Dartmouth College Library
Hanover, NH 03755, USA
Copyright: Trustees of Dartmouth College, 2002.
Hanover: Dartmouth College Library, 2002
All photographs courtesy of the Dartmouth College Library.
© The Trustees of Dartmouth College, 2002
|Chapter One: Origins, 1769–1819||1|
|Chapter Two: Rebuilding, 1819–1874||9|
|Chapter Three: Growth and Transition, 1874–1910||22|
|Chapter Four: From Wilson to Baker, 1910–1928||33|
|Chapter Five: Challenge and Change, 1929–1950||47|
|Chapter Six: The Morin and Lathem Years, 1950–1978||62|
|Chapter Seven: Into the Future, 1979–2002||77|
|The Woodward Succession||92|
|Library Locations, 2002||93|
|Sources and Suggestions for Further Reading||94|
|The Woodward Room in Baker Library||viii|
|Dartmouth Row in 1851||10|
|United Fraternity Room in Reed Hall||13|
|United Fraternity and Social Friends bookplates||20|
|The Library staff in 1883||25|
|Wilson Hall in 1885||27|
|Third–floor stacks in Wilson Hall, 1885||29|
|Baker Library under construction, 1927||37|
|Baker Library tower, 1927||39|
|The completed Baker Library||42|
|The Library staff in 1928||44|
|In the Treasure Room of Baker Library||46|
|In the stacks||57|
|Robert Frost talking with students in the Treasure Room||60|
|Vilhjalmur and Evelyn Stefansson||64|
|The Medical Library in Baker Library||67|
|The Dartmouth Medal||72|
|Mickey Mouse hands||76|
|The Suggestion Box||81|
|The entrance to the new Berry Library||84|
|The Library Staff in 2000||86, 87|
|Under the watchful eye of Daniel Webster||90|
If I properly thanked everyone who provided aid and comfort while I was working on the history, this acknowledgements ‘page’ would be longer than the book itself. Special thanks are due some special people:
Philip Cronenwett, Special Collections Librarian, and my sister Barbara Krieger, Archival Specialist, for advice, encouragement, and exceptional knowledge of College and Library history; everyone on the Rauner Special Collections staff, who chided me for the indecipherable handwriting on my call slips but nevertheless fetched, carried, photocopied, and stored voluminous amounts of books and archival material; Derika Avery, for cheerfully putting up with my erratic schedule, obtaining boxes of documents from Records Management, and finding a comfortable place for me to work with them; Virginia Close, Kenneth Cramer, and John Crane, for reading a really rough draft and providing invaluable comments and corrections; Patsy Carter, Virginia, Ken, and the other members of the old–timers' breakfast group, for sharing stories and reminiscences; and the staff of the Storage Library, for efficient service and patient tracking down of elusive references.
I also wish to thank Richard E. Lucier, 17th Librarian of the College, who initiated and funded the project, and his predecessors, Edward Connery Lathem and Margaret A. Otto, with whom I worked for more than thirty years. To the staff of the Dartmouth College Library, past, present, and future, this book is respectfully dedicated.
Dartmouth was the last of the nine colleges founded in colonial America before the Revolution. The early history of its Library is an integral part of the folklore of the College's origins. The growth and development of both College and Library paralleled in some ways those of the older institutions; in other ways, the College and its Library took quite different paths.
Eleazar Wheelock, the founder of Dartmouth College, had acquired a collection of books, primarily testaments, sermons, and religious tracts, for two schools he had founded in Connecticut before moving to New Hampshire. This collection is usually considered the nucleus of the College's Library, and its existence is the reason for the often–repeated statement that the Library predated the founding of the College.
Wheelock was born in 1711 [O.S.], the son of a farmer and church deacon in Connecticut. He was graduated from Yale in 1733, and in the following year became a minister in a parish in a section of Lebanon, Connecticut, called Lebanon Crank (now known as Columbia). Wheelock occasionally supplemented his income by tutoring boys at his Latin School to prepare them for college. Wheelock was also interested, as were many other eighteenth–century New England clergymen, in converting the Indians to Christianity. One of his students was Samson Occom, a member of the Mohegan tribe. Occom had heard of Wheelock and other preachers in the religious revival known as the Great Awakening and wished to study at the Latin School. He later became a preacher and missionary. Wheelock's success in preparing Occom for the ministry encouraged him to accept other Indian boys (and, later, girls) as students. In 1755 Colonel Joshua More (in later documents, spelled Moor) gave about two acres of land and
Between 1762 and 1763 Wheelock made several appeals for the support of his school to George Whitefield, a Great Awakening preacher who had been a strong influence on his ministry, and others in England and Scotland who supported the idea of Christianizing the native population. Records from 1764 onward note gifts from Rev. Dr. A. Gifford, of London, and the Society for the Diffusion of Christian Knowledge among the Poor. In 1765 Wheelock sent Occom and the Reverend Nathaniel Whitaker on a mission to Great Britain for the purpose of raising funds and collecting books for the school. In 1769, Wheelock obtained a charter from King George III, with the second Earl of Dartmouth as a Trustee, for a more ambitious version of the school, to be called Dartmouth College. He also obtained a grant of land in New Hampshire from the province's royal governor, John Wentworth. Wheelock considered many towns before deciding on Hanover as the location for the new school. In the fall of 1770, he moved his school, including the collection of books, to Hanover.
The story of the College's first years in the wilderness has often been told. In the first year, a somewhat primitive building sufficed for all of the institution's needs. At the first meeting of the Trustees, on October 22, 1770, Bezaleel Woodward, a graduate of Yale, was appointed a tutor of mathematics and natural philosophy, and in the following year the Trustees granted him “about an Acre” of land for a dwelling. In their meeting of 25 August 1773, the Trustees
Voted. That Bezaleel Woodward Esqr be, and hereby is appointed Librarian for this College.
Voted. That the Library be kept in the Southwest Chamber of Mr. Woodward's house till ordered otherwise.
Income from a bequest of £100 from Theodore Atkinson Sr. and the Reverend Diodate Johnson's bequest of £150 and his library were of great importance in the establishment of the collection. Dr. Jeremy Belknap, an early historian of New Hampshire, visited Hanover for Dartmouth's 1774 Commencement. In his diary, he noted
Among these “very good books” in the fledgling Library were many duplicate copies. The earliest known catalog is a four–page manuscript list dated January 1775. In the previous year, Woodward had begun recording Library transactions in a notebook that cannot now be found. Length of loan and the fee for borrowing varied with the size of the volume; it cost more (sixpence) to borrow a folio than a quarto (fourpence), but the borrower could keep it longer—four weeks instead of three. In his notebook, Woodward listed the members of the College, including students, in order of seniority, so apparently anyone in the College could withdraw books.
Wheelock, with careful management and continued assistance from supporters, had been able to keep the young institution open during the years of the American Revolution, even though John Wentworth, the colonial governor, had fled to Nova Scotia, causing some disruption in the flow of donations. Hanover's comparative isolation helped to minimize disruption of College activities. Woodward, in addition to his responsibilities as Tutor and Librarian, was also active in town affairs, and may also have needed the Library rooms in his house for family use. The records for the 20 May 1777 meeting of the Trustees note that the Library was to be moved “to such part of the College as the President shall judge proper,” and that the president, “with the advice of the Tutors,” was to appoint a Librarian. Wheelock may have overseen the Library himself, possibly with Woodward's assistance; but a new Librarian was not appointed right away. The Library was moved to a room on the second floor of Old College, the “principal College building . . . near the southeast corner of the Green.” On 30 August 1779, the Trustees voted to appoint John Smith the second Librarian. In the same year, Eleazar Wheelock died; his son John, having been named in Eleazar's will as his successor, became Dartmouth's second president.
Smith had been graduated from the College in the Class of 1773. He was a tutor in the College from 1774 to 1778 and professor of Latin, Greek, and Oriental languages from 1778 until his death in 1809. He was also a minister of the College Church and kept a bookstore in Hanover. His tenure as Librarian is one of Dartmouth's longest,
At this time the College Library remained small. Soon after the end of the Revolution, students were beginning to collect libraries of their own. In the older colleges, literary and debating societies had been founded in the years leading up to the Revolution, as undergraduate life reflected the public's interest in the great issues capturing the attention of the society at large. At Dartmouth, the first literary and debating society was founded in 1783, the year that the Treaty of Paris, ending the War for Independence, was signed. Called the Society of Social Friends and known familiarly as the “Socials,” it began to acquire a library. In 1786, some members left the Socials to form a rival group, the United Fraternity, known as the “Fraters,” that also built up a library. The two societies maintained a strong rivalry for many years, most importantly in literary debates and in “exhibitions"—the dramatic oratory displayed at specific times during the College year, especially at Commencement. The societies treasured their libraries both for leisure reading and as sources for preparing the debates and exhibitions. The libraries were supported by taxes levied on their members and by donations of books by the graduating class. The seniors in each society competed to contribute the best books as fiercely as they vied in Commencement oratory.
That the society libraries played an important part in the students' lives is evident; what is less clear is whether they, or the College Library, had much to do with the students' classroom work. According to a standard history of the College, there is no mention of the early curriculum until 1796, when it included “learned languages,” mathematics, English and Latin composition, and “the elements of natural and physical law.” All students followed the same prescribed course of study. Classrooms were called “recitation” rooms; students replied orally to the tutors' questions to show that they had mastered the subject matter. From the vantage point of the twenty–first century, it is perhaps too easy to make light of the inadequacies of the colonial colleges' library holdings. Yes, they were small, and were strong in theology and classics and little else; but the colleges were in most cases founded primarily to produce ministers, and the collections reflected the requirements of the curriculum. Books were valued and often not easy to acquire, so it should not be surprising that there were severe restrictions on access and withdrawal. However, it should also not be surprising that the students wanted to acquire libraries of their own; and often, the rules for use were very much the same as those for the institutions' libraries. In 1796 the Trustees issued the first set of rules for the College. It covered admission, curriculum, student behavior,
In 1783 the College Library was moved to President John Wheelock's house, pending construction of Dartmouth Hall, intended to replace Old College, which was in a poor state of repair. Construction was begun in 1790 but not completed until 1791, at which time the books were returned from Wheelock's house and installed on the second floor of the new building. A fire in Dartmouth Hall in 1798 necessitated the removal the books once again to the President's house, but they were returned quickly and later moved to a larger room when the building was remodeled between 1828 and 1829. The societies' libraries were usually kept together from about 1790 until 1799, when the rivalry and dissension between the two led to the breakup of what had been referred to as the ‘federated' library. The books were kept for a number of years in members' rooms, but the separation had renewed the rivalry concerning the building up of the collections, and very soon each society had built a collection equal in size to that of their combined libraries. As the collections had clearly outgrown students' study rooms, the College in 1805 provided a room for each society's library in Dartmouth Hall.
Hours of opening for the College Library gradually increased. By this time, the Librarian was beginning to consider his duties “arduous"—the collection had reached about 3000 by 1799—and in 1808 the Trustees tried to make his life easier by requiring students to “receive and return books at the library as nearly in alphabetical order as will be convenient for the librarian.” Since we do not have circulation records for that period, we cannot tell whether it was the students or the books that were supposed to show up at the Library in such order.
The years 1809 and 1810 saw two turning points in the Library's early history. In 1809 the Trustees authorized the publication of a catalog of the Library's holdings, which was issued sometime between 1809 and 1810. This first printed catalog brought up to date Woodward's 1775 manuscript. Professor Smith died in the spring of 1809;
Both Smith and Shurtleff were clergymen. Shurtleff, Class of 1799, was the Professor of Theology, and in 1804 a majority of members of the College church had preferred him as pastor to Professor Smith, who was supported by President John Wheelock. The issue was partly one of religious doctrine, but Wheelock's domineering stance with the Trustees foreshadowed the larger conflict to come.
The 1769 charter that established Dartmouth College named Eleazar Wheelock President and stipulated that he could choose his successor, but added that the Board of Trustees (limited to twelve members by the charter) could discharge the appointee. From around 1811 and several years thereafter, John Wheelock's quarrels with the College Trustees, beginning with the church controversy and continuing with other issues of College governance, became more numerous and bitter. Several members of the board died, and the Trustees elected replacements opposed to Wheelock, who was, by most accounts, “imperious and demanding." Wheelock published an attack on the Trustees and also addressed a pamphlet to the General Court, New Hampshire's legislature, stating that the Trustees had violated the charter by various offenses. The legislature, in turn, passed a bill calling for a committee to “investigate . . . the acts and proceedings of the Trustees.” The Trustees, in their meeting of August 1815, by a vote of 8 to 2 removed Wheelock from the presidency, appointed the Reverend Francis Brown in his place, and issued a refutation of the charges in Wheelock's tract. College, town, and the entire state took sides, making their arguments in local newspapers; party politics played a role. In June 1816, the state legislature passed “An act to amend, enlarge and improve the corporation of Dartmouth College.” The law changed the name of the institution to Dartmouth University and added nine trustees to the board, making a total of twenty–one; John Wheelock was the University president. The College Trustees refused to comply with the law, and the battle was joined.
For several years, the two separate institutions existed on Hanover Plain, in a strange mixture of amiability and conflict. The University had a separate, very small, faculty and its own president, William Allen, who had succeeded his father–in–law, John Wheelock, upon Wheelock's death in 1817. Both College and University held classes in adjacent or possibly even in the same buildings. A committee of three of Hanover's leading citizens were appointed by the University trustees to take possession of the College's Chapel and Library. College President Brown at first refused to
In February 1817 the College Trustees initiated a lawsuit, referred to the Superior Court of the State of New Hampshire, against William Woodward, with the object of recovering the Trustees' minutes, the College charter and seal, and other items. Woodward had been in possession of these documents when he was Treasurer and Secretary of the College, and kept them when, as a supporter of Wheelock, he became a trustee and treasurer of the University. On 6 November 1817, the court decided in favor of the University.
Anticipating the decision and believing their libraries in jeopardy under University control, Society members had begun packing books and moving them to student rooms for safekeeping. Rufus Choate, Class of 1819, later a distinguished jurist, was librarian of the Social Friends, and had rented a separate room in the house where he was boarding to keep the Socials' books. On 11 November 1817, Professors James Dean and Nathaniel Carter, of the University, rounded up a “crowd of village roughs" and attempted to take possession of the Society library rooms; while the books may have been private property, the rooms were deemed the property of the University and thus subject to seizure. The Social Friends' library door was demolished—according to one newspaper report, by an ax. The United Fraternity, meeting in a nearby room, overheard the ruckus and came to the Socials' defense. The assembled students greatly outnumbered the professors and detained them in the rooms until the remaining books could be taken away to safety. Then the invaders, except for the professors, were marched out of the building through a gauntlet of menacing defenders, armed with “sticks of cord–wood.” The professors, each accompanied by four students, were escorted home, apparently with some degree of civility; the students were determined not to “be charged with insult or discourtesy.” At least one of the professors was grateful enough for the safe passage to tip his hat and thank his escort. Nine students were arrested “for trespass and false imprisonment” and brought before a Justice of the Peace; one of the nine brought a countercharge of riot against Dean and Carter. Both groups appeared before a grand jury, which declined to issue any indictments, deciding that in comparison with the greater issues facing the institution, the library incident was “considered of little consequence.” The “riot” or “fracas” was nonetheless featured in many local newspaper accounts, and doubtless was viewed by the townspeople
The College Trustees appealed the New Hampshire court's decision to the United States Supreme Court, with a result firmly implanted in the minds of every incoming Dartmouth first–year student. Uncounted books and articles dealing with the constitutional, educational, and business implications of the case have been written; it would be foolhardy here to give more than a brief summary. The College was represented by extremely able counsel, including Daniel Webster, Class of 1801, whose argument before Chief Justice John Marshall is a fundamental part of Dartmouth lore. Verbatim texts of arguments before the Supreme Court were not at that time published; the account of Webster's speech comes from the correspondence, many years later, between Chauncey A. Goodrich and Rufus Choate. As Goodrich recalled, Webster asserted that the state legislature had taken “that which is not their own” and subverted the intent of the donors. Webster implored the court not “to destroy this little institution,” with the famous peroration, “It is, sir, as I have said, a small college, and yet there are those who love it.” It is not difficult to see in this statement an unconscious echo of Dr. Belknap's small library, with the very good books.
On 2 February 1819, Chief Justice Marshall read the Supreme Court's opinion overturning the state court's decision, declaring that the College charter was a contract under the protection of the United States Constitution and that the legislature's actions were “repugnant” to that constitution. The University administration gave in a bit grudgingly, but eventually William Allen returned to President Brown the keys to the College buildings, and Dartmouth University ceased to exist.
In naming the rival institution “Dartmouth University,” the New Hampshire legislature may have intended nothing more than to give a grandiose name to their creation, although some legislators were thinking of a school of law to add to the already–existing medical school. Yet once the case was decided, the very word “university” took on something of a sinister meaning. For many years to come, the memory of the Dartmouth College Case fixed in the minds of presidents, students, and alumni that Dartmouth should remain a college, not a university, an idea that greatly affected the development not only of Dartmouth College as an educational institution, but also of its Library.
After so many years of chaos, the College Library, no different from the College as a whole, was in need of serious attention. That portion of student fees meant for the Library had had to be used for more pressing needs, and many volumes had been lost or defaced. During the precarious years of the College/University conflict, the Trustees had briefly considered selling part of the Library collection for around $2100, to raise money to defray some of the cost of the legal proceedings, but there were no takers. Following the Supreme Court's decision, the publisher Isaiah Thomas, of Worcester, Massachusetts, made a substantial donation of 470 volumes. Thomas had connections with the College through the American Antiquarian Society, of which he was the founder. Samuel M. Burnside, Class of 1805, was the Society's recording secretary, and former President John Wheelock had been a member. Dartmouth had awarded Thomas an honorary AM degree in 1814. In a letter to Ebenezer Adams (Class of 1791 and later a professor), Thomas wrote of his “sentiment of high esteem and respect for the Rev. President, and other officers of this Institution.”  Thomas was well known and respected, and his donation was a sign of Dartmouth's renewed vigor and reputation.
John Aiken, a tutor in the College who later became a lawyer and manufacturer, was named Librarian in 1820. The Trustees also appropriated $400 for the Library. Aiken served only two years. Charles Bricket Haddock, of the Class of 1816, who had become Dartmouth's first Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory in 1819, was asked by the Trustees to examine, with the President, the condition of the Library, possibly to
In 1822, the Trustees voted that whoever was appointed Treasurer of the College was also to act as Secretary, Librarian, and Inspector of Buildings and Inspector of the Museum. This appears to be an unusually heavy load, even in an era when life was simpler and bureaucratic responsibilities were lighter. The new Treasurer, Timothy Farrar, Class of 1807, must have felt that rather too much was being asked of him. He had recently published a detailed study of the issues in the Dartmouth College Case, which had taken up a considerable amount of his time. At the same session, the Trustees appointed Oramel S. Hinckley as librarian pro tem. Hinckley's name never appeared in the lists of College officers for the approximately year and a half that he served; he is mentioned once more in the Trustees' records, requesting labels for books in the Library. Later in 1823, Farrar felt able to take up his duties as Librarian, and served until 1826.
The Trustees issued an updated set of laws for the College in 1822 and 1828, setting a quarterly fee of $2 from the students for the Library. They also authorized publication of another catalog, but it was not completed until 1825.
The literary societies, in existence since the late eighteenth century, were chartered in 1826 and 1827. Many such societies on other campuses were similarly incorporating, primarily for the protection of their libraries, which were “too valuable to be left to the care of voluntary associations without legal rights or responsibilities.” The charters gave the societies the “right to hold property and transact business.” The libraries of both the Social Friends and United Fraternity continued to grow, and hours of opening were increased. There were still limits on the number of books that could be drawn: Seniors were allowed four books at a time, juniors three, and freshmen and sophomores two. The Social Friends set aside a separate collection of books on classical studies in the “Philological Room." Students gathered in this room for study; a later College Librarian, Marvin Bisbee, considered this study an independent example, or forerunner, of departmental library collections and the seminar method later developed in Germany and, in America, by Johns Hopkins. By 1824,
In 1826, Professor Haddock was appointed Librarian, at a salary of $50 a year. He was a nephew of Daniel Webster and a member of the class of 1816; he received a degree from Andover Theological Seminary and was ordained a Congregational minister before returning to Dartmouth. An effective and popular speaker and writer, he was an impressive figure on campus, handsome and dignified, bearing more than a passing resemblance to his uncle. More than was customary at the time, he was involved in undergraduate life, particularly in the literary societies. Although he did not desire a career in public life, he was actively interested in the issues of the day, particularly public education. He was a member of the state legislature from 1845 to 1848 and was New Hampshire's first Commissioner of Common Schools, advocating public high schools and better training and pay for teachers.
Haddock, like his predecessors, also held a teaching post at the College. It is difficult to discern what importance these early Librarians attached to their Library responsibilities. Haddock was the first to leave behind, in published articles, lecture notes, and letters, some indication of his thoughts on books and reading. He was, of course, a firm believer in the worth of the ancient classics and the Bible, but he also acknowledged the value of contrary opinions. In the notes for one of his popular lectures, “The Way to Read a Book,” he was aware of the problem of choosing a worthy book to read, even in a simpler time when choices were fewer:
It is much like choosing a wife; Adam had no difficulty at all in that; but his posterity sometimes finds it hard to fix upon one as best among so many that are good—
A book is not necessarily good because it is old, or bad because it is new; Shakespeare was “new” in the sixteenth century. He felt that “a single reading is seldom sufficient . . . a cursory reading is like the accidental meeting of a stranger.” A more thorough reading makes the author a lifelong companion, and cultivates a taste for the best in literature.
As in other eras, some students' love of literature and appreciation of books contrasted with other students' careless treatment. In part, the latter view was an expression of the students' dissatisfaction with the College Library, especially compared with the society collections. According to one source, the Trustees' decision to move the College Library from the second to the first floor of Dartmouth Hall was at least in
The college library was very small, and had been so collected that it contained few books that either the instructors or the students wished to read. The chief dependence of the latter for reading was upon the society libraries, in which they took so much pride, and to the increase of which they contributed with so great liberality in proportion to their means.
By the late 1830s, enrollment had increased considerably, and appeals were made to alumni and others for funds to erect a new building. A legacy from a Trustee, William Reed, provided the means for new construction. Reed Hall was completed in time—just—for the 1840 Commencement. The entire second floor was given to the College and society libraries; the Trustees must have regained confidence in students' restraint concerning tossing books from an upper floor. In 1841, Professor William Cogswell, of the Class of 1811, formed the Northern Academy of Sciences, using
Various sources note that the move was hasty. Repercussions from that haste may have been the underlying cause of a dispute that erupted between 1840 and 1842 over management of the Library. Although Roswell Shurtleff had not held the position of Librarian since 1820, he still retained an interest in its condition. As a faculty member, he asked the Trustees, at their meeting of January 1840, to appoint a committee to look into the Library situation. At the August 1840 meeting, Shurtleff and Trustees Samuel Fletcher, Class of 1810, and Zedekiah Barstow were requested to carry out the investigation. The text of their report has not survived, but Haddock's refutation of the charges gives ample evidence of the main points of contention: a dirty Library room and lost books. In two letters to Trustee Charles Marsh, dated August 1842, Haddock noted the haste with which the books were moved from Dartmouth Hall to Reed; some sweeping of the floor was done before paint in the room had hardened, so dirt had stuck to surfaces. Haddock wrote that the room had not looked clean since it opened. In the matter of losses, Haddock contested Shurtleff's method of counting books and produced his own tally, showing very little loss, with a volume or two showing up in a professor's room. Shurtleff had also complained that Haddock allowed students into the Library unaccompanied by the Librarian or any other faculty member. Here Haddock's defense begins to sound a bit petulant, but it illustrates a dilemma that surely had been shared by previous incumbents. The Library was but one of Haddock's many responsibilities; if he could not at a given time leave his other duties, he preferred to permit such unsupervised use rather than deny access completely. The conflict between his view of the lesser importance of his Library position and of the value of Library access, however limited, is clear:
It is an evil to allow anybody access to the Library without the Librarian, but it seems to be an evil incident to the system, that provides only for an occasional opening of the Library, by a person whose principal duty is elsewhere.
Haddock also noted that there had been no previous complaints about the Library, and that as a faculty member he valued his association with the College; he had “no interests to serve, in the destruction of its property.” Although the resolution of the conflict
The collection was considerably enhanced in 1852 by two substantial donations. Dr. George C. Shattuck gave $2000 for book purchases (in addition to the $7000 he donated for the construction of an observatory), and Professor Shurtleff added $1000, also for book purchases. Both donors stipulated that these books were to be used by the faculty only. The records are unclear concerning the donors' motivation—were they hoping to purchase books of advanced scholarship that would be of little use for students, or were they merely afraid that student use would result in loss or mutilation? Whatever the reasoning behind the limitations, the gifts, along with income from numerous contributions from the Parker family, did much to improve the quality of the collection.
In 1828, the Trustees had requested—apparently not demanded—that the Librarian submit an annual report, primarily concerning finances. If any were written before 1858, they have unfortunately been lost. After 1858, annual reports appear, with only a few gaps, through the early twentieth century. These reports are short, usually only a few pages in length, and consist mostly of lists of books added to the collection by purchase or gift. However, there is often enough commentary to give one an idea of the incumbents' views on the place of the Library in the College.
Hubbard had definite ideas about who should and should not be permitted to use the Library. He corresponded with colleagues at Harvard and Yale, and mentioned in his 1857–1858 report that a Harvard professor “informed me to day that students are not admitted to the alcoves.” This and other reports cite the need for a catalog and better security; if anyone wanting a book could determine from a catalog that the
Hubbard took a dim view of students' ability to use the Library intelligently or responsibly. He frequently reiterated the need for security, as “preservation from actual robbery.” One student, during a vacation, had abandoned a trunk somewhere in settlement of a debt; the trunk's contents included some Library books. Other books had had their labels removed. His indignation of such cavalier treatment is often juxtaposed with his realization that “the real wants of every person should be met as far as possible.” Free access to the shelves would be of benefit to those of “cultivated minds,” from which company he clearly excluded students, at least those in the first two classes, whom he pictured as wandering aimlessly through the room, wondering, “Which book shall I take?" Even for the two upper classes, he recommended that the students take books “on permission of the instructors.” President Nathan Lord, in his annual report for 1858–1859, observed that for one term the Library had been closed to all students, which did not seem to inconvenience them in any way:
The Library has been closed to students all the spring term. . . . From any thing that now appears, the Library might remain closed, with equal advantage, a much longer period.
As usual, the students took refuge in the society libraries. In several letters to his father, Edward Tuck, Class of 1862, wrote of the College Library that “the College faculty have not yet seen fit to open it. . . . Our class is now purchasing donations for the [Society] Libraries.”
Hubbard was, however, aware of the importance of the society libraries, but again with some ambivalence. He was annoyed that when some society members had not paid their taxes and were therefore kept from using the societies' books, there was “unusual pressure” on the College Library. But in a bit of an unconscious glimpse of the future, he said of the society libraries that “their best use is based upon the idea, that they are but parts of one system.”  Not all the students respected even the society libraries; even they had to resort to screens and locks to block direct access to the books.
In 1859, Dr. Henry Bond made a large donation of books including “English classics, "works on theology and American history, and a set of British parliamentary reports, with indexes. For some reason, not noted in Hubbard's reports, these volumes were not made available for many years thereafter. At a time when the most significant additions to the collection were gifts, Hubbard gave priority to caring for these items, realizing that donors frequently appeared at the Library asking to see their books, so they needed to be properly handled. He also mentioned one donor who wanted his books back—no reason supplied—and got them. Hubbard realized the importance of alumni as donors, stating that the Harvard librarian receives “books . . . from one in every 15, of the living graduates.” Dartmouth's first alumni association had been formed in 1854, but a specific effort to acquire works published by alumni was not begun until 1872.
In having to set priorities in caring for the collection, Hubbard noted on several occasions that not only could he not do everything at once, there was a “growing disproportion of pay & labor,” the Librarians' salary having been set in earlier times when there were far fewer books to deal with, and when there was less correspondence and
In several reports Hubbard mentions a collection of Congressional and other United States government publications. The federal depository program was still many years in the future, but the College was making a concerted effort to acquire these valuable primary sources, which apparently were distributed by the New Hampshire State Library. At one point these government works were not received as expected, and Hubbard felt it necessary to obtain “permission of proper authority” to go personally to the New Hampshire State House in Concord to retrieve them from the attic, where they had been left and forgotten. Hubbard acknowledged the good offices of an alumnus, Charles Reid, Class of 1835, who had become Librarian of the State of Vermont, in obtaining documents from that state—and regretted that the Library did not have a good similar collection of New Hampshire publications.
Hubbard was a professor of chemistry, and before his appointment as Librarian, he had noted the deficiencies of the College's facilities in science. In 1851 the Chandler School of Science and the Arts had been founded by the will of businessman Abiel Chandler. The complex relationship of the Chandler School to the College is beyond the scope of this essay, but as a scientist Hubbard took an interest in it and spent some time in its library. In the early 1860s the collection of scientific and technical material was greatly improved by a major donation from Colonel Sylvanus Thayer, Class of 1807, of books, maps, and related materials in engineering. Believing that the contents were beyond the understanding of the undergraduates, Thayer stipulated that the books and other material were to be used by graduates and faculty only. The collection provided valuable support for the School of Civil Engineering at Dartmouth that Thayer endowed several years later.
Hubbard resigned his Library position in 1865 and was succeeded by Charles Augustus Aiken, an alumnus of the Class of 1846 and the son of John Aiken, who had been Librarian from 1820 to 1822. His tenure was brief; he soon left to take teaching positions at other institutions, most notably the Princeton Theological Seminary, and he left no report of his activities. He was succeeded by Professor Edwin David Sanborn.
Sanborn, Class of 1832, had a long and distinguished career at the College, spanning the administrations of three of its presidents. He held many other positions, formal and informal, besides that of Librarian, and also served in the state legislature. With his “forceful nature” he was well known and respected both on and off campus, “probably the most outstanding member of the faculty” at the time. At this time the College found itself on a firm footing after the hard times of the previous half–century. There was extensive growth both in enrollment and physical plant.
Not all of Sanborn's annual reports survive, but those that do show a change in attitude from that of his predecessors regarding the content and care of the collection. His report for 1869–1870 has been frequently quoted; it begins, “the Librarian of the college, this year, submits a report in which there is nothing to be reported.” Four pages of “nothing” follow. “Nothing,” to Sanborn, was a result of very few books' having been purchased in the past year, and an indictment of the preponderance of outdated books on the shelves. As a professor of Latin, he certainly didn't believe that a book was outdated just because it was old, but he was distressed that the Library held no “Irving, Cooper, Hawthorne, Emerson, Lowell,” or other contemporary authors. American literature was coming into its own as the country matured; Sanborn wrote that “If students are limited to the books we possess, they cannot become acquainted with authors, whose names are as familiar to the reading public as household terms.” He also firmly believed that the College Library should supply archival material about the institution's history; there was “literally nothing illustrative of its own history, but the ‘Dartmouth Case' and a few pamphlets, written by Eleazar Wheelock, regarding Moor's school.” Hubbard had previously noted that there were boxes of papers on the Supreme Court case, lying around on the Library floor, virtually unusable, like the newspapers “lying, in wild confusion,” in the Northern Academy room. The secretary of the Alumni Association had had difficulty in obtaining information on College history to use in the recent centennial celebration; Sanborn noted that “of the early professors, almost no memorial is left, but their epitaphs; and their tombstones are crumbling to decay.” He hoped that the Trustees would authorize funds for the publication of a College history, although he conceded that the sale of the books probably would not recoup the costs. His wishes were at least partially fulfilled when in 1872 Judge Nathan Crosby, Class of 1820, proposed to the Trustees that an alcove of publications written by Dartmouth alumni be established in the Library and supported it with a donation of $100.
The most significant development during Sanborn's eight years as Librarian was the gradual merging of the society libraries with the College Library. For many years, the societies' importance in undergraduate life had been shrinking, as other activities, from athletics to musical groups, provided the students with a greater variety of extracurricular experiences. At the same time, there was a greater awareness on the part of students, society members or not, of the importance of libraries in general and the shortcomings of the College Library in particular. An article in the September 1872 issue of The Dartmouth, the student newspaper, expresses some of the opinion current at the time:
. . . the two most effective means of culture [are] books and instructors . . . why are we debarred from the enjoyment of . . . the free use of books? . . . the books are so much of the time inaccessible to the students; . . . books of reference are, practically, all the time inaccessible; and . . . there are in our libraries no conveniences for writing. The College Library is open not more than one hour a day through the year, this hour being the one when the students are, or ought to be, at play on the Common.
The arrangement of the books was confusing, and existing lists or catalogs didn't help much; the student who was “fearful of exhausting the patience of the librarian, goes away empty–handed.” Books in all of the libraries had for many years been kept locked behind “expensive wire doors” that provided a “tantalizing view of the books.”
The society libraries were still well maintained and expanded; eventually they became the only real reason for the societies' existence. Accordingly, in July 1874 the Social Friends and the United Fraternity voted “to place their respective libraries under the care of the [faculty].” The most important parts of the plan for unification included the appointment of a librarian, with his salary set by the Trustees, and three assistants; a periodicals reading room, with hours of opening to be decided by the Academical (Dartmouth) and Chandler departments; and access to the combined libraries for all students. Sanborn worked with the societies' librarians, notably Clarence Watkins Scott of the class of 1874, to effect the transfer of control (but not yet ownership) of the society libraries to the faculty. The records are unclear about why Sanborn felt he should relinquish control, but when the Trustees approved the merger, Social Friends librarian Scott effectively became the Librarian of the combined collections. The merger was expected to reduce “the waste of their earlier management” and to “provide for the prosperity of the library without materially drawing upon the funds of the college.” Scott has been called the College's first full–time Librarian; he did not assume other responsibilities for several years. But he was assuredly the first Librarian to take office so soon after his own commencement. He later taught in several departments of the College, including English, political economy, and history. He has left us a brief history of the Library that stops with the 1874 merger; it may have been written shortly thereafter. One hopes that Scott acquired better research techniques in his later years as a historian—he listed John Smith as Dartmouth's first Librarian, consigning poor Mr. Woodward to oblivion.
For the next two years, Scott devoted his time to the details of integrating the separate libraries. He had been listed as “Librarian” beginning with the 1874–1875 Catalogue of the College, and the Trustees formally reaffirmed his appointment in 1876. In that year, Scott also assumed teaching duties in the New Hampshire College of Agriculture and Mechanical Arts, which had been established in Hanover in the 1860s. Scott's final report as Librarian, for the year 1877–1878, is indicative of the success of the new system; the Library was open thirty–three hours a week, and the expenses incurred were the same as “previous to the present arrangement.” At the time of the merger, the Social Friends' library held approximately 9520 volumes, and the Fraters' about 9200. A smaller collection of about 1200 from the Philotechnic Society, which had been chartered by Chandler School students, was also included in the merger. The total Library collection, including the College Library, amounted to about 54,600 volumes.
In 1878 Scott was succeeded by Louis Pollens, a native of Switzerland and graduate of the University of Vermont, who had been appointed an instructor in French in 1877. At the time of his being voted Librarian, he was also appointed Professor of French and German. From this time on, issues that had been raised from time to time by earlier Librarians become more persistent and pressing. As the Library grew larger in size, space became inadequate, and as the hours increased, it became harder to manage as a part–time occupation. The merger agreement had stipulated assigning three students to act as assistants to the Librarian. The assistants would be paid a total of $100, part of which would be the amount of his room rent. Scott's final annual report had listed a total of $1500 for salaries; Pollens's salary alone was to be $1500, but that amount included compensation for his teaching responsibilities.
The need for larger—and especially fireproof—accommodations became ever more obvious. Fire had always been a risk; in 1822 the Trustees had requested ladders for escape from Library rooms. In the early days the Library rooms were not heated, but Reed Hall was also a student residence, and even the staunchest advocate of New England hardiness would not have denied students heat in their lodging. Even after the installation of steam heat and gas lighting, students used oil lamps in their rooms, contrary to College rules. Pollens encouraged stricter enforcement of the ban, and in 1881 a Trustees' committee on the Library recommended that no students be allowed to room in Reed Hall. Pollens made reference to a disastrous fire at Amherst and feared that Dartmouth's library could similarly be “swept out of existence.”
Pollens's reports show that the merging of the separate libraries did not always go smoothly. A major rearrangement was necessary so that books on any particular subject from the individual collections could be brought together in a single location. He worked on preparing a catalog but thought printing it would be a waste while books were constantly being shifted from one place to another because of space problems; he could not designate a permanent shelf location for any particular book. He made mention of the alumni collection by name, referring to it as the Alumni Alcove, a designation that survived for many years. With greater circulation—averaging about sixty per day in 1878–1879— there was need for a better system to track and recall books out on loan. He asked for a fourth assistant, preferably from the junior class, so that the student would have two years to become familiar with Library operation. He proposed what might today be called a reserve system, whereby books required for courses could be kept in a single room and not circulated. It would be nice to say that a Dartmouth Librarian invented the reserve system, but Pollens indicated that he had seen such a system in operation at Harvard.
In 1879 the Faculty turned over control of the society libraries to the Trustees. The Faculty Committee on the Union issued a formal statement approving this transition and expressed the hope that the increased efficiency of a unified collection would make it possible to heat Reed Hall “without drawing upon the College Treasury.” When opening hours were increased, apparently even the stoic librarians realized that some heat was needed, fire risk notwithstanding; and if students were no longer rooming in Reed, there would have been no other heat in the building.
The 1870s were a period of transition in both higher education and the emerging field of librarianship. Many of the colonial colleges, as well as more recently–
Thirty thousand books well classified, thoroughly catalogued, easily accessible to the student, are of much more value than a hundred thousand, disorderly piled up in hidden and inaccessible corners.
An admirable sentiment—and one that says much about the condition of the Library at the time. In addition to the rearrangement and cataloging of the books, he hoped to make both Dartmouth students and faculty aware of the collections:
It would be very helpful to all interested in the Library—and who is not?—to print annually or semiannually a list of new books with notes and such other matter as might fitly be added.
He also hoped to make Dartmouth's Library more widely known in the academic community by exchanging such publication lists “among the larger and more progressive institutions in the country.” Progress was hindered by lack of space and by Pollens's other responsibilities. He cites the “chaos” of the Library's “Working Room” and the “lamentable death” of a professor of Greek, which “threw the burden of instruction in Grammar upon the Librarian.”
For some time the Trustees had been considering a plan to convert the gymnasium into a space for the Library. The gymnasium's donor, George H. Bissell 1845, was not opposed to the plan, as long as the gym could be given new accommodations. However, this plan was never carried out. The College was also in need of a new chapel, and in 1883 Edward A. Rollins, of the Class of 1851, offered $30,000 for a chapel, if the College could also raise $60,000 for a library. This was a large amount to raise, and despite appeals to alumni, the College had not raised the required amount
The library building, to be called Wilson Hall, was designed by Samuel J. F. Thayer of Boston, and constructed of red brick, with sandstone trimmings. There were to be four levels of book stacks, two reading rooms, a reference room, and a picture gallery; the building was fireproof, and fitted with steam heat and electric lighting. In June of 1884 the cornerstones of both Wilson and Rollins Chapel were laid, with great ceremony. President Bartlett and the Reverend Henry Fairbanks, secretary of the Building Committee, made speeches. At the site of the future Wilson Hall, Trustee (and later President) William Jewett Tucker, Class of 1861, was proud that Dartmouth was keeping pace with several of the other colonial colleges, located in more populous areas and growing into true universities:
The Library of Dartmouth College has always held an honorable place among the general libraries of the country, and among college libraries it has kept the fourth place.
From an accumulation of books it has become an organism . . . The College Library is not a repository, but a workshop. . . . The average student is gradually learning the use of books.
Professor Sanborn, retired since 1882 and quite ill, was in attendance. He said that Wilson's gift had given Dartmouth “new courage to labor for the progress of sound learning in our land.”
Wilson Hall was ready for use just barely before the dedication ceremony, set for June 14, 1885, during Commencement Week. The shelves had not been finished until a week before the scheduled opening. Moving the books from Reed to Wilson was reminiscent of the hasty move from Dartmouth Hall to Reed back in 1840. President Bartlett called for volunteers, and a kind of book brigade was set up. Students working in pairs carried trays of books to the new Library—after dusting them—and arranged them on the shelves; the move took four days.
The dedication ceremony took place as scheduled, with prayers, music, and speeches. It is worth quoting at some length from the speech by Mellen Chamberlain, Class of 1844, for many years a supporter of the Library with donations of both books and money. Chamberlain's remarks made note of the transformation of the Library from one that had been “ample for our purposes . . . but I fancy the accomplished librarian found his duties neither arduous nor largely remunerative.” A college library “has purposes of its own apart from those entertained by the institution with which it is connected. It is an education institution; it is a university in itself.” He had perhaps ambivalent views; the library should have a collection beyond course needs, but “discipline, rather than promiscuous reading, is the chief purpose of college life.” The College Library should be a repository for the history of the institution; Daniel Webster had made use of documents in the Library's possession in preparation for his argument before the Supreme Court. A copy of Webster's “small college” speech was in the cornerstone. Just before the benediction, President Bartlett spoke in response to Chamberlain's speech. Dartmouth now had a new Library, “sooner than we expected and better than we dreamed.”
Pollens resigned in 1886 to concentrate on teaching. His final report as Librarian covers the period of the move to Wilson. Circulation increased following the move. Pollens was apparently surprised by this, possibly because of continuing difficulty in access to the books. Rules for access were continually in flux at this time; students could not go directly to the stacks in the building but had to request books at the desk.
The new Librarian was Marvin Davis Bisbee, Dartmouth Class of 1871 and a graduate of the Chicago Theological Seminary. He had been provisionally appointed late in 1886; the Trustees formally voted on the appointment in January 1887. Although he was not a library–school graduate, it is probably fair to say that he was Dartmouth's first professional Librarian. He had some pastoral and teaching responsibilities, but of necessity he had to devote most of his working life to the Library. He instituted changes representative of modern principles of library management that
But first he had to bring some order out of the chaos resulting from the move from Reed to Wilson, which according to his first annual report was much worse than the conditions following the move in 1840. There was “considerable confusion, arising from the interregnum in the office of librarian, and the great disorder occasioned by the removal from Reed Hall"; pamphlets and newspapers were in “disordered heaps.” Pollens had spent considerable time and effort in trying to create a catalog, but Bisbee dismissed it as almost worthless; there was “not a card in the drawers fit for use.”
For the next ten years at least, several themes recur frequently in Bisbee's reports. A major issue was student conduct in the Library. Perhaps he hoped that a new building would inspire improved behavior, as had happened with the new chapel, but he was to be disappointed. His first report noted that “some necessary bracing up in the matter of discipline was not popular at the time of course.” Some books had been stolen, and others defaced with “obscene drawings.” In subsequent years there was “considerable thieving and lawlessness.”  These remarks seem at variance with reminiscences of Bisbee, which certainly do not paint him as the curmudgeon he appears to be in some of his reports. He was known to have helped students who might have had to leave College to find ways to earn enough money to stay, and others came to “feel that they were a part of his family.”  He was sometimes referred to as “Pa” Bisbee. In other years, he was quite pleased with the “quiet and pleasant” atmosphere, and when hours in the Reference and Reading Rooms were increased, the students' “conduct has been unexceptional," and there was “little disorder,” despite the lack of an attendant in the Reference Room.
Indeed, Bisbee's relations with students, particularly freshmen, show that Dartmouth may have been a bit ahead of the times in recognizing that as libraries were becoming larger and more complex, students needed more help than simple printed catalogs to find what they needed. Bisbee occasionally met informally with freshmen, asking them what they were currently reading, and offered a bibliography course, for freshmen and some juniors, and individual, private instruction. A description of his junior elective course in bibliography might give pause to reference librarians accustomed to presenting just one hour–long instruction session to a class. Bisbee's course “was conducted on the plan of securing the largest amount of actual handling of books.”
Each student prepared a list of books on his topic. The following weeks required that the students become familiar with important reviews, magazines, and publications of the Smithsonian and state historical societies; they then studied “the early universities, the early printers of Venice, Paris, Holland, and Germany, great critics, and special collections. . . . Indirectly, the instructor, by means of lectures, illustrated as far as possible, covered the field of the general subject, the evolution of books.” In both his published writings and annual reports, he recognized that “modern methods of instruction” were requiring more extensive use of books besides assigned texts, stating—probably over–optimistically—that “The day of the single text–book is over.”  He cites President Eliot of Harvard on the library as “the very core of the university considered as a place of instruction.”  Bisbee later became an advocate of open stacks.
In the later nineteenth century, along with adopting the seminar system of teaching for graduate or small undergraduate elective courses, many academic libraries saw parts of their collections withdrawn to be placed at the disposal of the various teaching departments. The faculty of the department controlled access to the books. Bisbee made a case for locating these “departmental” libraries in the central Library. He was not opposed to having the books relevant for a particular course kept together and separate from the main collection; he just thought such a subcollection would be more useful to the students if it were located adjacent to the reference and reading rooms. Eventually the departmental libraries, although located outside Wilson, were brought into “closer relations with the central library,” although exactly how this was accomplished is not stated. Echoing Pollens many years before, Bisbee cited the Social Friends' classical collection as an early example of the departmental library, considerably predating Harvard's.
Improving the catalog was another of Bisbee's priorities, and another proof that he was bringing the best of modern thinking on library management to Dartmouth. Catalogs in most libraries had until fairly recently been nothing but lists of titles. When a collection approaches 110,000 volumes, or even more, trying to find something specific from such a list is no more efficient than randomly looking at shelf after shelf. By 1893, Bisbee had begun the task of completely reclassifying the Library, including producing a card catalog that provided a subject approach, as well as author and title, to the collection. Bisbee's system was modeled after that of library pioneer Charles Ammi Cutter, whose work was considered at the time the ultimate in scientific library practice. It worked well for the collection for many years, but became a major source of confusion in the 1960s. The records do not indicate how much of the actual cataloging was done by Bisbee himself. By 1902 the library was subscribing to a service of the Library of Congress that supplied catalog cards. The Dartmouth cataloger, whether librarian or student assistant, still had to write or type the call number on the cards, but not having to produce a set of cards for each book was a welcome time–saver; Bisbee wrote that “no library can profitably continue to write its own catalogue.”
In his annual reports, Bisbee justified his requests for appropriations by increases in the size of the faculty and number of academic departments, with related increases in “scholarly work . . . the place of the library in educational work is growing in importance.” A Dartmouth student, James Gerould, Class of 1895, prepared in association with Bisbee a “Bibliography of Dartmouth College” that was to be “printed in the
Some of the early histories of the College were published at this time, using documents and records held by the Library. Before the construction of Wilson Hall, records, manuscripts, and publications relating to College and Hanover history had been “housed in various locations on campus and in private homes.”  The new building provided space where this material could be held in a single and accessible location; the collection later became known as the College Archives. Bisbee's reports record noteworthy additions, particularly Webster manuscripts, to the archival collection.
A related collection, the Alumni Alcove, also found a home in Wilson. The volume of publications by Dartmouth alumni had grown steadily since Nathan Crosby's initial proposal in 1872. The subject matter encompasses theology, law, literature, and history; the collection shows “the wideness of the interests of Dartmouth graduates, the soundness of their instruction, and the vast range of their influence.”  The Library no longer attempts to collect all publications by Dartmouth graduates; the alumni books are still housed in Special Collections in the new Rauner Library.
The Library had improved dramatically from its earliest days, especially with the assimilation of the society libraries and the construction of a thoroughly modern facility. Yet Bisbee still worried that without an increase in resources to keep up with the longer hours and greater use of both circulating and reference books, the College Library would fall “behind others of our class.” For many years Bisbee had had no help except from student assistants. He noted that
the librarian is now responsible for nearly the full work of an instructor. In view of this fact, some larger provision for assistance in the library would seem to be necessary.
The library is feeling a steadily growing pressure to fill a larger place in the work of the college, and the librarian ventures to express the hope that the Trustees
By 1907, a full–time cataloger was on the staff. A reference librarian was about to leave for another job, and Bisbee expressed to the Trustees the need for an “efficient and permanent head of this most important department.” Harold Goddard Rugg, Class of 1906, was by then on the staff, working with the collection of newspapers formerly belonging to the Northern Academy, which had disbanded in 1903. In the following year, a new reference librarian had been hired, and Bisbee commented on the Library's “unusual smoothness and efficiency, due in part at least to increased permanence of the force.” 
The years of Bisbee's administration formed a significant turning point in the history of the College Library. Bisbee became Librarian before professional degrees in librarianship were commonplace, but his management of the Library reflected his awareness of trends in academic librarianship throughout the country. He was granted a leave of absence in 1900 to study “the latest methods of library administration in Europe and America.” He was also the last Librarian to have both teaching and pastoral responsibilities at the College. Dartmouth was then still a fairly small institution, and Bisbee surely had more personal involvement with both students and faculty than would be possible today.
From the founding of the College in 1769 to the final consolidation of the libraries in 1903, the function of a “library” in the College evolved slowly from a small collection of specialized or archaic books with limited access and availability to a large collection of books, both for reference and borrowing, on a wide variety of subjects. A time–traveling student of 2002 could walk into the Wilson Hall of 1890 and recognize it instantly as a college library—an old–fashioned one, to be sure, with no computers or microforms or photocopiers—but a library nonetheless. The same student could walk into Mr. Woodward's home in 1774 and admire the collection of “very good books” but would probably not call it a “library.” From the turn of the century onward, change would come with sometimes dizzying speed, but the role of the Library as an enterprise central to the College's educational mission was firmly established.
For a year after Marvin Bisbee's retirement in 1910, there was no designated College Librarian. The circulation librarian, as ranking member of the staff, was nominally in charge, but ultimate responsibility for the Library rested with the President of the College. In late 1911, the Trustees chose Nathaniel Lewis Goodrich, a graduate of the New York State Library School, to be Mr. Bisbee's successor. His duties and salary were to begin in January 1912. Goodrich's tenure, from 1912 until 1950, is the longest in the Woodward Succession and covers an unparalleled array of changes both in the College and the country. In his thirty–eight years as Librarian, Goodrich saw the Dartmouth Library through two world wars, a depression, several major changes in the College's educational philosophy and curriculum, and, most significantly, the construction of Baker Library.
Under President Tucker's administration, from 1893 to 1909, the College had grown in both size and reputation, so much so that Tucker was said to have created the “New Dartmouth.” Its students came from all over the country, alumni clubs were becoming better organized and influential, and the curriculum had evolved from a narrowly–prescribed set of courses through a somewhat haphazard system of electives to a more structured program of both required courses and electives, but with a broader range of courses available. By 1912, when Goodrich became Librarian, Wilson Hall, dedicated with such pride and ceremony only a few decades past, was already being perceived as inadequate to meet the needs of faculty and students. Near the end of his nearly forty years as Librarian, Goodrich recalled that upon taking office he had
endeavored to sense the needs of the faculty and students, and the wishes of the administration, and to satisfy them as far as conditions permitted. Beyond these
Goodrich devoted the first decades of his tenure to dealing with, and improving, those conditions.
The Faculty Committee on the Library, of which the Librarian was a member and sometime chairman, brought up a number of issues that would recur in many subsequent debates about the College's library facilities. Some had turned up in earlier years. A 1906 committee report reaffirmed Bisbee's desire that the departmental libraries should eventually become part of the College's collection: “Centralization of book collections is the policy of the library.” The Physics Department had actually asked for some supervision from the “main” library, although the collection was housed in the department's building and not Wilson. The committee recommended that the departmental collections should be cataloged. A new library, should one ever be built, should include a plan for “extensive enlargement"; should provide for special collections and a vault for irreplaceable items; should contain rooms that promoted recreational reading; and should have a limited number, if any, of seminar rooms or classrooms. Location “removed from the center of college activities . . . would provide an excuse for non–use;” the north end of the campus should be the “active center of the college.”
Discussion of new library facilities was curtailed by the outbreak of war in Europe and the subsequent involvement of the United States, and other library projects were similarly affected. The system of cataloging and classification that in Bisbee's time had been such an advance was proving unworkable as the collection increased, and Goodrich wanted to recatalog the collection according to the Dewey Decimal System. It was to be a monumental undertaking, and the plan was postponed until the end of the war. Although enrollment had dropped, the College was able to keep functioning, but because of reduced staff and funding, projects like reclassification necessarily were put on hold. Other effects of the war were felt in the Library. The Faculty Committee on the Library made note of the difficulty in getting books from Europe, especially Germany. The Librarian went on leave of absence to serve in the Army, leaving an acting librarian in charge. The Library patriotically subscribed to Stars and Stripes, the Army newspaper.
The unsettled state of Europe after the war resulted in a “price débâcle” that allowed American institutions to purchase scholarly works that would have otherwise
The Faculty Committee resumed its discussion of library problems, and in 1920 issued a report entitled “A Library Building for Dartmouth College.” The recommendations in the report differ only slightly from those mentioned in the pre–war debates. Many of the issues were stated in the form of questions:
Are we to plan a College or a University library? . . .
Is the encouragement of recreational reading a library duty? . . .
Are we to sacrifice ‘atmosphere' to administrative efficiency? . . .
Issues concerning the scope of the collections did not figure prominently in these discussions, but it is interesting to note that the gift of some miniature symphonic scores brought some depth to a previously–neglected area. Another suggestion was that the library should develop a collection “in out–of–door sport.” The faculty's decision to offer courses in evolution and citizenship also affected choices in books ordered for the collection. As the College added new areas of study, it became harder for both faculty and Librarian to keep up with publication in so many fields. The committee noted that an “ideal library would have on its staff a number of assistants, perhaps one from each ‘divisional' field, whose chief work would be keeping in touch with the literature.” Funds were to be distributed by department. This idea was developed more fully much later when the Library added several selection officers to the staff.
In May of 1925 the Dartmouth faculty adopted a new plan for the organization of undergraduate study that brought further importance to the discussion of Library issues. A 1923 faculty committee had reported that “higher standards should be set in most courses . . . teaching should be more stimulating.” The Committee on Educational Policy had been “startled out of its complacency" by a subsequent report from a retired professor that
American undergraduates, not only at Dartmouth, but in all American universities and colleges, were doing no work, that they graduated without knowing anything, that they graduated without even wanting to know anything, and that the responsibility for this state of affairs was not theirs, nor could it honestly be attributed to the disproportionate interest in athletics.
President Hopkins subsequently charged Professor Leon Burr Richardson, Class of 1900, with undertaking a study of universities and colleges both in the United States and Europe, and in an unprecedented move, sought undergraduate opinion in the form of a committee made up of the most able men in the senior class. The students recommended classes modeled after “the Tutorial System at Harvard” and a major field of study demonstrating “reasonable mastery of a subject” as shown by a “general comprehensive examination.” The students recognized that such a program would “require an increase in library facilities.”
Both the student committee report and Richardson's study, which emphasized the value of independent work once a general core of knowledge had been acquired, received wide notice in the press. The Dartmouth faculty approved the new system, to take effect with the Class of 1929. The principal features were that the student, in the first two years, should gain “a general familiarity with the various departments of knowledge,” and that in the last two years should “devote himself to the study of some one department of knowledge so that it may no longer be said of him that he has merely a ‘smattering’ of everything, but no thorough comprehension of anything.” The students were to take a comprehensive examination in the major field. The new plan made provision for an honors program of individual study for exceptional students.
With a new curriculum emphasizing independent reading, at least for about twenty percent of the two upper classes, the inadequacies of Wilson became even more apparent. The student body in 1925 was about five times larger than in 1885, when Wilson was built, and the number of courses offered and book collections to support them had similarly increased. There was such a shortage of space that books were stored in basements in Wilson and other buildings; the disarray made it difficult to find a book when needed. A committee member noted that Wilson was “a sad old library, but the books are used.” At the same time, a description of the Library in relation to the College's athletic facilities was becoming distressingly commonplace. In 1925 a debating team from Oxford University visited Dartmouth, and one of the debaters allegedly said
that he had a special interest in coming to Dartmouth because he had heard that the College had the largest gymnasium and the smallest library of any college in America.
This diatribe appeared in a number of versions, sometimes merely that Dartmouth's gym was larger than its Library, without the invidious comparisons. Regardless of its literal truth, in any of its incarnations the idea was widespread enough to drive the Trustees and President Hopkins to speed up the ongoing consideration of a new library building.
At the 22 October 1925 meeting of the Board of Trustees, Lewis Parkhurst, Class of 1878, recalled an address by President Tucker some twenty years ago before a group of Boston alumni, in which he cited several goals of his administration—a new gymnasium, an administration building, and a library—and that Dartmouth was “still without a library,” the other buildings having been completed. It was Parkhurst's opinion that the delay was fortunate, since the College's needs had changed so dramatically in the succeeding years that building an addition to Wilson at that time would have been “like throwing money away.” In building the New Dartmouth, which included adding a graduate school of business to the already existing medical and engineering schools, President Tucker had had to allay fears among many alumni that the College was slowly turning into a university, although it probably would have to become more than a “small college.” In its deliberations about Library issues more than twenty years later, the Trustees affirmed that Dartmouth had “no expectations of becoming a university or any pretensions in that direction.” The Trustees unanimously voted that they “take measures for the immediate construction of a library building” and that “the President appoint a special committee” to study all aspects of the proposed venture.
Construction was not, of course, immediate. Members of the Faculty Library Committee and the Special Library Committee spent a large portion of their professional lives over the course of two years discussing problems and opportunities. They spent considerable time trying to ensure that any new library would not outgrow its usefulness with the regrettable speed that Wilson had. Professor Charles N. Haskins, of the faculty committee, visited Vassar and learned from its librarian that that college had had a similar experience; Vassar had built a new library twenty years ago, and twelve years later, it needed enlarging. The Vassar librarian recommended the inclusion of a staff room, staff offices, and a map room.
Goodrich met with members of the student society Palaeopitus, who voiced a concern that continues to this day: the need for study space in the Library, because of
A separate group, the Committee on Physical Development of the Plant, recommended to President Hopkins in a 1927 report that an art library should be constructed “adjacent and attached to the Library” but “under the administration of the Library force.” The committee reiterated a point made previously about the proposed Library's location: “It is logical to make the Library the focal point of the cultural and artistic interest of the College.”
Gradually the vision of the new building took shape. The committees wanted to position the new building at the center of the campus, which had been proposed as far back as 1919. This location became more certain after they determined that the “removal of Butterfield Museum,” constructed in 1895 within living memory of most of the faculty, involved no “legal difficulty.” Unknowingly anticipating developments many years yet in the future, they foresaw that property to the north of the Library would eventually be owned by the College. However, nothing came of the proposal—at this remove, it is impossible to tell how serious it was—to buy land in Vermont “seen across the river over Tuck Drive . . . to prevent the possibility of future ugly use.”
Shortly before the Special Committee was succeeded by a building committee, Goodrich presented a report to the Trustees, his “Interpretation of the Plans,” that outlined what the new library was to look like. The report described the location of various Library functions such as the reference room, delivery desk, book stacks, staff working areas, and space for valuable and rare items. The details are perhaps less important than Goodrich's interpretation of the overall design and the philosophical concepts that informed it. Excerpts from his report show what Goodrich expected of the new building and its place in the College mission:
The building is designed, not primarily as a storehouse for books, but rather as a help in the liberal education of students, directly through its provisions for instruction, study and service, and indirectly through its beauty, comfort, and informality. Libraries have been variously designed—as architectural monuments, as research workshops, as storage warehouses, as all that could be had for a given sum. We have tried to avoid all of these. . . .
On the second floor . . . is a stately room, 150 feet long, rising through two floors and into the roof trusses, lit by tall south windows. It will have fireplaces and ash trays, club chairs and lounges. On long tables will be always a selection of the most interesting new things in print. Stimulating and lovable books, old and new, will be around the walls. . . . It will be an informal room. Subdued conversation can be carried on. Faculty and students will drop in for relaxation and stimulation. Many will feel, in after years, that here have been spent some of their most memorable hours. . . .
At the present stage of the plans, interior finish, decoration, furniture, are still but delightful imaginings. . . . It would be brutal to waste the possibilities of these admirably proportioned rooms by skimping in such matters, skimping in either thought or cost. It is the intention to make each of the larger rooms so quietly charming a thing that therein work will be easier, and thereafter a memory of it will persist.
This, then, is a building for students and faculty, a pleasant place for the making of contacts, with books, with each other. Likewise it is a place for hard, secluded, effective work—but there have been many such. We have attempted the difficult task of providing adequately for both. . . .
By night, from its lanterned arcade, from its many windows, a glow of light will give life to the north end of the campus. Compelling by charm, dominant perhaps, but not domineering, it may prove not inadequate to its position—the intellectual center of the college.
Jens Fredrick Larson, the College Architect, was chosen to design the building. In July of 1926, the Special Committee was disbanded and succeeded by a building committee. The voluminous files of this committee show the deliberations over every nut and bolt in the new library.
The Trustees and faculty did not, of course, overlook the matter of cost in their deliberations. Their plans were made without any assurance that sufficient funds could be raised, but they were well aware that an undertaking of such magnitude would require a substantial donation. The story of how funds became available has acquired the status of folklore, but it is essentially true; the mythological elements derive from its fortuitousness. George Fisher Baker, a longtime friend of Edward Tuck, had mentioned to trustee Henry B. Thayer that he wanted to “do something for Dartmouth in memory of his uncle, Fisher Ames Baker,” of the Class of 1859 and a Civil War soldier. George Baker had “walked all the way from his home in Troy, New York, to see [his uncle] graduated from Dartmouth.” As President Hopkins recalled,
Mr. Baker asked him what the College could do with $25,000. “Not much,” Mr. Hopkins replied. “Why, I thought anyone could use $25,000," said Baker. “Yes, they could,” Mr. Hopkins answered, “but that amount wouldn't provide the sort of memorial that would be worthy of your uncle or you.”
In December 1924, Baker sent securities worth $100,000 “to establish the Fisher Ames Baker Endowment Fund for educational purposes.” The saga continues:
Mr. Hopkins recalled that in thanking Mr. Baker he decided to press his luck and wrote that he was turning the securities over to the College treasurer “on account.” Mr. Baker is reported to have got in touch with Mr. Thayer and asked, “How much is it going to cost me to buy my way out of this situation?”
While in London in November 1925, Mr. Thayer wrote to Baker suggesting that he might want to consider giving the library in memory of his uncle.
The result of the correspondence among Thayer, Hopkins, and Baker was the announcement, in early 1926, of an anonymous gift of one million dollars. In November of that year, the Boston Herald “made a good guess” about the donor, which was confirmed by President Hopkins. Baker was so impressed by the efficiency of the planning and construction, which had stayed within original cost estimates, that he donated another million dollars to endow a fund for maintenance of the building. Construction began in the summer of 1926, and the building was partially in use by early 1928. The move of books from Wilson, under the direction of Circulation Librarian Ellen
The building was dedicated in June 1928, during Commencement Week. In an article in Library Journal, Goodrich quoted his remarks at the dedication, describing the new Library as the culmination of the years of effort that had gone into the planning:
Those who planned this library planned . . . so to place the building that it be at the heart of the campus, yet so that related buildings could be grouped around it; to draw in all the books of the college . . . They believed that students should be given a chance to acquire the habit of reading as a resource for leisure, as the surest way to retain a keen and useful mind . . .
Of the background of these beliefs . . . of the best of the heritage of the past, the tower is the symbol—for Dartmouth an inspiration, for the world a sign.
For him, the tower was especially symbolic:
The tower stands at the axis of the old campus and the new . . . The college needed an architectural focus, symbolizing its spiritual purpose. Reminiscent of Independence Hall . . . the tower unites the old Dartmouth and the new.
The alcoves in the Reference Room were modeled after those in the separate college libraries of Cambridge and Oxford, which had impressed Goodrich, on a visit to England in the middle 1920s, with their quiet and seclusion. On a separate trip to England, Hopkins had heard the bells of Oxford and Cambridge and was determined that the new Library tower should have a chime of bells. A donation of $40,000 by Clarence B. Little, Class of 1881, made the installation of the bells possible. Hopkins was also responsible for the design of the weathervane. The six–foot–high weathervane, designed by Stanley Orcutt, depicts Eleazar Wheelock, Samson Occom, the Old Pine on Observatory Hill, and a keg of rum. Other design elements were accidental; the gray–green paint on the Reference Room woodwork, which fit the room so well, “was found later to match exactly the original colonial paint of the Alexandria Ballroom, now in the American Wing of the Metropolitan Museum.”
Goodrich's article describes in some detail the Reference Room, Reserve Room, Circulation Desk, the Class of 1902 study room, and staff working areas. Several other
Baker Library became known throughout the country as one of the finest—most of the Dartmouth family firmly believed the finest—academic library in the country serving primarily an undergraduate student body. Princeton and Yale, among other institutions planning new library facilities, looked to Dartmouth and Baker for inspiration and guidance. The planning, construction, and dedication of Baker once and for all put to rest the notion of Dartmouth's lack of attention to intellectual concerns.
George Baker's munificent donation had thwarted the intention of Edwin Webster Sanborn, Class of 1878, to leave his estate to Dartmouth to erect a library in memory of his father, Edwin David Sanborn, who had been College Librarian from 1866 to 1874. By a remarkable display of diplomacy on the part of Hopkins and the Trustees, Sanborn was eventually persuaded to leave the estate to the College after all, primarily to establish an endowment fund for the purchase of books. A little over $300,000 was designated for a building to house the Department of English. Named Sanborn House, it was erected at the southwest corner of Baker and connected to it by an underground corridor. In addition to professors' offices and a library, Sanborn House included a room designed as a replica of Sanborn's study. The building was intended to perpetuate the kind of close relationship that Professor Sanborn had maintained with his students. Income from the fund was also to be used for “upkeep and maintenance” of Sanborn House, and for repairs and “renewal or alteration” of “furnishings and equipment.” The amount of the bequest left for the book purchase endowment was approximately $1,300,000. The income from this endowment ensured that the College Library would develop and improve its collections and services in the coming decades despite the challenges of depression and war.
Several months before Sanborn House was dedicated, in September of 1929, Carpenter Hall, the new home of the Art Department, had been dedicated, completing this significant phase of campus expansion. In the 1920s, art books had been moved from Wilson to Culver Hall, then to the mezzanine level in Baker in 1928, and to Carpenter in 1929. During the 1920s Hopkins had presided over an unprecedented period of prosperity for the College that included renovating and building new dormitories
It wasn't long before it became difficult to remember Dartmouth before Baker; its design and location made it a central attraction for both the College community and visitors. Public services—stacks, circulation, reserve, reference—quickly found their places in students' lives. Other departments were not so well known, but have continued to be important throughout the years. The Treasure Room, Hough's Room, has already been mentioned. The College Archives, a collection of official records, letters, and other materials relating to Dartmouth's history, was located on the lower level at the west end of the building; Mildred L. Saunders was the first archivist. Goodrich was particularly interested in maps; Dartmouth's excellent collection, housed in the early years on the mezzanine at Baker's east side, was greatly enhanced during his tenure. The collection had exceptionally good coverage of the Hanover area and the rest of New Hampshire, especially from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
These collections and services were described from time to time in the Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, begun in 1931 under Goodrich's editorship. His foreword to the first issue states his hope that “a periodical, published occasionally during the college year,” would bring to light “much interesting material which is of no use to the college because no one knows about it.” Issues of the Bulletin through 1953 contained information about major accessions, gifts, and functions of various Library departments. In general it served as a newsletter for the Library. Goodrich dutifully produced statistical reports for the Trustees, as required, but left little in the way of formal, narrative annual reports; the Bulletin serves as a chronicle of his years as Librarian.
Early in 1931, the Bulletin noted that “As a result of the funds now available the DARTMOUTH LIBRARY ranks among the first five or six academic libraries of the East from the standpoint of expenditure for books.” The Faculty Committee rated it tenth in the entire country. Two years later, Goodrich reported on the decision by the committee not to spend all of the Sanborn funds “in a hurry.” By this time, the economic depression had begun to have an effect on the income from the endowment, but the decision to reserve some of the funds ensured that book purchases could continue. Goodrich also regretted the restrictions on expenditure of the Sanborn fund; there was a very real possibility that faculty salaries would have to be cut, and Goodrich was willing to give up a portion of Library funds to support other needs of the College
In the early 1930s, students diligently reading in the Reserve Room were given an unprecedented opportunity to watch a monumental work of modern art take shape before their eyes. In the spring of 1932, the Art Department had invited the Mexican muralist José Clemente Orozco to the campus to instruct students in the art of fresco painting. Nothing intrigues a muralist so much as a long stretch of bare wall, and the 3,000 square feet of wall in Baker's Reserve Corridor beckoned irresistibly as an opportunity to paint a “portrayal of the epic of ancient and modern civilization on the American continent.” The Art Department proposed, and Hopkins approved, the mural project, and from June 1932 to February 1934, Orozco carried out his work alongside the more conventional business of the Reserve Room. Students assisted him in applying plaster and transferring drawings. One of these students, Gobin Stair, Class of 1933, is currently living in Kingston, Massachusetts, where he is still creating controversial murals in that town's public buildings.
To say that the final result was “controversial” is an understatement bordering on the ludicrous. At a time when the depression threatened the College's financial situation and alumni support was crucial, Hopkins defended the frescoes against the vehement and sometimes vitriolic flood of criticism. Alumni and others made charges of “grotesque modernism” and deplored the artist's socialism. In Hopkins's view, the painter's freedom of expression and the “educational value” of the murals were worth the controversy. His ambivalence shows; although eventually “he liked the murals more and more as he studied them,” his “one piece of advice” to his successor as President, John Sloan Dickey, is well known: “Never have anything to do with murals.” A letter from an alumnus summed up the ambivalence felt by many— “Anyhow, I don't like Orozco's frescoes. I am glad they are there”—and another wrote to Goodrich that the frescoes would “bewilder the imagination"; the observer will ask, “was the artist crazy or am I?” 
Goodrich makes no mention of exactly how much say he may have had in the location of one of the twentieth century's most famous works of art, but knowing the wry sense of humor that was never completely concealed behind his reserved appearance, one can imagine the bemusement with which he must have observed the controversy swirling around his Library. He wrote that he had “a feeling that he may be very glad he was privileged to watch the artist at work,” admitting that he
at first failed to get aesthetic pleasure from this mural, and recoiled from its unpleasant connotations. . . It seems clear, at any rate, that into this fresco have gone sincerity and intellectual force and creative imagination, wherefore the college is fortunate, and may await with little anxiety the verdict of time.
The depression brought unexpected benefits to the Library. A number of students earned part of their expenses by working under National Youth Administration programs. One of the projects was preparing a card index to The Dartmouth, which has proved its worth many times over in the succeeding years. The student newspaper provides an invaluable and unique record of campus life at any given time, with information that rarely appears anyplace else. Other student jobs were treating leather–bound books in an effort to preserve their usefulness and preparing a list of the Library's newspaper holdings that showed which papers in the collection covered given time periods.
In the mid–1930s, an “unusual number” of undergraduates expressed interest in book collecting and fine printing. Some of them formed a club, the Daniel Oliver Associates, named after a member of the Class of 1785 who was “the first undergraduate to make a donation of books to the Library,” and several took advantage of the establishment in Baker of Ray Nash's Graphic Arts Workshop, using his printing press. For many years Nash introduced generations of Dartmouth students to the art of printing. One of their earliest projects was the printing of Dartmouth students' senior theses. The spirit of his Graphic Arts Workshop was revived in the 1990s as the annual summer Book Arts Workshop, conducted in the same Baker corridor, on the same press.
As economic conditions improved slightly in the middle 1930s, Goodrich was able to engage the services of bookbinder Louis H. Kinder, who first set up his shop in Wilder, Vermont, but was later to move his staff and equipment into Baker, in a room beneath the Order Room. He and his staff of four did some routine repair and binding work, but also gave special treatment to rare and unusual items. He died in 1939; thereafter most of the special work of the bindery was done by Marianne Jelinek.
Goodrich was inclined, in his periodic summaries of Library activities, to state matter–of–factly that not much outside the ordinary went on from year to year. The Orozco years and Ray Nash's workshop alone refute that claim, but the later thirties gave rise to one of the most important developments in the Library's history. Goodrich tentatively explored the idea of a Friends group for the Dartmouth Library, citing groups already in existence for Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and others, that had made possible those libraries' acquisition of books and manuscripts that would have been otherwise beyond their means. Goodrich knew, of course, that the Dartmouth Library had always had “friends, without the capital initial,” but that organizing a formal group might have difficulties. Once again, Hanover's rural setting could be seen as a mixed blessing; the more populous, urban locations of sister institutions made it easier for their Friends groups to meet frequently and casually. Goodrich wanted to make sure that the Library was
concerned primarily with good will rather than material gifts, that membership in this group need carry no feeling of obligation . . . It seems possible that the “Friends of the Dartmouth Library” might have pleasure and render service, as have other such groups. It would be helpful if any who are interested would convey to us their opinions.
In March 1938, Herbert Faulkner West, Class of 1922 and Professor of English and Comparative Literature, announced his intention of proposing a friends' group at the June 1938 meeting of the Dartmouth Alumni Council. The group
will exist for the sole purpose of securing for the Baker Library—through alumni or friends of the College—by gift, or solicitation of gifts, rare books, manuscripts, letters, original material, first editions, association copies, and so on.
West's proposal was approved, and the Friends of the Dartmouth College Library was set up under the guidelines previously mentioned. It was “Open to all alumni and friends of the College”; there were to be no dues; gifts of “notable value” were to be placed if possible in the Treasure Room, “but not all gifts can be so placed, and many will be of more service if shelved elsewhere.” Issues of the Library Bulletin featured acquisitions made possible by the Friends, and later the Friends provided support not only for the Bulletin but also its own Newsletter and several notable Library book publications.
Goodrich was a notable mountain–climber and skier; his efforts are largely responsible for the Library's excellent collection on skiing. He once passed up a chance to purchase out of general funds an expensive (for 1938) book on the sport, calling the refusal a skiing enthusiast's “bending over backward to be fair,” but also wistfully observing that the book “is still wanted. Perhaps the Friends of the Baker Library at Dartmouth College can do something about that.” The Library now has two copies of the book—one with a Friends' bookplate identifying the donor as James T. White 1924.
In 1937, Goodrich had served as Librarian for twenty–five years. A special edition of the Library Bulletin, put together behind his back, so to speak, was dedicated to a celebration of this quarter century. Goodrich had made the best of the small collection of about 125,000 volumes, and had worked with all the committees involved in planning the new building. The new Library required a greatly enlarged staff, and Goodrich's “care and good judgment” in selecting the “persons placed in the key positions" and other assistants was recognized. In 1937, the collection stood at 425,000, the significant increase representing a “judicious selection.” In his grateful and gracious reply to the outpourings of congratulations, Goodrich acknowledged that he could not rest on his laurels or be complacent. Bringing up a problem that had bothered Bisbee, he noted that
Students are more and more required to use the Library, instead of text books, yet they receive but slight guidance in this use. Instruction and the Library should be tied together. . . . The present system . . . is only a makeshift. At the least each division should make specific provision in its curriculum for teaching students how to use the resources of the Library to best advantage.
Librarians, students, and faculty in the twenty–first century are all too likely to think of the immense technological changes of the past decade or so as strictly modern. Consider, then, Goodrich's observations in 1937:
Science and technology are changing our world while we stand on it. Methods of instruction and library techniques must in time conform or become antiquated. . . . The card catalog, a clumsy, bulky, expensive and inadequate device, will be replaced by some development of photography and machinery.
Changes in Baker, and additions to its structure, may be necessary. Nothing in it should be considered sacred in the face of a possible greater service, except
The Faculty Committee occasionally ruminated along those lines. At one meeting, in considering a budget provision for the acquisition of some items published on microfilm, someone had read that it was possible “that very soon the book will become as obsolete as the horse and buggy.” Long before anyone had ever thought of a digital library, there were intimations of the book's demise; but as Mark Twain observed when his obituary was published in error, the reports of the book's death were decidedly premature.
Other matters occupied the committee from time to time. Library users in the middle 1930s had to contend with the noise of construction as new stacks were added. The committee also dealt with issues of student discipline. Even with the unusual privileges of open stacks, some students couldn't resist the temptation to break rules. Some freshmen had “begun to sign fictitious names” when checking out books, but the committee was not inclined to take such lapses too seriously: “Any institutional library which never suffers the loss or defacement of a book is organized as a museum and not as a library.”
Goodrich was aware that as Baker approached its tenth anniversary in 1938, the Library had “reached the end of a cycle in growth and service:"
. . . In many ways we have been the model of other enterprises, and have been kept aware of it by visiting delegations who have wished to study our ways. But now, in this building, we have passed our tenth year. Other important libraries, built in the meanwhile, have improved upon our once almost unique position. In the quality and philosophy of our service, we can persist in claiming a kind of special eminence; but solutions to all problems must be transient in any but a static society. . . . Are we to drift along, letting others pioneer, while we increase our ultimate difficulties by becoming more sot in our ways?
Goodrich saw the need for an enlargement of the stacks, more space for rarities, better lighting, and facilities for microphotography. He proposed the development of a five–year plan, asking for ideas and observations from users of the library, specifically from readers of the Library Bulletin. His invitation drew an instant response. A letter from Professor of Art Hugh Morrison, Class of 1926, voiced familiar sentiments:
. . . To venture suggestions for the improvement of an already Perfect Institution seems rash indeed, but you asked for it. . . . everything seems so nice the way it is that my first reaction is “Oh, don't touch it; you may spoil it.” But you, with the rashness and impetuosity of youth, want to make Progress; . . . Well, it's all right with me but when you decide on your plan, here's my vote:
I Deplore and View with Alarm any and all tendencies toward making Baker a research library. Of course it is already so good that it is a quite acceptable research library, as certain scholars who come here during the summer will be glad to testify . . . What I mean is any more of a research institution. Don't do it; don't, don't do it. We are not a university; we will never be—even if we wanted to—a university; we do not need to be a university, and we don't need a university library. There are already too many big libraries; . . . too many storehouses of books for Scholars—books that get used once in twenty years if they ever get used at all. . . .
No. If you make any Five–Year Plan, make it such that it will get students (and faculty) to read more books. . . . if money must be spent, spend it on getting students to read, not in getting professors to admire. . . .
That is the line of endeavor for a Five–Year Plan. To do better what we have already started to do. To continue a policy that has already made Baker unique among college and university libraries. To aim, not at a collection, but at students reading books. Believe me, there is still further along this road to travel before we need seek another branch.
In his reply, Goodrich confessed to some misgivings about esoteric and rare items, but added that “oddly enough, they actually get used sometimes, even the least likely ones. I could tell you tales thereof.” His conclusion could be seen as a sort of mission statement for the remainder of his tenure as Librarian:
I have hoped that this library can serve research and build for the future, yet be alive to the modes and the needs of the day; could be efficient, yet humane. . . . Recently I told someone that Baker was planned, and is administered, with a sense of humor. I hope it is true.
For the remainder of the decade, the question of the nature of Dartmouth as an institution and the place of its Library in its educational program were issues discussed both in the pages of the Library Bulletin and in the meetings of the Faculty Committee on the Library. A series of articles by Alexander Laing, Class of 1925, since 1937 Assistant Librarian, described in some detail the Dartmouth Library's rank
His major concern was the relationship between the ever–growing Library collection and a “college community that shows no present desire for a comparable expansion.” Webster's “small college” boasted a Library with a collection well above the average for the “country's leading universities.” The American Library Association had recently published figures showing that Dartmouth's Library ranked twelfth in collection size and eleventh in library income among the eighty–six surveyed, and was “exceeded in number of books by no other library in an institution calling itself a college.”
Laing put the issue in more elegant terms, but stating the issue bluntly, he felt that the Library was growing too big, too fast, for its own good. The seemingly limitless funds left at the disposal of the Library by the Sanborn endowment encouraged the acquisition of a large collection without taking into account the costs of acquisition and processing. But lurking behind these moderately obvious concerns was the primary one: “What kind of library are we supposed to be developing, for what kinds of ultimate users?” Laing took care not to disparage the idea of scholarship even in a primarily undergraduate college; “even an undergraduate library may be serving the student body best if the major part of its collections is such as to attract to the College teachers who are also scholars of note.” It should be noted here that President Hopkins throughout his tenure was committed to the idea of the importance of good teaching, and did nit believe that the Ph.D. degree automatically endowed the recipient with the ability to teach well. Since the late nineteenth century, many universities had developed graduate programs, with the perhaps inevitable result that numerous institutions of higher education began requiring the doctoral degree for their faculty. Hopkins often had to defend his reluctance to join the majority—and, as often, to insist that this reluctance did not indicate any disparagement of research or scholarship.
Laing wrote that some faculty members feared that the magnificence of the Library would force “inevitable evolution from a college into a university.” In sum, he listed as a first objective that the Library “shall not consciously work toward duplication of the general holdings of institutions conferring the doctorate, until notified of the intention to establish a graduate curriculum in Hanover.” He felt that the average undergraduate,
So long as the College maintains dormitories built upon a plan to encourage riot and confusion, and to make one fool's merriment audible to scores, the Library must expect a full demand for study rooms on the part of undergraduates with serious work to do.
In a subsequent article, Laing broached the idea of a core collection of a “few thousand great books that have affected the course of human history and have advanced human thought” that should be present in any library serving undergraduates. He was influenced by Teaching with Books: A Study of College Libraries, by Harvey Branscomb, whose research showed that many other colleges were grappling with the issues of growing collections and concomitant loss of effectiveness. Laing believed that once a collection reached a certain size, the vast array of choices and the complexity of the cataloging required to make the books accessible worked to the disadvantage of the average undergraduate, who was taking several courses at a time and could not afford the amount of time on library research that was available to the graduate student. Laing proposed the establishment of a separate collection of both essential books and those that should be available to the student for particular courses. The main stack would still be available to all, but would probably be used primarily by faculty and exceptional students working on research projects. The Faculty Committee on the Library eventually approved the idea in principle, but not until 1942. By that time, the country's entrance into the Second World War had effected inevitable changes in Trustees' and the administration's priorities. Harvard eventually got its Lamont Library, but Dartmouth got nothing comparable. Although the problems of a research–level library in an undergraduate college resurfaced in the postwar revisions of the curriculum, the idea of a separate undergraduate collection, although never officially repudiated, was never put into effect.
The unsettled situation in Europe had moderate effects on Library acquisitions, primarily in the area of wildly fluctuating prices of foreign publications but also in the actual content of books and journals. Political conditions in some countries influenced what sort of books got published, and acquisitions librarians everywhere had to make difficult choices with little information about the reliability of the contents of any given book. When Pearl Harbor was attacked in December 1941 and the United States entered the war, both College and Library faced challenges much more daunting than those they had survived in periods of conflict from the American Revolution through the European War of 1914–1918.
The Library was fortunate in that the stack expansion on the north side of Baker, allowed for in the original plans, had gone ahead as planned. Nothing needed for the construction was required for the war effort, and in any case most materials had been acquired and were in use before the Pearl Harbor attack. Goodrich and his staff discussed emergency procedures and tested a blackout routine. The reference librarian was working in Naval Intelligence in Washington—Goodrich himself had served in Army Intelligence in the previous war—and would soon be followed by other staff members. Howard Linton's “useless hobby—the study of certain difficult and neglected languages"—sent him to Washington on a “secret phase of the war effort.” Work routines were adjusted to assure the most efficient operation possible with a reduced staff.
In the fall of 1942, President Hopkins made a statement to The Dartmouth reassuring the College community that “no one in authority has ever considered the possibility of closing down.” Goodrich called a meeting of the staff on Armistice Day of the same year, read to them the President's statement, and further reminded them that the College had never indeed closed down, and even in the depths of the depression, no one lost his or her job. He and his staff would need this optimism and encouragement in the years ahead.
In early 1942 the Navy selected Dartmouth as the location for its Naval Reserve Officers Indoctrination School, which was followed by its Navy College Training Program. The latter, which came to be known as the V–12 program, had been set up “to give prospective naval officers the benefits of college education in those areas most needed by the Navy.” The presence of the Navy on campus gave both College and town a different look, and the effects were soon felt in the Library. The V–12 students took courses in naval science set up by the Navy but also attended some regular college courses. To the Library fell the responsibility of purchasing and distributing not only regular course materials but a tremendous flood of books for the naval courses. Ellen Adams, the circulation librarian, was honored for, among other things, organizing the “attack” in “the battle of the Navy text books.” College librarians had long felt the need for better instruction in library resources and procedures, and the methods that the Reference Department devised for the naval science courses proved useful in adapting instruction techniques for classes in the postwar years. The V–12 program lasted until the summer of 1945.
Life was not all marches and drills on the campus (although it should probably be noted that in honor of the Navy's presence, Baker's bells frequently played sea chanteys). In 1943 the Library acquired by bequest the books and library furniture of George Ticknor, Class of 1807, the noted Harvard scholar. In subsequent years the Library set up a room in Baker to house this collection. The Ticknor Room, which recreated as authentically as possible Ticknor's Park Street library, is now located in the Rauner Special Collections Library in Webster Hall.
Soon thereafter, the Faculty Committee on the Library announced that President Hopkins had established the George Ticknor Fellowship in the Humanities; Robert Frost was to be the first incumbent. Frost is one of several notable alumni who studied at the College for a very brief time yet retained a lifelong relationship with the College. Remembering time spent in Wilson Hall, “under that arch,” Frost wanted the Library to be his headquarters, and had a study furnished with Ticknor material. He met with students in a Baker seminar room; larger groups gathered in the Treasure Room. The Faculty Committee saw the Ticknor acquisition and Frost's fellowship as an inspiring continuation of a “great tradition of humane scholarship” in wartime.
Despite the hardships imposed by wartime conditions, including an altered academic calendar, shortened programs, and early Commencements, in the last years of the war both College and Library were actively engaged in planning for the postwar period. John Sloan Dickey, Class of 1929, following a distinguished career in the State Department, succeeded Hopkins as President in November 1945. For several years the faculty's Committee on Educational Policy, with a special subcommittee on the curriculum, had been exploring changes in students' required courses so that they could be introduced to a wider variety of fields of knowledge and could thus make better choices of majors. The new curriculum went into effect in the fall of 1946. President Dickey added a course in what he called the Great Issues, to be required of all seniors beginning in the following fall. The idea for the Great Issues course grew out of Dickey's career in public service and his view that the work of the first three years of study should enable the student to bring an intelligent focus “on the great national and international problems of the world today which he must confront as an acting citizen.” The topics covered would vary from year to year; the course was to feature lectures by “distinguished authorities visiting the campus,” followed by extensive reading in current newspapers and journals covering world affairs.
It was this aspect of the program that most directly affected the Library. A room, designated the Public Affairs Laboratory, on Baker's lower level, was devoted to the newspapers and other readings for the course, including maps and books written by the visiting lecturers. The Library had to acquire current issues of a wide range of papers, since one object of the course was to demonstrate how several different papers could present greatly differing interpretations of the same event. A required first–year course, “The Individual and the College,” was also headquartered in Baker.
By late 1946, Faculty Committee deliberations reflected changing conditions following the war. Domestic book production picked up and foreign publications again became available, but in the next few years purchasing power declined. The Treasure Room reopened and the Senior Fellowship program, which had been suspended in 1942, was resumed. The student body and faculty both grew larger, and circulation soon reached the pre–war level. Assistant librarians, as well as the Librarian of the College, were invited to attend committee meetings. More staff was needed for both
In the last years of the decade, the innovative curriculum, academically talented student body, and the still–high quality of its Library kept Dartmouth's reputation on a level with that of much larger institutions. Library committee members were still insisting that “Dartmouth is not a university and the whole historical trend of its declared policy is against becoming one,” but they had to admit, somewhat ruefully, that “we are no longer a small college.” Goodrich instituted a staff in–service training program and several offices or departments to “get its resources better understood, more intensively used, both by faculty and students.” The Education Office in the Library was to plan for better integration of the Library with instruction, and the Department of Bibliography was to assist both Library staff and faculty locate out of print or otherwise difficult–to–obtain publications. At the close of his thirty–eight–year tenure as Librarian, Goodrich acknowledged the assistance of the staff, which had grown from six in 1912 to sixty–six in 1950, from the assistant librarians to the janitor. The collection had grown from 125,000 volumes to 655,000. No longer a small college, no longer a small library, Dartmouth and its Library ended an era in 1950, and was poised to enter a new one.
When Richard Wedge Morin 1924 became Librarian following Goodrich's retirement, there was some initial skepticism. He was a Dartmouth alumnus (following tradition), but his professional background was in law and business, and he did not have a degree, graduate or undergraduate, in librarianship. Goodrich was the first Librarian with a professional degree, and some on the staff were concerned that Morin's appointment was not a step in the right direction. His ability to develop good relationships with the College administration and his attention to personnel matters soon won him not only acceptance but wholehearted appreciation:
We shall say it point–blank—Mr. Morin did not come to us as a “professional librarian"—oh, misused words! Those professional librarians who would have had the qualities that our library needed in the fifties were indeed few in number. . . .
. . . We would not have accomplished what we have without the steady, encouraging and diplomatic guidance of the Librarian.
Inheriting a staff of over sixty–five, he had charge of an organization that during his tenure evolved into a Library system comprising Baker and several associated libraries, a staff of over 100, and a collection approaching one million volumes.
Morin began his administration by reviving the custom of issuing annual reports other than bare statistics. As evidence of the growing complexity of administration, more separate departments of the Library began issuing their own reports. By the middle 1950s, the Library staff had grown considerably. An unintentional but probably unavoidable greater distance between upper–level management and staff made
The three–term academic calendar that began in the year 1958–1959 included yet another change in the curriculum, again with the intent of fostering independent work and less reliance on textbooks. The reading program provided a wide range of general works for freshmen and sophomores and more specialized titles, recommended by academic departments, for the upper classes. Efforts to broaden students' opportunities for recreational reading were enhanced by the Berkeley Fairfax Jones Memorial Fund to establish small collections in residence halls. Morin revived the Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, with an editorial board of teaching faculty, librarians from the Reference Department, and the Educational Services Adviser. The new series was more scholarly in nature and was intended to help both faculty and students make better use of Library resources. Articles featured the Library's holdings in many different subject areas, and suggested topics for student research. To increase awareness of new acquisitions, a bulletin board displaying the covers of new additions to the collection was set up near the Circulation Desk.
The original plans for Baker had made provisions for expansion. In the late 1940s an annex had been added, and between 1957 and 1959 the east courtyard was partially filled in and the west courtyard fully filled in, providing better space for several technical services departments, Rare Books, and Archives. The continued growth in
In the early 1950s, amidst the ordinary day–to–day operations of an academic library, the Dartmouth Library found itself in the national news. The 1950s are not generally regarded as a time of great controversy, especially in comparison with the tumultuous two decades that followed, but even then the political climate had effects on the Library. During the period of Senator Joseph McCarthy's ascendancy, some controversial books had been withdrawn from U.S. Information Agency libraries abroad. At Commencement in 1953, President Dwight Eisenhower was to be awarded an honorary Doctor of Laws degree. He was not the featured Commencement speaker, but had agreed to say a few words to the graduating class. His “few words” made headlines around the world as a defense of academic freedom against such incidents as McCarthy's action:
Don't join the book–burners. Don't think you're going to conceal faults by concealing evidence that they ever existed. Don't be afraid to go in your library and read every book, as long as any document does not offend our own ideas of decency. That should be the only censorship.
Not long thereafter, the Library issued a keepsake edition of the speech, and a plaque containing the text was mounted on the wall outside the Reference Office. The Faculty Committee on the Library recorded some opposition to the Library's endorsement of the speech, calling it propaganda. The speech, of course, was no argument for Communism, merely a statement that it could not be defeated “unless we know what it is"; nevertheless, it did uphold the right of those holding unpopular ideas to make those ideas accessible to others. Morin defended the Library's publication of the speech in a letter of 29 December 1953 to Professor Charles J. Lyon:
To suggest that Dartmouth College should shrink from association with these words is to suggest that it recant its history and abdicate its future.
Another landmark event in the 1950s gave the Dartmouth Library greater prominence as a research institution. Vilhjalmur Stefansson, the noted Arctic explorer, had amassed a significant collection of books, maps, and artifacts on the polar regions that he used as sources for his many books, especially for compiling his work–in–progress, the Encyclopedia Arctica. In 1952 he placed this library on deposit in Baker, and it was eventually acquired permanently by the Dartmouth library, “in part a gift of the Stefanssons and in part a purchase with funds provided by Albert Bradley 1915.” The collection was available to undergraduates as well as scholarly researchers, and once it was established in its own room as a part of Special Collections, it became a favorite stop on Library tours. Its presence on campus was the foundation for the College's Northern Studies program, and along with the Thayer School was a factor in the Army's decision to locate its Cold Regions Research and Engineering Laboratory in Hanover. The Stefansson Collection staff began publication of Polar Notes in 1959. The collection became the third component of the Library's Special Collections, the other two being Rare Books and Archives. Later, following the addition of a manuscripts curator to the staff, the Stefansson Collection was absorbed into the larger Special Collections.
With growth came problems of administration. When taking office in 1912, Goodrich had seen the advantages of centralized administration, but it was not to happen for almost fifty years. The introduction to Morin's 1961–1962 statistical report began with this statement:
In October, 1961, the Trustees of the College centralized control of all the College's library resources by assigning to the Librarian of the College overall responsibility for them, including those in the associated schools and departments of instruction.
This issue, like the college/university conundrum, had many facets. “Centralization” could be defined as having all collections under one roof, but as both the undergraduate College and associated schools grew, this would not have been possible without remodeling Baker into a skyscraper. As the professional schools grew—and as their academic focus became ever more specialized—the kinds of publications needed, and services offered, began to differ even more from those of Baker. But contrarily, the increasing size of all collections, including departmental collections in the sciences and music, made the efficiency and economic advantages of centralized administration more appealing. Complete centralization took many years. Gradually, functions such as ordering, cataloging, and binding were more and more done at Baker.
The three professional schools associated with the College had all grown to national prominence. Their existence had always added a particular dimension to the perennial question of whether or not Dartmouth was a college, a university, or—what came to be the prevailing position for a long time—a unique and fortunate combination of both. The Medical School had been in existence almost as long as the undergraduate College. Under the guiding spirit of Dr. Nathan Smith, a “medical department” was established in 1797, and a separate building for the school was built in 1811. In 1914, the Medical School ceased offering the M.D. degree and concentrated on the first two years of the medical students' training. Financial problems were having a deleterious effect on the teaching of basic sciences, and advances in medical education elsewhere required more opportunities for clinical education than could be provided in a rural area with a small population, even one boasting an excellent hospital. The Medical School's early library history nearly paralleled that of the College Library, as the books were moved from room to room, building to building, until the medical building was erected. There the books stayed until demands for space dictated the books' removal to the mezzanine level of Baker, soon after Baker's opening. The Medical Library remained in Baker until 1963, when the Charles A. Dana
The Thayer School of Civil Engineering was founded in 1871, following several years of correspondence between General Sylvanus Thayer, superintendent of West Point from 1817 to 1833, and Dartmouth President Asa Dodge Smith. Thayer had previously made a donation of technical books, maps, and other publications, which became the nucleus of the school's library. This library, too, had grown: The librarian noted in her 1962–1963 report that “the days are long gone when the Secretary in the office was the librarian.” Sylvanus Thayer's books are maintained as a separate collection in the Rauner Special Collections Library.
The Trustees established the Amos Tuck School of Business Administration and Finance, the third of Dartmouth's professional schools, in 1900. President Tucker and donor Edward Tuck were aware that more college graduates, including Dartmouth
A similar situation existed with respect to the mathematics collection, which was intended to be a working collection of current materials, with older publications, including back runs of math journals, housed in Baker. The Mathematics Department was to be provided a new home in the Albert Bradley Center, but there was some fear in the department that the library materials on mathematics might be included in a projected science library, contravening the intentions of John Brown Cook, Class of 1929, to establish a mathematics library in the new center. Debate in both the Library administration and Faculty Committee had been continuous for several years as it became increasingly obvious that with space running out in Baker, some separate libraries would have to be built. Eventually it was decided to place the Cook Library in the mathematics building. The Dana Biomedical Library, completed and dedicated in 1963, brought together the collections in medicine and all the biological sciences. This left physics, chemistry, and earth sciences still in Baker, until the Kresge Physical Sciences Library opened in 1974 in the Sherman Fairchild Physical Sciences Center.
When the Hopkins Center for the Performing Arts opened in 1963, the Music Department moved there from Bartlett Hall and set up a small library in the new building. Paddock Library, opened in 1962, was intended to be a small working collection of scores and recordings, with some reference material. Most books dealing with music history and musicology were housed in Baker. The Music Library was not included in the original 1961 centralization plan, but came under the College Library's administration in 1975. Paddock was extensively remodeled and expanded in 1986. The Art Library had been under the College Library's administrative control before the centralization plan. With the renovation of Carpenter Hall, this library was also remodeled and expanded, and was dedicated as the Sherman Art Library in 1970.
Paradoxically, as the College Library took administrative control of all libraries on campus, their expanding collections, as noted above, required the construction of
Morin, like his immediate predecessors, was concerned about the role of the Library in an institution that was growing in a perhaps unique way. Located far from any urban centers, with three professional schools but very small graduate programs, the College had nonetheless established a reputation far surpassing even that of President Tucker's New Dartmouth. The Ivy League, an informal association formed to promote and regulate athletic contests (primarily football) among institutions with similar academic philosophies, linked Dartmouth with Harvard, Yale, and five other schools of the highest national reputation for academic excellence. To the general public, the term “Ivy League” soon came to stand for the schools' academic reputation at least as much as for their athletic programs. Morin's annual reports reflect his acknowledgement that Dartmouth had, in fact, become a small university. As a consequence, the Library, in the coming years, must support the needs of advanced scholarship while maintaining the high quality of its commitment to undergraduate needs.
The quality of Dartmouth's educational programs entitled the College to its place with the larger institutions, but by 1952 the Library, while still ranking high among libraries serving primarily undergraduates, had lost standing among the larger university libraries and was no longer a member of the Association of Research Libraries, which had voted to reduce its institutional memberships. In correspondence relating to the ARL membership, Morin defended Dartmouth's status as a research library—he believed that the Stefansson Collection alone should qualify Dartmouth's Library as a research facility—while still not wanting to “suggest that there is the slightest likelihood of Dartmouth College ever altering its essentially undergraduate character to become a ‘university.'”
Anticipating an era of significant changes, both Morin and the Trustees saw the need for major studies on the needs of College and Library. On Morin's invitation, Richard Logsdon, head of the Columbia University libraries, produced an independent study of the Library system and recommended some changes in administrative structure. A more important and far–reaching study, primarily concerning acquisitions and cataloging, was done by Maurice Tauber, of Columbia University's School of Library Service. His report took note of the ambiguous relationship between the College Library and the libraries of the associated schools and suggested that the Catalog department, located in Baker, should be “the central cataloging unit for all libraries.” He also recommended the abolition of the Bibliography Department, which had
More significant needs were brought up by the Libraries Study Council of the Trustees Planning Committee, or TPC. The TPC had been set up in the mid–1950s to assess the College's long–term needs and to prepare for the 1969 Bicentennial. Over the years many groups prepared reports for the TPC. The major recommendations of the Libraries Study Council and its faculty subcommittee were greater appropriations for acquisitions; an enlarged staff, including librarians with specific responsibilities for selecting materials for the collections; gradually introducing various new technologies, especially in circulation and technical services; changing to the Library of Congress classification system; and maintaining the policy of open stack access. Other topics considered were the function of the Tower Room and policies regarding use of the libraries by people with no formal connection with the College.
The last–named issue had surfaced in previous discussions and would come up again in later years. Visiting scholars had always been duly appreciative of the Library's hospitality and the quality and depth of the collections. Again, Dartmouth's location in a relatively isolated, semi–rural area set it apart from many of its sister institutions. While recognizing its primary obligation to the faculty, students, and staff of the College, the Library had developed a sense of responsibility to the larger community. There was no major research library several subway stops away to which the Dartmouth librarians could refer the local user. At the same time, what Morin noted as the growing “urbanization of the Upper Connecticut Valley”  increased non–College demands on the Library's staff and collections. The needs of local high–school students have been a continuing challenge for the Library. Over the years, the Library administration has tried various formulas to provide access to qualified students without undue strain on resources or inconvenience to the Library's primary clientele.
Many of the TPC recommendations were put into effect during the 1960s. Selection officers were added to the staff to take some of the burden of collection development from the faculty departmental representatives. The Library began cataloging books by the Library of Congress classification, resulting in faster and more efficient processing. This change was not welcomed by everyone; strict adherence to the system meant that a book on some economic issue might end up in the business library, and unless an additional copy was bought for Baker, the student in an economics class would have to hike over to the Tuck library to get it. Baker's Reference Department had responsibility for the microtext and government–documents collections, and while each reference librarian was expected to be knowledgeable about all parts of the collection, the annual reports made note of an increasingly departmentalized system. Nevertheless, the Library was still small enough to retain some of the informality of the previous era. Morin frequently met informally with Senior Fellows and other groups of students, discussing anything from world affairs to literature. His black Lab, Daphne, frequently accompanied him to the office, and a small apricot poodle belonging to the Assistant Librarian for Readers' Services often curled up in a file–cabinet drawer. Rosie's sudden emergence from the drawer disconcerted more than one visitor to Baker's Main Office.
Librarian Morin retired in mid–1968. In the same year, Edward Connery Lathem, Class of 1951,was appointed Librarian of the College. Mr. Lathem, with a master's degree from Columbia's School of Library Service, had been on the Library staff since 1953, eventually becoming Director of Special Collections and Assistant, later Associate, Librarian. He was—and still is—a noted scholar of Robert Frost. His association with Frost, his direction of the publication of the Webster Papers microfilm edition, and his primary role in the founding of the University Press of New England would alone have greatly enhanced the Dartmouth Library's reputation as a center of scholarship. Many developments of the 1968–1978 decade continued the Library's long–established commitment to high–quality service and also set the stage for the Library's evolution into the modern technologically–advanced institution of today.
Several of Mr. Lathem's innovations indicated his desire to connect the Library with recognition of achievement of both Dartmouth faculty and the larger academic–library community. In 1969, he instituted the Dartmouth author display. For many years in Baker's Main Hall and now in the reference area in the Berry Library, handsome display tables exhibit recently–published books by Dartmouth faculty, accompanied
Mr. Lathem's contributions to scholarship are many and varied. A special issue of the Dartmouth College Library Bulletin was devoted to these achievements. An exhibit in Baker's Main Hall featured publications listed in this issue. One of his most significant achievements was obtaining a grant from the Council on Library Resources to initiate a program of reproducing on microfilm many of the rare volumes in the Library's collections in order to make them available to a wider audience. The books and journals were filmed using equipment provided by Xerox University Microfilms located on the lower level in Baker. Publications included The Papers of Eleazar Wheelock, the Mount Washington newspaper Among the Clouds, and The Papers of Augustus Saint–Gaudens.
On a broader scale, Mr. Lathem proposed to the Trustees “the establishment of a national award ‘to honor achievement in creating reference works outstanding in both quality and significance.'” The Trustees authorized this award in 1973, two hundred years after the appointment of Dartmouth's first Librarian. The bronze medal, designed by Rudolph Ruzicka, has since 1974 been awarded annually by the American Library Association through its Reference and Adult Services Division.
Through his association with Special Collections and his long–standing interest in College history, Mr. Lathem provided invaluable assistance to the various administrative offices on campus preparing for the ceremonies in honor of the College's bicentennial, to be celebrated in the summer of 1969. In recognition of his efforts, at the bicentennial celebration, Gerald Humphrey Legge, the ninth Earl of Dartmouth, presented to the College the Lord and Lady Dartmouth Cup. This sterling–silver vessel, made in 1848, has since 1982 been borne by Mr. Lathem, as College Usher, at ceremonial occasions such as inaugurations of College presidents, convocation, and commencement.
The following fall, at the bicentennial anniversary meeting of the trustees, Mr. Lathem announced the acquisition of a special volume:
The book's title is The Tenth Muse Lately Sprung Up in America, a collection of Anne Bradstreet's poetry recognized as representing the very beginnings of American literature—the earliest volume of this country's native belles–lettres.
Mr. President, may I place in your hands, as a gift from the Friends of the Dartmouth Library, the College Library's
This milestone volume represented nearly a doubling of the size of the book collection in a little over twenty years. In 1970, the Library issued a “'keepsake that incorporated The Tenth Muse in ultramicrofiche—thus achieving a complete reproduction of this ‘mid–seventeenth century book, reprinted in late–twentieth century format.’”
Hanover and the College had probably never been quite so isolated from the larger world as the folklore maintains, but there is no question that the modern communications of the 1970s brought social trends and movements to the campus with greater speed, and correspondingly greater impact, than previously. The most significant of these were the student protest movements of the late 1960s and early 1970s. Opposition to the war in Vietnam and the presence of ROTC units on campus were the catalysts for major campus disruption. In 1969, the College's main administration building, Parkhurst Hall, was occupied by student (and some faculty and staff) protesters, but a greater disturbance occurred in the following year. Following the shooting deaths of four Kent State University protesters in late April 1970, demonstrations erupted on campuses all over the country. At Dartmouth, a student strike was organized, although some campus cynics said that the absence of students in Monday's classes had more to do with recuperation from overindulgence during the immediately preceding Green Key weekend than to sympathy with the protesters' views. Dartmouth was fortunate in
The disruptions of 1969 and 1970 were barely receding from memory when another historic era in the College began. In the fall of 1972, President John Kemeny stepped up to the lectern to begin his convocation address. The title and first words of Dartmouth's alma mater, “Men of Dartmouth,” traditionally were invoked as the opening of this speech. Kemeny took a deep breath and began, “Men—and women—of Dartmouth,” and the hall erupted in sustained cheering and applause. Thus began Dartmouth's first term as a coeducational institution. This point had not been reached easily or without opposition. Letters in the Dartmouth Alumni Magazine and other sources expressed a range of opinion that not only rivaled but surpassed the impassioned, and often vitriolic, debate over the Orozco murals. The effects on the Library were felt gradually and subtly, in various ways. The College developed programs (and later, a major) in women's studies, and as academic publishing on women's issues in all subject disciplines increased, the Library's collections reflected these interests.
One change in Library policy was a response to a problem that had appeared in libraries across the country. In the mid–1970s, the Library declared that circulation records were to be confidential. In some communities across the country, pressure groups were trying to find out which patrons, primarily in public libraries, were reading “subversive” or other controversial literature. At Dartmouth, the reasons for the policy were perhaps not publicized so effectively as they might have been; some people were merely annoyed that if they wanted a book that was in circulation, they had to wait for the staff to recall it; they couldn't harass the borrower, since the desk attendant was not supposed to divulge the name of the professor or the student down the hall who had the book. At Dartmouth, as well as at academic and public libraries across the country, book theft was becoming a significant problem. In 1975, a turnstile
In June 1978, the College celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of the opening of Baker Library. On a lovely early–summer afternoon, a reception for the staff was held on the Baker lawn. This reception had been preceded by brief exercises held in Baker's Main Hall, attended by Librarian Emeritus Morin, President Kemeny, and two former staff members who had worked at Baker in 1928. One of the latter was Ellen Adams, who had overseen the move from Wilson to Baker and later became Associate Librarian; the other was Mrs. John Sloan Dickey, the widow of the former President of the College. As Christina M. Gillespie, Mrs. Dickey was on the Library staff in 1928, and circulated the first book from Baker's stacks. On the twenty–ninth, a banquet was held in the Tower Room, featuring speeches, a slide show, and congratulatory messages from the Earl of Dartmouth, the Librarian of Congress, and George F. Baker III. On the following day, a convocation was held in the 1902 Room, featuring speakers on the topic “American Libraries as Centers of Scholarship,” the proceedings of which were later published.
The anniversary celebration also marked another transition in the Library's history. Mr. Lathem, who had been named Dean of Libraries in 1973, had recently announced his impending retirement. The decade of his tenure was one of many varied accomplishments, including Dartmouth's reinstatement in the Association of Research Libraries, of which he served as vice–president and president. His interest in both preservation and technology were starting points for developments that were to come in the years ahead. As the Bezaleel Woodward Fellow, he has continued to serve both the College and the Library.
Long before its fiftieth anniversary, Baker Library was established, as the planners had hoped, as the central focal point of the campus. It was literally as well as figuratively at the heart of the College. Its tower, 200 feet tall, with clock and weathervane, appeared everywhere, from elegant prints to coffee mugs. Several times a year, the tower is opened for tours; the visitor gets a view of the campus impossible
Finding a suitable successor to Edward Lathem proved difficult. Virginia Whitney, of Rutgers University, filled in as Acting Librarian while the lengthy search proceeded. In 1979, Margaret Otto, Associate Director of the Institute Libraries at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, was selected as the sixteenth Librarian of the College following in the succession from Bezaleel Woodward. Perhaps sometime far in the future it will no longer be necessary to describe any one woman's accomplishment as a “first” of anything, but it is significant that Miss Otto was the Dartmouth Library's first woman director. Dartmouth's transformation into a coeducational institution had not been easy; before that historic turning point, there were few women faculty members. As the Library grew after the opening of Wilson and Baker, there were many more women on the staff, and a few reached high positions in the Library administration. With Miss Otto's appointment, the Library had come a long way from the days when a “male librarian” was specifically asked for to fill a Reference Department position.
The two decades following Miss Otto's appointment form a crucial link between the year that celebrated Baker's fiftieth anniversary and the opening of the new Berry Library, the Dartmouth Library's dramatic excursion into the twenty–first century. The future of the Library system was an integral part of the College's long–range studies of future needs. The College's massive project, Planning for the Year 2000, necessarily included a library component, and numerous studies conducted by the Library continued the examinations of facilities and resources begun with the Trustees Planning Committee reports of the 1960s.
The Library's Internal Review Committee prepared a lengthy “Provost's Area Review” in December 1992. The Executive Summary outlines the purpose and scope of the review:
Continuity and change are the central themes of this report. Although the Library has a long history and a stable set of guiding principles, it continually evolves to accommodate new materials and methods to achieve its goals. Thus the Library's management is . . . constantly reexamining its operations in light of changing conditions. The Library's chief strengths are the depth of its collections, the expertise of its staff, and the provision of a very high level of service to Library users.
The summary notes that a chief weakness is the ongoing difficulty “of securing sufficient resources to house staff and collections adequately.” Following the Executive Summary is a “Mission Statement for the Library":
The Dartmouth College Library is a service organization whose mission is to meet the academic, research, and programmatic information needs of the diverse user groups which comprise the Dartmouth College community. The Library further serves a national and international clientele through network and contractual shared–resource programs. . . .
The overarching goal of the Library is to provide, in the context of an environment dedicated to scholarship, teaching and research, access to the knowledge resources required by each of its diverse user communities . . . Achieving that goal necessitates that the Library maintain both a historical and a forward–looking perspective on its mission: it must preserve and maintain the rich heritage contained in its collections for future generations of Dartmouth scholars while, simultaneously, it must plan to integrate emerging technology that will continue to transform the educational and informational environment.
The report again addressed the issue that had so vexed Librarian Morin and the 1960s Trustees Planning Committee:
The task of selecting a peer group is a difficult one—a direct reflection of the fact that it is “different at Dartmouth.” The Library simultaneously must serve the needs of an undergraduate college, the professional schools in Medicine, Business, and Engineering, as well as a smattering of graduate programs in the sciences and social sciences. Most other institutions offering this variety of programs are both larger and more complex. Though smaller, Dartmouth aims to attract the best talent for its faculty and student bodies. As a result, it is consistently rated as an outstanding educational institution in various published rankings.
The review also makes note of the increased demands on the staff, especially in the area of trying to keep up with the technological changes of the 1970s and 1980s that were affecting libraries across the country, but more drastically in academic (and especially large research) libraries. Staff, especially reference librarians in all of the campus libraries, had to be able to help Library users make the best use of new research materials. New technologies affected technical departments as well, and public–service and technical–service staff found their work more closely related.
Catalog records in the Online College Library Center (OCLC) database made it possible to consider the feasibility of producing an online catalog to replace the card catalog, which was rapidly outgrowing available space and was becoming ever more cumbersome to use. In 1979, Dartmouth launched an experimental Online Catalog. In the same year, the Dartmouth library became a member of the Research Libraries Group (RLG) and began using its database, the Research Libraries Information Network (RLIN), for cataloging. The combined OCLC and RLIN files made it possible to improve the online catalog. In the 1980s, some campus libraries closed their card catalogs, and by 1991, no more cards were added to the catalog in any library, including Baker's, which listed holdings of all libraries in the system. By 1985, various interim lists, such as the microfilm (and later microfiche) periodicals and new orders lists, were also abandoned.
As more and more research tools were issued in machine–readable form, it became feasible to integrate these sources with the Online Catalog; the combined file was known as the Dartmouth College Library Online System (DCLOS). From 1988 to 1991, the Library and Computing Services created and released the Dartmouth College Information System (DCIS), adding many more files and improving access. As the Internet evolved and expanded, DCIS enabled its users to access not only Dartmouth databases like the Online Catalog but also a multitude of sources mounted by other institutions. Many of these files were produced by commercial vendors and required subscription fees and complicated licensing agreements. Some specialized electronic sources, for example in business, medicine, or the physical sciences, could be licensed for use in the Library only and could not be mounted on DCIS. A cooperative agreement with Middlebury College allowed both institutions to access a shared subscription to the online version of the MLA International Bibliography, an important reference source in languages and literature.
The proliferation of sources and varied routes of access are a newer manifestation of a problem that has challenged librarians since the late nineteenth century: How can we help students find the information they need? Marvin Bisbee worked closely with small groups of students when the Library was housed in Wilson Hall. As the student
Both the Map Room and the Government Documents Section have felt the impact of new technologies. Sophisticated computerized mapping methods required the Map Room staff to acquire, and learn how to use, complicated electronic programs. For a number of years, the U.S. Government had been increasingly issuing its publications in microfiche, and recently has vastly broadened its program of electronic publication. Many of its statistical publications, especially those relating to the Census, are now issued only on computer disks. In 1984, the Dartmouth Library celebrated the centennial of its selection as a selective depository for U.S. Government publications with lectures, exhibits, and a reception in Rockefeller.
Many annual departmental reports in the 1980s and 1990s made eloquent statements of the need for new staff, but few librarians were added to the staff in this period.
The need was greatest in the affiliated libraries: Feldberg (Business and Engineering), Dana (Biomedical), and Kresge (Physical Sciences). Librarians with responsibilities in collection development and reference were hired for these libraries. Academic departments still usually designate Library liaisons, but in accordance with the recommendations of the Trustees Planning Committee of the 1960s, librarians, rather than the faculty, have assumed nearly complete responsibility for building the collections. In Baker, in the early 1980s the librarians in the Selection Office and Reference Department were gradually merged into one department, a step that was being taken by many academic libraries at the time. Today most reference and collection–development librarians at Dartmouth have advanced degrees in a particular subject as well as library degrees. They are responsible for building the collection in their subject specialty and serve as both general and specialized reference librarians.
Librarians in several departments had for many years felt the need for staff trained in preservation and conservation of library materials. This was a particular interest of Mr. Lathem and other Special Collections librarians. In 1994, the Dartmouth Library
Most of the annual reports from Library departments housed in Baker mention the need for more space, even more than the desire for more staff. The problem was not unique to Dartmouth; many other academic libraries also were running out of space. Some of these libraries—notably Yale, Cornell, Michigan, and Princeton—had recently built storage facilities for lesser–used materials located at some distance from the on–campus libraries. Because of the prevailing high cost of construction and limited space for expansion, the Library made the decision to construct a similar building. After many years of planning, beginning with the appointment of a Storage Library Committee charged with deciding how to select materials for storage and devising the most efficient way Library patrons could access the materials, the Storage Library was opened in 1981.
Nowhere was the need more evident than in Special Collections. In the mid–1980s, the department had added the Williams Watson Theatre Collection and the College's photographic records to its holdings. The Treasure Room was a beautiful and inspiring place for reading materials delivered from the stack areas, but the stacks themselves were cramped and crowded, and the staff working areas were uncomfortable and inefficient. One of the recommendations of the 1966 Libraries Study Council report specified a separate building for Special Collections, and for many years various College committees had been debating the future of Webster Hall; it is not hard to see how two and two were put together into the idea that Webster could be the new home of Special Collections. Naturally, there was some argument against the idea; even though Webster's commodious auditorium had rarely been used since the opening of the Hopkins Center, for some occasions it was the only feasible venue. Students did treasure these events, which included ceremonial showings of the movie Winter Carnival and a benefit concert by Rudolf Serkin. Planning, including cost estimates and proposed designs, proceeded while funds were being sought. The final design, by the architectural firm of Venturi, Scott Brown and Associates, was completed in 1993. In 1997, primarily through the donation of funds by Bruce, Class of 1978, and Diana Rauner, construction was begun. The turn–of–the–century Webster Hall was completely renovated into a modern facility providing protection for rare and valuable material, comfortable study space, and seminar rooms adequately equipped for teaching in the twenty–first century. The Ticknor Room was moved from Baker into the
In the 1920s the Trustees, Faculty, and Librarian had dared to plan a library for “the future” without any assurance that they would ever have the financial resources to put their plans into action. The Baker and Sanborn gifts had made Baker Library possible. On November 5, 1992, President James O. Freedman announced at a press conference, held in the Wren Room in Sanborn House, a gift of $30 million to the College that would allow the Library to make its own vision of the future—a facility appropriate for the twenty–first century— a reality. Mr. Freedman identified John W. Berry, Class of 1944, as “the single most generous and magnificent donor in Dartmouth's history.”
Mr. Berry will contribute $25 million of the $30 million. His son, George Berry, will contribute $1 million. The Loren M. Berry Foundation—which was established by Mr. John Berry's father—will contribute $1 million. And George F. Baker III—the great–grandson of the original Mr. Baker who donated Baker Library—is making a contribution of $3 million.
The new Library, to combine the best of traditional collections and service with the unlimited advantages of present and future technology, was to be constructed on the north side of Baker and was conceived as a “companion” to Baker, which would be renovated. George Berry, Class of 1966, emphasized the importance of Dartmouth to the nation; John Berry looked forward to a “revitalized Baker,” while Mr. Baker acknowledged the technology that would enhance “the effectiveness of the written word.” Miss Otto, Librarian of the College, was also present in the Wren Room. For many years she had been concerned that the present Library space was inadequate for users of traditional collections and that it was increasingly difficult to make the technical changes necessary to support the “computer–based technology so essential to the modern library.” President Freedman envisioned the Berry Library as the “College's core resource for intellectual growth” and would provide
unparalleled accessibility to information by students, faculty and others involved in scholarship. This library may well be the model for college libraries that will be constructed during the 21st century.
President Freedman then announced that the architects chosen were Robert Venturi of Venturi, Scott Brown and Associates, in collaboration with Geoffrey Freeman of Shepley Bulfinch Richardson and Abbott.
On the following evening, a dinner–dance was held in Baker's main corridor. John Rosenwald, Class of 1956, the chairman of the recently–opened Will to Excel campaign, probably did not realize that the corridor had once been the venue for an impromptu demonstration of tap–dancing by some talented staff members. He noted that it was perfect for a formal dance, and that it “should be open every Friday and Saturday night for dancing.” He paid tribute not only to the three major donors for their commitment to education—John Berry had in 1978 endowed the Loren Berry Professorship in Economics, in honor of his father, and later a sports center—but also to Miss Otto for her work in integrating new technology into such a traditional setting. John Berry recalled being inspired by his “first glimpse” of the Baker tower, and President Freedman, well known for an abiding love for great literature and passion for book collecting, spoke of Baker as the “jewel in Dartmouth's crown.”
It was a memorable celebration, but once it was over, the hard work began in earnest. The Task Force on the Library of the 21st Century was set up in 1993, under the
The concluding statement of the report stated that the renovation and construction projects should be a balance of the old and the new; the whole should “be greater than the original parts.” 
The Library Building Committee and, subsequently, a series of working groups, were established soon thereafter. The Building Committee was charged with turning the “guiding concepts” of the Report of the Task Force into a “specific plan.” The Committee's Berry/Baker Planning Update envisioned the combined libraries as an information services “hub.” It again emphasized that the new facility must “incorporate great flexibility in its program design.” Functions of the Kiewit Computation Center were to be relocated to the new library; the Kiewit building was to be torn down. The Library building was to feature climate control, fixed and moveable compact shelving, and more stack space for the Sherman Art Library. There was to be “significantly improved staff work space.” The Committee recognized that even such a large building as the projected Berry Library could not answer all the needs expressed by previous planning committees. There was to be no emeritus faculty center, film library and projection facility, or a language resource center.
The working groups provided formats through which the staffs of the Library and Computing Services could meet and engage in joint planning. A close relationship had already existed between Computing Services and the Library's Systems Department; such cooperation had been necessary to mount the ever–increasing numbers of databases on DCIS. All departments of the Library and Computing Services were
When Webster Hall was renovated to accommodate the Rauner Special Collections Library, it had been for all intents and purposes gutted and rebuilt inside from scratch, but the exterior remained very much the same. This was not the case with the Berry Library, which was to be a completely new building, necessarily of substantial size. As various design elements became known to the public, there was some controversy over the design—it looked “industrial,” it was simply just too big—but the plans had equally vociferous supporters, and in mid–November 1997, the Trustees reaffirmed the Berry plans. In May 1998, John Berry's wife, Marilynn, in formal dress, operated a backhoe outside the north face of Baker—the traditional first shovelful at the official groundbreaking ceremony. It was a bittersweet moment; John Berry was too ill to attend the ceremony, and he died later that month.
Construction of Berry Library, Phase I of the Baker/Berry project, continued for the next two years. Students, faculty, and staff learned to negotiate their way through and around the work areas. Library departments moved from one temporary location to another as work progressed. It would be some time before the projected “Main Street"—a wide, inviting corridor between the old building and the new, ending in a sweeping staircase leading to the café—would be completed. The temporary passage between Baker and Berry was narrow and crowded. Library users and construction workers passed each other back and forth in an intricate dance, and signs labeling the area variously “Inferno,” “Purgatorio,” and “Paradisio” appeared on the walls. The Baker/Berry Change Project, a joint Library and Computing Services working group, put up a Web site and issued periodic updates on the progress of the construction, alerting staff when there might be special problems of noise or dust.
Phase I of Berry Library opened in September 2000, although some construction was still continuing. The Grand Staircase was completed, and Main Street opened in 2002 as Phase II, the renovation of Baker, neared completion. A brochure entitled “The Baker/Berry Library Tour” describes the components and services of the combined buildings. Services at Baker are continuing as renovation progresses. Baker contains book stacks and administrative and processing offices for the Library system. The Reserve Corridor, with the Orozco murals, remains on the lower level. The Ossen Multimedia Reserve Room is adjacent to the Reserve Desk. An Information Desk in the center of Baker's Main Hall faces south toward the Green. A large number of computers available for public use are temporarily located in the lower–level space formerly occupied by the Map Room. The Reference Room will eventually house the Current Periodicals Room. Current newspapers will be available in the adjacent News Center. The East Asian Room, given by the Starr Foundation, will occupy Baker's mezzanine level.
Main Street leads from Baker toward Level 1 of Berry. The Reference Department (recently renamed Research and Instruction Services), Interlibrary Loan and Document Delivery, and the North Information Desk are located on this level. The Braverman Circulation Center was relocated from Baker to its new location at a central point on Main Street. The Kiewit Academic Computing Suite, also located on this level, is home to the Faculty Academic Computing Center, designed to help faculty in integrating new technology into their teaching strategies.
The Evans Clerestory Study Area, with computer–equipped study carrels, and the Evans Map Room are located on Level 2. This level also houses the Jones Media Center, the expanded and renamed successor to the Jones Microtext Center. The Media Center houses publications in various microformats, with reader/printers; there are also two multimedia viewing rooms and nineteen multimedia carrels supporting
The Callander Reading Room is a large, comfortable Reading Room on Berry Level 3. The connecting bridge to Baker stacks makes this an ideal place to utilize the entire Bakery–Berry print collection. Level 3 also contains book stacks, lockers and group study rooms for students, and the Whitcomb Room, a seminar room. More book stacks, group study rooms, and the Fritz Hier 1944 Alcove are located on Berry's Level 4, The 1944 Place, an inviting and comfortable study area donated by John W. Berry's Class of 1944.
The Ground Level houses the popular Novack Café. This area, with its public computer terminals and computer–equipped Nathanson, Beach, and Class of 1969 group study rooms, is open twenty–four hours a day. The food–service counter is open from the morning through the early afternoon, and, except for the summer term, in the evenings; vending machines provide sustenance when the counter is closed. The Library's Acquisitions, Preservation, and Shipping and Receiving Departments have offices on this level. The Donor Wall, at the north entrance to Berry, pays tribute to all those who have contributed so generously to the Berry Library. The large Instructional Center on the ground level, at the bottom of the staircase, is named for George and Roberta Berry. The Lower Level, one floor below, comprises book stacks and the Print Output Window, where students may pick up printouts of documents produced on their computers anywhere on campus; Computing Services' machine room; and offices for Computing and Technical Services support staff.
It is fitting to conclude this brief exploration of the Dartmouth Library's history with the opening of Berry. Margaret Otto ‘s tenure encompassed the crucial planning and development efforts that made the new Library possible. She retired near the end of 2000, having also overseen the construction of the Storage Library, Rauner Special Collections Library, and the Matthews–Fuller Health Sciences Library, the renovation of the Feldberg and Paddock Music Libraries, the establishment of Preservation Services, the growth of the collection to over two million volumes, and greatly improved access to all of the Library's multifaceted holdings.
She was succeeded by Richard E. Lucier, seventeenth Librarian of the College in the Woodward Succession. He received his library degree from Rutgers University's Graduate School of Information Science. Before coming to Dartmouth in early 2001, he was University Librarian for the University's California Digital Library and Associate
Advance scholarship and research, support excellence and innovation in teaching, foster learning and professional growth, and promote the health of the public through the comprehensive management of scholarly content.
With themes of continuity, dynamic innovation, and the “courage to be new,” his goals emphasize collaborative leadership in “selecting, designing, building, managing, providing access to, and preserving high–quality unique collections and content in all media,”; in strengthening staff expertise and excellence, developing a digital library, and in disseminating information about the Library's role and resources to the public. A prototype of the Digital Library will be released to the public in November 2002.
Over the years the College has supported excellent library collections and services, and has risen to the challenge when changing methods of instruction and of
Most of the primary sources consulted for this history are available in the Rauner Special Collections Library, Dartmouth College Library. Manuscript collections include: Trustees' Records (Manuscript DA–1); Records of the Trustees' Committee on the Library (DA–516); Records of the Trustees' Special Committee on the Library, 1925–1926 (DA–523); Records of the [Faculty] Committee on the Library (DA–271); Records of the Faculty Committee on the New Library (DA–273); Records of the Trustees' Committee on Physical Development of the Plant (DA–511); Papers of the Provost (DA–7); Society of Social Friends Records, 1783–1904 (DO–2); United Fraternity Records, 1788–1874 (DO–4); Dartmouth College Library Bulletin Records (DL–13); Alexander K. Laing Papers (ML–53); Richard Wedge Morin Papers (ML–70); Library Administration Records (DL–4); Dartmouth College Library Staff Association Records (DL–8); and Daniel Oliver Associates Records (DO–67). College directories and Library statistical reports are also available in Rauner. Annual reports of various Library departments are housed either in Rauner or Records Management, depending upon date. Each of the nineteenth–century annual reports, as cited in footnotes, is a separate manuscript.
Graham, Robert B. The Dartmouth Story: a Narrative History of the College Buildings, People, and Legends. Hanover: Dartmouth Bookstore, 1990.
Hill, Ralph Nading. The College on the Hill: a Dartmouth Chronicle. Hanover: Dartmouth Publications, 1964.
Kemeny, Jean. It's Different at Dartmouth: a Memoir. Brattleboro,Vermont: The Stephen Greene Press, 1979.
Smith, Baxter Perry. The History of Dartmouth College. Boston and Cambridge: Houghton, Osgood and Company; The Riverside Press, 1878.
Carleton, W. N. Chattin. “College Libraries in the Mid–Nineteenth Century.” Library Journal 32 (1907):479–486.
Edelman, Hendrik, and G. Marvin Tatum Jr. “The Development of Collections in American Libraries.” College and Research Libraries 37 (1976): 222–245.
Hamlin, Arthur T. The University Library in the United States: Its Origins and Development. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1981.
Holley, Edward. “Academic Libraries in 1876.” College and Research Libraries 37 (1976): 15–47.
Kraus, J. W. “Book Collections of Early American College Libraries.” Library Quarterly 43 (1973): 142–159.
Shores, Louis. Origins of the American College Library, 1638–1800. Contribution to Education Published under the Direction of George Peabody College for Teachers, 134. Reprinted in 1972 by Gregg Press, Boston.
Thompson, Lawrence. “The Historical Background of Departmental and Collegiate Libraries.” Library Quarterly 12 (January 1942): 49–74.
Zubatsky, David S. The History of American Colleges and Their Libraries in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries: a Bibliographical Essay. University of Illinois Graduate School of Library Science Occasional Papers, no. 140 (1979).
Cronenwett, Philip N. “Dartmouth College Library.” In International Dictionary of Library Histories, ed. David H. Stam. Chicago: Fitzroy Dearborn, 2001, 1: 287–289.
Gliddon, Dorothy Frederick. “A Survey of the Dartmouth College Library.” Thesis (M.S.), Columbia University. New York: 1949.
Morin, Richard W. “Dartmouth College Libraries.” In Encyclopedia of Library and Information Science. New York: Marcel Dekker, 1968—, 6:428–434.
Brown, Francis. A Dartmouth Reader. Edited by Francis Brown. Hanover: Dartmouth Publications, 1969.
Foster, Herbert Darling. “Webster and Choate in College: Dartmouth under the Curriculum of 1796–1819.” Dartmouth Alumni Magazine (April 1927): 509–519; (May 1927): 605–616.
Miraculously Builded in Our Hearts: a Dartmouth Reader. Edited by Edward Connery Lathem and David M. Shribman. Hanover: Dartmouth College, Distributed by University Press of New England, 1999.
Duff, Kathleen P. “The Unification of 1874: the Joining of the Dartmouth College Library with the Collections of the Social Friends and the United Fraternity.” [Honors thesis, Dartmouth College] Hanover: 2001.
Friendly, Henry J. “The Dartmouth College Case and the Public–Private Penumbra.” Texas Quarterly 12:2 (1969): 1–41.
Harding, Thomas Spencer. College Literary Societies: Their Contribution to Higher Education in the United States, 1815–1876. New York: Pageant Press International, 1971.
Johnson, Eldon L. “The Dartmouth College Case: the Neglected Educational Meaning.” Journal of the Early Republic 3 (Spring 1983): 45–67.
King, Allen L. “The Largest Class in College Physics.” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin n.s. 39:2 (April 1999): 92–96.
Levenson, Sol. “Orozco and Anglo–America.” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin n.s. 33:2 (April 1992): 55–63.
Nef, Evelyn Stefansson. “Stefansson Collection, Dartmouth College Library.” Special Libraries Association. Geography and Map Division. Bulletin no. 56 (1964): 17–21.
Novak, Steven J. “The College in the Dartmouth College Case: a Reinterpretation.” The New England Quarterly 47:4 (December 1974): 550–563.
Stefansson, Evelyn. “A Famed Collection and How It Grew.” From Hanover 10 (Winter 1960): 13–15.
Page numbers in italics indicate illustrations. Numbers preceded by n refer to footnotes.
Adams, Ebenezer, 9
Aiken, Charles Augustus, 18
American Antiquarian Society, 9
"American Libraries as Centers of Scholarship," convocation, 75
Amherst College Library fire, 23
Archives. See Dartmouth College Library: Archives
Baker, Fisher Ames, 41
Baker, Fisher Ames, Endowment Fund, 41
Baker/Berry Change Project, 88
Baker Bulletin, 63
Baker Library: alcoves, 43;, bells 43; Circulation Desk, 43; Class of 1902 Room, 43; construction. , 38, 39, 42; dedication, 43; description, 43-45; fiftieth anniversary, 75; as humanities and social sciences library, 69; mezzanine, 90 ; planning, 34-36, 38-41; Reference Room, 43; renovation, 83, 88; Reserve Room, 43; stack expansion, 58, 63; stacks, 57 ; tenth-year assessment, 53-54; tower, 39 , 42 , 43, 75-76, 76 ; Tower Room, 44-45, 70; weathervane, 43, 75. See also Berry Library; Dartmouth College Library; names of individual associated libraries
Barstow, Zedekiah, 14
Bartlett Hall, 68
Beach group study room, 89
Berry, Loren M., Foundation, 83
Berry Loren M., Professorship in Economics, 84
Berry, Marilynn, 87
Berry, Roberta, 89
Cogswell, William, 13
Cold Regions Research and Engineering Laboratory, 65
confidentiality, of library records, 74
conservation of library materials, 81-82
Cook, John Brown, 68
Cook Library, 68
Council on Library Resources, 72
Crosby Alpheus, 13
Culver Hall, 47
Current Periodicals Room, 88
Cutter, Charles Ammi, 30
Daniel Oliver Associates, 50
Dartmouth, The (student newspaper), index prepared, 50
Dartmouth Alumni Council, 51
Dartmouth authors, book display, 71-72
Dartmouth College: Alumni Association, 17, 19; Art Department, 47, 49; bicentennial, 70, 73; centennial, 19; curriculum, 4, 35-36, 59-60, 61, 63; chapel, 6, 7, 24, 25; coeducation, 74, 77; college/university issue, 8, 35, 38, 54, 56, 61, 66, 69, 78; English Department, 47; faculty, 30, 31, 48; founding, 1-2; growth, 19, 30, 36, 47-48; gymnasium, 24, 36, 38; history (published), 19, 31; Mathematics Department, 68; Music Department, 68; Northern Studies program, 65; Physics Department, 34; Trustees (University conflict), 6-8, 11, 15, 19, 26; Dartmouth College Case, 6-8, 11, 15, 19, 26
Dartmouth College Library: accessions lists, 24; Acquisitions Department, 89; administration, 62, 66; Alumni Alcove, 19, 23, 31; annual reports desired, 15; Archives, 19, 31, 48, 65; Bibliography department, 61, 69; bindery, 50-51; catalogs, 3, 5, 11, 15-16, 28, 30; centralized administration, 66-69; circulation, 23, 27; clientele, 70; collection growth, 61, 64, 73, 83; comparisons with other libraries, 15, 26, 36, 38, 48, 55, 69, 78; Dartmouth author display, 71-72; deficiencies in the collections, 19; during Depression, 48, 50, 58; Education Office, 61; first, [viii], 2-3, 44; hours, 5, 11, 22; location, 2, 3, 5; management problems, nineteenth century, 14-15; Manuscripts Division, 65; maps, 48, 80, 88; mathematics collection, 68; millionth volume, 73; mission statements, 78, 90; music collections, 68; newspaper holdings, 50, 60; Online Catalog, 79; Preservation Services, 82, 89; publications, 30; Rare Books Department, 65; reclassification, 30, 34, 70, 71; Reserve Room, 61; restrictions on use, 16-17; rules, 3, 4-5, 11, 16; science collections, 68; security, 16, 74-75; selection officers, 35, 70, 71, 81; Shipping and Receiving, 89; skiing collection, 52; and society libraries, 20-21, 22, 23, 31, 32; space problems, 18, 22, 24, 36, 68, 82; Special Collections, 31, 34, 44, 65, 82-83; staff, 25 , 44 , 52, 61-64, 81, 86 , 87 ; Storage Library, 82, 89; Systems Department, 87; Technical Services, 89; Treasure Room, 44, , 60, 60-61, 82; two-millionth acquisition, 83; in World War I, 34-35; in World War II, 57-59; undergraduate collection, proposed, 56-57; during University conflict, 6-8, 9, 15
Dartmouth College Library Online System, 79
Dartmouth Community for Divestment, 76
Dartmouth Cup, 73
Dartmouth Row, 
Dartmouth University, 6-8
Dean, James, 7
Dickey, John Sloan (Mrs.), 75
Digital Library, 90
Document Delivery, in Berry, 88
Donor Wall, Berry, 89
dormitory libraries, 63
East Asian Room, 88
Eisenhower, Dwight David, 64-65
Eliot, Charles William, 29
Encyclopedia Arctica, 65
Evans Clerestory Study Area, 88
Evans Map Room, 88
Faculty. See Dartmouth College: faculty
Faculty Academic Computing Center, 88
Fairbanks, Rev. Henry, 25
Fairchild Physical Sciences Center, 68
Farrar, Timothy, 11
Fishbein Seminar Room, 89
Fletcher, Samuel, 14
Fraters. See United Fraternity
Freeman, Geoffrey, 84
freshman seminars, 80
Friends of the Dartmouth Library, 51-52
George III, 2
Gifford,Rev. Dr. A., 2
Gillespie, Christina M. (Mrs. John Sloan Dickey), 75
Goodrich, Chauncey A., 8
Great Awakening, 1-2
guest borrowers, 70
Handbook of the Libraries, 80
Hier, Fritz, 1944 Alcove, 89
high-school students, as Library users, 70
Hinckley, Oramel S., 11
Hough, Charles M., 44
Houghs Room, 44
Hubbard, Oliver Payson, 15-18
information desks, 88
instruction (in library use). See Library instruction
Interlibrary Loan, in Berry, 88
Internal Review Committee, 78-79
Ivy League, 69
Jelinek, Marianne, 51
Johnson, Rev. Diodate, 2
Jones, Berkeley Fairfax, Memorial Fund, 63
Jones Media Center, 88-89
Jones Microtext Center, 88
Kiewit Academic Computing Suite, 88
Kiewit Computation Center, 85
Kinder, Louis H., 50
Larsen, Jens Fredrick, 41
Legge, Gerald Humphrey, ninth Earl of Dartmouth, 73
Librarian of Congress, 75
Library Council, 63
library schools, 24
Linton, Howard, 58
Little, Clarence B., 43
Logsdon, Richard, 69
Lord, Nathan, 16-17
Lucier, Richard E., 89-90
Lyon, Charles J., 65
McCarthy, Sen. Joseph, 64
McNutt Hall, 68
"Main Street," Berry, 88
Manley Room, 80
Marsh, Charles, 14
Marshall, John, 8
Matthews-Fuller Health Sciences Library, 89
Meadows, Christian: Dartmouth Row engraving, 
More, Joshua. See Moor, Joshua
Morrison, Hugh, 54
Murdough Center, 68
Nathanson group study room, 89
National Honor Award for Excellence in Architecture (Rauner Library), 83
National Youth Administration, 50
Naval Reserve Officers Indoctrination School, 58
Navy College Training Program. See V-12 Program
Nef, Evelyn Stefansson, 64
News Center, 88
Novack Cafe, 89
Old Pine, 43
Oliver, Daniel, 50
Online Catalog, 79
Orcutt, Stanley, 43
Ossen Multimedia Reserve Room, 88
Palaeopitus (student society), 38-39
Parker family, 15
Parkhurst, Lewis, 38
preservation. See conservation (library materials)
Print Output Window, 89
Provosts Area Review, 78-79
Rauner, Bruce, 82-83
Rauner, Diana, 82-83
Reed, William, 13
Reference Department, in Berry, 88
reference works, Dartmouth Medal, 72
Reid, Charles, 18
Research and instruction Services, in Berry, 88
reserved books system, 23
Richardson, Leon Burr, A Study of the Liberal College, 36
Rollins Chapel, 25
Rosenwald, John, 84
Sanborn, Edwin Webster, 47
Sanborn House, 47
Saunders, Mildred L., 48
science, facilities at Dartmouth, 18
Scott, William C, 85
seminar rooms, Berry, 89
Shattuck, Dr. George C., 15
Shepley Bulfinch Richardson and Abbott, 84
Sine, Edward, Collection of British Illustrated Books, 83
Smith, Nathan, 66
Socials. See Society of Social Friends
Society for the Diffusion of Christian Knowledge among the Poor, 2
Staff Association, Dartmouth College Library, 63
Stair, Gobin, 49
Starr Foundation, 88
Starr Instructional Center, 89
Stefansson, Evelyn, 64
Study rooms, Berry, 89
subject cataloging, 30
Task Force on the Library of the 21st Century, 85
Tauber, Maurice, 69-70
Thayer, Samuel J. F., 25
Thayer, Col. Sylvanus, 18
Thomas, Isaiah, 9
Ticknor, George, 59
Ticknor, George, Fellowship in the Humanities, 59
Tuck Hall, 68
University Press of New England, 71
V-12 Program, 58-59
Vassar College, library, 38
video services, 89
Webster Papers, microfilm edition, 71
West, Herbert Faulkner, 51
Whitcomb Room, 89
White, James T., 52
Whitefield, George, 2
Whitney, Virginia, 77
Williams Watson Theatre Collection, 82
Wolf Room, 89
womens' studies, collections, 74
Yale University, 15
 Frederick Warren Jenkins, “Dartmouth College Library," Granite Monthly 33 (1902), 14; Clarence Watkins Scott, “The Library of Dartmouth College,” Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, Ms. 000805, p. 1.
 Most information in this chapter on the early years of the College is taken from standard histories, especially Frederick Chase, A History of Dartmouth College and the Town of Hanover, New Hampshire, ed. John K. Lord, 2 vols. ( Cambridge: John Wilson and Son, 1891–1913), and Leon Burr Richardson, History of Dartmouth College, 2 vols. (Hanover: Dartmouth College Publications, 1932).
 Atkinson was a diplomat and sportsman, active in New Hampshire provincial affairs, and an original Trustee of the new College; see Sibley's Harvard Graduates 6 (1942): 221–231. Johnson had been a classmate of Woodward's at Yale.
 James Gerould, “The Library of Dartmouth College," 19—, 12; Chase, History, 2:506; Dick Hoefnagel and Virginia L. Close, “The First Librarian for Dartmouth College,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s. 37:1 (November 1996), 44. This article contains many details of the early years of the Library, including expenses for constructing shelves and paying book dealers.
 All information on the Dartmouth College Case in this chapter, unless otherwise cited, is taken from Richard W. Morin, “Will to Resist: The Dartmouth College Case,” originally published in the Dartmouth Alumni Magazine for April 1969 and later issued as a pamphlet.
 There are few records extant of the “University” as such, but one document (Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, Ms. 817611) notes that Carter was the “University Librarian.” Whether or not he did much with this assignment has been lost to history.
 Clyde E. Dankert, “Dartmouth College and Dartmouth University” (1979), 104–108; Genevieve B. Williamson, “When the Students Owned the Library,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s. 2:1 (October 1958), 7–13; and Nathan Crosby, First Half Century of Dartmouth College, (Hanover: J. B. Parker, 1876), 44–46. For some local newspaper coverage, see “Fracas at Dartmouth,” containing excerpts from The Vermont Intelligencer & Bellows Falls Advertiser (1 December 1817).
 Frederick Chase, A History of Dartmouth College and the Town of Hanover, New Hampshire, ed. John K. Lord, 2 vols. ( Cambridge: John Wilson and Son, 1891–1913), 2:509, 510; Clarence Watkins Scott, “The Library of Dartmouth College,” Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, Ms. 000805, p. 9.
 Dartmouth College, Library, The Isaiah Thomas Donation, Library of Dartmouth College. Presented by Isaiah Thomas, esq., A.D. 1819, in his Donation of 470 Volumes (Hanover: 1949). The Adams letter is Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections Ms 819408. The Thomas donation was featured in a 1949 exhibit, mounted by Ray Nash's Graphic Arts class, in Baker's Main Hall.
 Charles Bricket Haddock, “The Way to Read a Book," Charles Haddock Papers, Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, MS–469, folder 11; reprinted in The Dartmouth (September 1874), 235–249.
 Dartmouth College, Society of Social Friends, Library, Catalogue of the Books Belonging to the Social Friends' Library at Dartmouth College, October, 1831 (Hanover: Thomas Mann, printer, 1831); Dartmouth College, United Fraternity, Library, Catalogue of Books in the Library of the United Fraternity (Windsor, Vermont: Chronicle Press, 1835).
 Trustees' Records, 3:112–113 (25 July 1850); 3:116 (29 July 1851). Hubbard was a graduate of Yale, Class of 1828, and had earned the MD degree from the Charleston (South Carolina) Medical College in 1837. Dartmouth awarded him an honorary degree in 1873.
 Chase, History, 2:442–443; Richardson, History, 2:567–568. See also Alan T. Gaylord, “'This Passion for Books': Sanborn and the College in 1850,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s. 34:2 (April 1994), 70–96.
 Dartmouth College, Dedication of Rollins Chapel and Wilson Hall, Dartmouth College, June 24, 1885 (Printed for the College, 1886), 30, 44–45, 56. If Webster was able to find useful material, perhaps the Library was not so deficient in College historical documents as Sanborn had thought. It is also possible that some material was lost between Webster's day and Sanborn's.
 Marvin Davis Bisbee, “A Course in Bibliography in Dartmouth College,” Library Journal 22 (1897), 439–440. An abstract was published in American Library Institute, Papers and Proceedings 1 (1916).
 Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, Mss. 907377 and 908370. Rugg held important positions in the Library for many years; he was “instrumental in including a Treasure Room” in the new Baker Library. (Marcus A. McCorison, “Highly Personal Recollections of Harold Goddard Rugg,” Vermont History News 41:6 (1990), 110.
 Until 1903, the societies still had formal ownership, but not control, of their library collections. To give the Trustees “plenary control over all the books in Wilson Hall,” an act of the state legislature formally dissolved the societies, thus completing the integration of all the Library holdings. See William Jewett Tucker, “To the Members of the Social Friends, United Fraternity and Philotechnic Societies” (1903?).
 At the1909 inauguration of Ernest Fox Nichols as Dartmouth's President, his predecessor, Dr. Tucker, first used the term Wheelock Succession in reference to the line of College Presidents beginning with Eleazar Wheelock. (Robert French Leavens and Arthur Hardy Lord, Dr. Tucker's Dartmouth [Hanover: Dartmouth Publications, 1969], 36.)
 Charles E. Widmayer, Hopkins of Dartmouth: The Story of Ernest Martin Hopkins and His Presidency of Dartmouth College (Hanover: Published by Dartmouth College through The University Press of New England, 1977), 95.
 Lewis M. Parkhurst, “Argument in Favor of New Library,” October 1925, in Dartmouth College, Trustees, Special Committee on the Library, Records, p 1. Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, DA–523.
 Leavens and Lord, Dr. Tucker's Dartmouth, 165–169. Tucker believed that the “advanced scholarship and investigation, with great scholars on its staff” that characterized a university required substantial funds; “'To make Dartmouth a University would involve, at least, the doubling of its endowment, and would change in a very essential degree its aim.'”
 Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, vertical file ‘Library—Tower (Bells, Weathervane, Clock).' The keg of rum comes from Richard Hovey's lines about the early days of the College: “Eleazar was the Faculty, and the whole curriculum/Was five hundred gallons of New England rum.”
 Goodrich, “Dartmouth's New Library,” 191–194. For the Woodward Room, see Dick Hoefnagel and Virginia L. Close, “Charles N. Haskins and the Woodward Room at Baker Library,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s. 39:1 (November 1998), 14–25. The Woodward Room will remain in the renovated Baker Library.
 “Sanborn House,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin 5:2 (May 1932), 7–8; Dartmouth College, Committee on the Library, Records, box 1, report for 1931, p. 1. Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, DA–271.
 Kenneth C. Cramer, “The Dartmouth College Archives,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin 34:2 (April 1994), 97–105; Nathaniel L. Goodrich, “Maps,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin 1:10 (February 1934), 3–5.
 [Harold Goddard Rugg], “Daniel Oliver Associates,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin 2:2 (March 1935), 33–34; Goodrich, “The Year,” 104; Committee on the Library, box 1, October 10, 1941, p. 4.
 An article by George W. Berry, “The Friends of the Library,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s. 41:1 (November 2000), lists, among others, Henry B. Williams, Theatre at Dartmouth, 1769–1914: From Eleazar Wheelock to Walter Wanger (Hanover: Friends of the Dartmouth Library, 1987); Three Lectures: Presented on the Occasion of the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Friends of the Dartmouth Library (Hanover: Friends of the Dartmouth Library, 1988); and Ray Nash and the Graphic Arts Workshop at Dartmouth College (Hanover: Friends of the Dartmouth Library, 1987).
 “R. W. M.,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s. 8:2 (April 1968), 42–43. In a letter to Trustee Thomas Streeter defending the selection of a Librarian without a professional degree, President Dickey expressed a view all too common at the time, that the profession of librarianship did not attract “top–notch men." John Sloan Dickey to Thomas Streeter, 23 March 1950, in Richard Wedge Morin, Papers, file 83. Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, ML–70. The profession had grown rapidly since the late nineteenth century, but like public–school teaching, had become considered a “womens' profession,” with consequent loss of prestige.
 In the late 1960s, several reference staff members attended a meeting, at a library that shall remain nameless, where professionals and non–professionals had been provided with two separate staff lounges—one with considerably more spartan furnishings than the other.
 Philip N. Cronenwett, “The Ceaseless Quest for Knowledge: Stef and His Collection at Dartmouth,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin 39:1 (November 1998), 48–60; Philip N. Cronenwett, “The Encyclopedia Arctica: a Lost Opportunity?,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin 42:1 (November 2001), 40–49.
 Librarian's Statistical Report, 1961–1962, introduction. Although the Trustees used the term and the centralization made Morin “truly the Librarian of the College” ( “R. W. M.,” 43), the title Librarian of the College was not used in College directories until 1968–1969.
 “Medical Library,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin 2:5 (March 1936), 96–98; Charles C. Waddington, “Planning the New Library: the Charles A. Dana Biomedical Library,” Special Libraries 55 (October 1964), 575–578.
 Kurt S. Maier, “Maurice F. Tauber,” in Leaders in American Academic Librarianship: 1925–1975, ed. Wayne A. Wiegand (Pittsburgh: Beta Phi Mu; Chicago: Distributed by American Library Association, 1983), 336–337.
 Librarians giving orientation tours had long observed the uncharacteristically formal appearance of the freshmen; tours were given just before the students were matriculated and introduced to the President. The freshmen showed up in coats and ties, and librarians could be overheard muttering, “We won't see them like that again until Commencement.” Now there were coeds in the tour groups, and tour guides had to be considerate of stunningly–dressed young women tromping up and down library staircases in 1970s high heels.
 Several reports from the head of Circulation at the time indicate some skepticism about the restrictions, suggesting that it was probably legitimate users—students and faculty—who were primarily responsible for lost books.
 The event was well covered in the local press. See, for example, Brad Hills, “Climbing Mt. Baker—Hanover Fashion,” Valley News, 13 June 1966. The College Archivist, Emeritus, recently reminded the author that the first Mickey Mouse cartoon appeared in 1928, the year Baker opened.
 Miss Otto holds a master's degree in Library Science from Simmons College. A recent issue of the Dartmouth College Library Bulletin (n.s., 51:1, November 2000) is devoted to her tenure as Librarian of the College.
 For a brief period around the 1950s, higher–ranking librarians were accorded faculty status. Ellen Adams was the first woman so designated, and it was generally believed she would have attained faculty status much earlier had she been male.
 Nathaniel L. Goodrich to John S. Dickey, 15 January 1947, and Alexander K. Laing to Nathaniel L. Goodrich, 3 February 1947, Provosts' Papers, Dartmouth College Library, Special Collections, DA–7, box 31, folder 16.
 Most of the information on technological developments is detailed in two articles: Ann Y. McHugo, “Collection Services, 1980–2000," in “A Score + One: The Otto Years, 1979–2000,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s. 41:1 (November 2000), 27–39; and Robert J. Brentrup, “The Electronic Information Environment,” in “A Score + One,” 40–44. Unless otherwise cited, other information is available in departmental annual reports for the period.
 Students demonstrated interest in Library matters in other ways. In 1979, the administration posted a suggestion box in the hall outside the west end of the Reserve Corridor. At first, the questions related strictly to Library policies and problems (fines, the vagaries of the heating system), but later became both philosophical and whimsical. The librarians found writing the replies amusing at first, but the task soon began to take up a disproportionate amount of time. Suggestions, of course, are still welcome, but the Vox in the Box is no more. See Francis X. Oscadal, “Why Are There No Blue M & M's?,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s. 25:1 ( November 1989), 51–54.
 John G. Crane, John L. McDill, and Jutta R. Reed–Scott, “The Dartmouth College Storage Library: A New and Different Kind of Library,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s., 22:2 (April 1982), 40–46.
 John G. Kemeny, “A Library for 2000 A.D,” in Management and the Computer of the Future, ed. Martin Greenberger (Cambridge, Mass., and New York, 1962), 134–178, and his “Library of the Future,” Dartmouth College Library Bulletin, n.s. 12:2 (April 1972), 50–60, reprinted in his Man and the Computer: A New Symbiosis (New York: Scribner's, 1972).
Last Updated: 12/21/16