When I arrived in fall of 2014 as a new employee, the department had an exhibit on display featuring miniature books from the 19th and 20th centuries. It was a perfect introduction to the curious, strange, and unexpected variety of materials that I would come to find in Special Collections.
The Library of Congress defines miniature books as works 10 centimeters or less in both height and width, which is a little under 4 inches. The Miniature Book Society maintains a more circumscribed definition of no more than three inches in height, width, or thickness. Within these parameters, American collectors recognize several sub-categories, including macro-mini (3-4), miniature (2-3), micro-mini (1-2), and ultra-micro-mini (less than 1). Often intricately bound and printed, miniature books are considered a testimony to the printers skill.
One of our miniature books, an early 19th century devotional entitled Dew Drops, is about the size of a house key.
According to the American Antiquarian Society, the oldest miniature books were produced on clay tablets in Mesopotamia; scholars and monks from ancient Egypt to medieval Europe produced miniature manuscripts by hand long before the invention of the printing press. The Diurnale Mogantinum, published in 1468 by Johann Guttenbergs assistant Peter Schoffer, is the earliest example of a traditionally printed miniature book. The tiny texts became particularly fashionable in America during the 19th century as a portable and novel way to carry decorative and instructional texts. The most popular books in this time were religious tracts, advertisements, and childrens books.
“Imitacin De Cristo.” This 1964 text, which measures a little under 3.5 inches long, is ornately bound in gilded leather.
Miniature books experienced a new wave of popularity in the 1970s as artists and independent publishers explored new methods for binding, printing, and distributing. Like their full-sized counterparts, modern miniature books are incredibly diverse in construction and purpose, ranging from plain and conventionally bound to elaborately illustrated pop ups, scrolls, and accordions.
Maurice Sendaks Nutshell Library, a collection of children’s stories.
Although Special Collectionsdoes not collect tiny books on the scale of some passionate hobbyists, we have accumulated a limited but fascinating assortment of miniatures over the years. Highlights include an ornithology text published in 1810; several 19th and 20th century childrens books; a collection of Lincoln speeches reprinted in the mid 20th century; curios, art books, and poetry chapbooks by American micro-presses in the 1960s and 1970s; a handful of foreign language texts; and an edition of Five Articles by Chairman Mao Tse-Tung.
A simply but beautifully bound chapbook by master printing James WeilPublished in 1972 by Peking Foreign Languages Press, this edition is bound in red plastic.
So you think archival work is boring and routine, that nothing could be so harmless and mundane as arranging papers and then writing summary descriptions of them? Maybe you think the most frightening thing an archivist encounters in a typical workday is a misfiled folder or a paper cut. Well, let me tell you: a misfiled folder can be a pretty ominous thing, and as for paper cuts, hey, those things can get infected. And if you were to delve deep into the dark, quiet recesses of Special Collections, you might be shocked to find archivists with hands stained crimson (with red rot), their clothing torn (by sharp, rusty paperclips), and their minds shattered by a blinding stench (from decaying film negatives).
If none of these prospects strike you as particularly sinister, then also consider this: Archivists often spend a great part of their workday hanging out with dead people (no, Im not referring to other archivists). In arranging the personal papers of long-deceased individuals, we often come to know them pretty well, not only the bare facts of their lives, but their habits, their successes and failures, and their oddities. Truth be told, dead people can be pretty creepy sometimes, and when it comes to creepy, the Victorians, preoccupied as they were with mortality and the macabre, take the cake. These are the people, after all, who popularized the gothic novel, sances, so-called freak shows, and post-mortem photography. Several of our collections from that time period contain another creepy artifact of Victorian culture: the dreaded lock of hair keepsake.
Now of course a lock of hair seems a fairly innocuous thing and wouldnt normally be associated with creepiness, but when youre thumbing through the century-old account ledgers of a long-defunct livery stable, the lastwell, perhaps near to the lastthing you expect is for a big clump of hair to pop out at you. Thats exactly the shock we recently got, however, when reviewing the Warm Springs, Virginia Ledgers (Ms2014-003), a collection purchased earlier this year.
This long tress, found in the J. W. Hamilton ledgers, is an extreme example of the Victorian penchant for saving the hair of a loved one as a memento.
This long tress, found in the J. W. Hamilton ledgers, is an extreme example of the Victorian penchant for saving the hair of a loved one as a memento.
This long tress, found in the J. W. Hamilton ledgers, is an extreme example of the Victorian penchant for saving the hair of a loved one as a memento.
This long tress, found in the J. W. Hamilton ledgers, is an extreme example of the Victorian penchant for saving the hair of a loved one as a memento.
This long tress, found in the J. W. Hamilton ledgers, is an extreme example of the Victorian penchant for saving the hair of a loved one as a memento.
Though locks of hair continue to be clipped and kept as mementos, usually by parents who want a keepsake of their infant children, the sharing of a lock of hair between lovers as a symbol of devotion is a tradition that has largely fallen out of favor. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, however, it was a very common thing for a lover to request a lock of hair as a keepsake. Within the Frank C. Kitts Jr. Scrapbook (Ms2010-20), in fact, may be found small ringlets that Kitts, a native of Tazewell, Virginia, obtained from three different women, seemingly as a chronicle of his romantic conquests.
The scrapbook of Frank C. Kitts Jr., who perhaps considered himself something of a Lothario, contains locks of hair from three different women.
Locks of hair were also often kept as mementos of deceased loved ones. Such would seem to be the case with a small, loose bundle of reddish-blonde hair in the Vivian Coleman Bear Papers (Ms2009-086). The lock is accompanied by a poem titled “Despair,” clipped from a newspaper, which concludes, [I]n this world-weary bosom / is buried a sleepless pain.
The poem accompanying a lock of hair in the Bear Papers seems to have been written from the point of view of a woman mourning the loss of her fianc.
The symbolic associations and physical qualities of hair gave rise to its use as a medium for artistic expression during the 19th century, and hairwork became a fashionable handicraft, with jewelry, accessories, and wall ornaments being meticulously fashioned from human hair. Unfortunately (well, fortunately, as far as Im concerned), we have no examples of hairwork in our collections. Most of the locks in our collections are simple affairs, either kept loose or bound with a small ribbon. Within the back of a Civil War-era diary found in the John D. Wagg Papers (Ms1992-048), however, may be found a rather fancily braided ringlet.
The intricate braid of this lock of hair found in the back pocket of a diary maintained by John D. Wagg suggests that it may have been intended for ornamental use.
Within our collections from the Victorian era are many other locks of hair. The owners of these tresses are sometimes identified, but more often theyre not. And so were left today to wonder just who they were, these dead people with their clipped hair, and to be terrifiedokay, not terrified, but at least vaguely and mildly repulsedby the little pieces of themselves that they left behind.
An Arctic Boat Journey, in the Autumn of 1854 (1860)
by Isaac I. Hayes, Surgeon of the Second Grinnell Expedition
Cover of Hayes’ An Arctic Boat JourneyTitle page for Hayes’s An Arctic Boat Journey
On 19 May 1845, John Franklin, an experienced Arctic explorer, led two ships and 128 men from England in search of the Northwest Passage. The last reported sighting of the ships occurred in July 1845. Between 1848 and 1859, some 30 expeditions were launched to search for the lost ships. Isaac Hayes took part in one of those efforts, one that is known as the Second Grinnell Expedition. Largely financed by shipping magnate Henry Grinnell, the brig Advance set out from New York on 30 May 1853 to succeed where his first attempt, launched in 1850, had failed. Though this first effort had located Franklins first wintering camp on Beechey Island off Greenland, it had not solved the mystery of Franklins disappearance.
Under command of Dr. Elisha Kent Kane, a veteran of Grinnells first expedition, the Advance, having spent one winter as planned in Rensselaer Harbor on the west coast of Greenland, was by August 1854, again icebound. With conditions deteriorating, Hayes and seven others, half of the surviving crew, set out for Upernavik, a Danish outpost, some 1300 miles to the south.
Chart of the Upper Limit of Baffin Bay, Illustrating an Arctic Boat Journey
Hayess narrative is the story of a four-month journey that began with a departure from Advance on 23 August 1854 and ended, unsuccessful, nearly four months later on 12 December with a return to Advance.
The winter passed slowly away. Then spring returned, with its daylight, sunshine, and increased warmth; fresh food was obtained, chiefly form the natives; and with these aids, the people rallied. Gradually the gloom which had settled over us was dispelled. The carpenter hobbled out to repair the boats; and in proportion as our strength increased, preparations were carried on for the final abandonment of the vessel.
Despite having to spend a second winter in the ice, Kane led his crew to Upernavik after an 84-day trek over land and water that began on 20 May and ended on 8 August 1855. All but three of those who left Advance in May arrived in New York on 12 October.
Within a year Kane published Arctic Explorations: the Second Grinnell Expedition in Search of Sir John Franklin, leaving Hayes to tell the story of his own harrowing journey.
Kane died at age 37 in February 1857. Isaac Hayes would travel twice more to the Arctic.
Special Collections’ copy of Hayes’s book is the original 1860 edition published by Brown, Taggard, and Chase of Boston.
Title page and frontispiece of The Voyage of the Jeannette with an engraving of George De Long and an image of the ship.
As I was scouting the bookshelves a few months ago in search of something to inspire a new exhibit, I came across two volumes of “The Voyage of the Jeannette: The Ship and Ice Journals of George W. De Long, Lieutenant-Commander U.S.N., and Commander of the Polar Expedition of 1879-1881. I was familiar with several 19th-century polar expeditions, particularly that of John Franklin, which left England in 1845, never to return, but De Long was unknown to me. In the end, I found first-hand accounts of many voyages of discovery, which led to the idea to assemble an exhibit on the themes of Discovery, Travel, and Exploration, but it was the Jeannette with which I began and whose story continues to enliven my curiosity.
When the U.S.S. Jeannette set out from San Francisco on 8 July 1879 with 33 men aboard, including its commander, George Washington De Long, its mission was to reach the supposed Open Polar Sea, attain the North Pole, and to record all manner of scientific observations along the way. Initially built as a gunboat for the British Navy and named Pandora, it had three masts and was equipped with a steam engine and propeller. The ship had passed into private hands and successfully survived two trips to Greenland before James Gordon Bennett Jr., owner of the New York Herald bought her, renamed her Jeannette, and had her structure massively reinforced, all in preparation for the polar mission that De Long would command. She would carry provisions to last three years.
The Jeannette enters the ice.
By 6 September of that year, the Jeannette was locked in the ice, sooner and further south than anticipated. Through disappointment and routine, mostly good spirits prevailed. On 28 October, De Long wrote:
I think the night one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. The heavens were cloudless, the moon very nearly full and shining brightly, and every star twinkling; the air perfectly calm, and not a sound to break the spell. The ship and her surroundings made a perfect picture. Standing out in bold relief against the blue sky, every rope and spar with a thick coat of snow and frost; she was simply a beautiful spectacle.
The Jeannette would drift in the ice in a northwesterly direction through the frozen summer of 1880 and into the spring of 1881. On 11 June–nearly two years after leaving San Francisco–just after midnight, as De Long wrote, the ice suddenly opened alongside and the ship righted to an even keel. For the first time in twenty months, the ship was afloat. Cruelly, some forty hours later the situation had changed:
At four P.M. the ice came down in great force all along the port side, jamming the ship hard against the ice on the starboard side of her, and causing her to heel 16 to starboard. From the snapping and cracking of the bunker sides and starting in of the starboard ceiling . . . it was feared that the ship was about to be seriously endangered. . . . Mr. Melville . . . saw a break across the ship . . . showing that so solidly were the stern and starboard quarters held by the ice that the ship was breaking in two from the pressure upward exerted on the port bow of the ship.. . . At five P.M. the pressure was renewed and continued with tremendous force, the ship cracking in every part. The spar deck commenced to buckle up, and the starboard side seemed again on the point of coming in.
The Jennette sinks, 11 June 1881.
By 6 PM. the Jeannette began to fill with water and as provisions were removed, the ship heeled 30 to starboard. The starboard side had broken in and at 8 PM all hands were ordered off the ship. At 4 AM, the ship went down. They had reached just beyond 77 N latitude, some 700 miles south of the pole, and would head southwest hauling their boats and equipment towards the Lena River on the Siberian coast.
Dragging the boats over the ice.Nindemann and Noros in search of help.
Upon reaching open water 91 days later, the crew boarded three boats on 12 September. A gale separated the three and one boat was lost. De Longs boat, carrying 14 men, reached the marshy Lena delta on 15 September and would soon be abandoned. On 9 October, with the entire party suffering from starvation and exposure, a weakened De Long sent two men ahead in search of help. These two men, Nindemann and Noros, found a small group of hunter-fisherman on 22 October, who took them to the larger settlement they sought. The third boat, commanded by George Melville with eleven aboard, reached the delta on 14 September, nearly 100 miles from the first group, but on a navigable branch of the river. Five days later, they found a fishing camp. Neither Melvilles group nor Nindemann and Noros were able to mount a rescue for De Longs group, though on 2 November, they did find each other. George W. De Long, however, had written his last log entry on 30 October:
One hundred and fortieth day. Boyd and Grtz died during the night. Mr. Collins dying.
Melville continued the search for his comrades and on 13 November, he found the Jeannettes log books, instruments, and other items that De Long had buried on 19 September. It wasnt until the following spring, on 23 March 1882, that Melville and Nindemann found the bodies of De Long and two other members of his party, then those of the remaining seven. One mans body was never found. They also found the ice journal that De Long had kept and which recorded the journey they had taken since the Jeannette was lost. All ten bodies were placed in a makeshift coffin and interred in a cairn on the highest point in the area.
De Long’s last entries.
George Melville arrived in New York on 13 September 1882 and brought De Longs papers, journals, and personal effects to his widow, Emma.
The cairn that temporarily held the bodies of De Long and nine of his men.
By Act of Congress, the remains of De Long and the nine crew were ordered returned for burial in the US. On 20 February 1884, after a 12,000 mile journey westward, they arrived in New York. De Long and six others were buried in Woodlawn Cemetery in the Bronx. On 18 June 1884 a broken box bearing the name Jeannette and other items from the ship were found off the southern coast of Greenland, thousands of miles east of Jeannettes final location. Having made their own journey, these items gave new support to the theory of trans-Arctic drift.
So, this was the story that was the spark for an exhibit that will soon go up, one that will present materials offering a range broader than that of polar exploration . . . but, interestingly, the Collection has several accounts of trips using various means to arrive at various poles. Watch for it:
And Arctic Boat Journey in the Autumn of 1854 by Isaac Hayes.
S. A. Andree’s Polar Balloon Flight, 1897.
Discovery: The Story of the Second Byrd Antarctic Expedition by Richard E. Byrd (1935).
One of the great pleasures of working with manuscript collections is the discovery of the unexpected. When delving into a collection for the first time, one can never be sure just what surprises may be found. The Harold Balch Bailey autograph book, housed within the Bailey-Law Collection (Ms1982-002), is one such surprise.
The Bailey-Law Collection combines the papers of John Eugene Law and Harold E. Bailey (son of Harold Balch Bailey). Both men were accomplished ornithologists, though neither seems to have been formally educated in the subject. The collection contains ornithological field notes, subject files, printed materials, and photographs but is perhaps of more value for its many biographical files, assembled by Bailey, chronicling the lives and activities of other naturalists. Some of these files are extensive and contain correspondence and field notes of their subjects.
Given the collections focus on ornithology and naturalists, its a bit of a surprise to find ensconced here a small, fragile autograph book that has almost no connection to these two subjects. Assembled by the elder Bailey (himself a naturalist), the collection includes the autographs of more than 50 of the foremost personages of the 19th century. Gathered here are signatures of three (possibly four) U. S. presidents; several Union Army generals; no fewer than 14 governors; and well-known authors, artists, and musicians.
Autograph of President Ulysses S. Grant
Autograph of First Lady Frances Folsom Cleveland, on White House signature card
One of two autographs from President Grover Cleveland appearing in Bailey’s collection
Autograph of naturalist/painter John James Audubon, clipped by his family from a letter
Autograph of German composer and conductor, Hans von Bülow
Autographed ink drawing by artist W. L. Champney, known for his book and magazine illustrations
Autograph of Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., appearing below a few lines from his 1858 poem, “The Voiceless”
Autograph of poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Unfortunately, as so often happened in early autograph-collecting, little value was placed on the source material. So, while some of the autographs are found on cards expressly made for the purpose, many others were clipped from documents. In fact, the autograph of John James Audubon is accompanied by a note from his granddaughter, explaining that the letter from which the signature was clipped had contained so many details of the familys home life that they couldnt bear to part with it. The Audubons had no qualms about mutilating the letter, however.
While these signatures have some artificial, market-driven value as objects and may be of general interest to some, most have negligible research value (except insofar as the collection as a whole tells us something about the collector). The context of some of the autographs, however, may be of some value to researchers. The signatures of poets Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. and William Deane Howells, for example, appear below handwritten bits of their poetry, and the signature of artist W. L. Champney appears on an ink drawing.
Elsewhere among the elder Baileys papers are three items relating to the Massachusetts militia. One of these documents, dated 1836, is signed by J. Q. Adams, presumably former president John Quincy Adams, serving at that time as a Massachusetts congressman. Like the autograph book, these items seem out of place within the collection; because of their association with Bailey, they remain in a file under his name.
Historically, archives and other repositories have been victimized by overly eager autograph-hounds. If youve ever visited Special Collections and wondered about some of the restrictions in the Reading Room, bear in mind that its our mission to protect the objects in our care. The security measures are in place to ensure the preservation of our shared history and allow future generations the thrill of discovery.
In honor of tonight’s ghoulish festivitieshere are some Special Collections selections featuring ghosts, witches, mysteries, the occult and paranormal. Take a look if you dare. Who knows you may find a last minute costume idea or a recipe for your haunted house.
Attempted body snatching and inspiring a retired lieutenant commander of the United States Navy to become a leader of the Spiritualist movement poor President Lincoln’s spirit isn’t getting much rest in the afterlife. Clippings from the Washington Daily News (1962) and Washington Star (1959)
Little Witch’s Magic Cookbook (1972)
Three murderous sisters in Christiansburg, a ghost with half a head in Pulaski County, and more can be found in ‘The Mystery of Ghostly Vera and other Haunting Tales of Southwest Virginia’ (1993)
Again Abraham Lincoln and mysticism. Fate vol. 2, no. 3 (September 1949)
Do things in your house go bump in the night? Then you might want to look at this architect’s lecture on ‘How to Sell a Haunted House.’ From Ms2003-018 Eleanore Pettersen Architectural Collection.
Witchcraft & Sorcery The Modern Magazine of Weird Tales (formerly Coven 13) vol.1, no. 5 (January-February 1971)
Poltergeists; an introduction and examination followed by chosen instances. (1959)
Ever wondered what kind of poem a poltergeist would write? From ‘Poltergeists; an introduction and examination followed by chosen instances.’ (1959)
Curious about how to create a ‘Magic Mirror?’ This book provides instructions on several different techniques. Magnetic magic; a digest of the practical parts of the masterpieces of L.A. Cahagnet. (1898).
In 2007, Special Collections at Virginia Tech was graciously gifted a copy of Isaac Newtons Opticks or a Treatise of the Reflections, Refractions, Inflections and Colours of Light.
Title Page from Opticks, or, A treatise of the reflections, refractions, inflections and colours of light by Sir Isaac Newton
Opticks was Newton’s second major book on physical science and was first published in English in 1704, with a scholarly Latin translation following in 1706. The book analyzes the fundamental nature of light by means of the refraction of light with prisms and lenses, the diffraction of light by closely spaced sheets of glass, and the behavior of color mixtures with spectral lights or pigment powders.
The publication of Opticks represented a major contribution to science, and was well received and hotly debated upon its release. Opticks is largely a record of experiments and the deductions made from them, covering a wide range of topics. In the book Newton sets forth in full his experiments, first reported to the Royal Academy of London in 1672 on dispersion, or the separation of light into a spectrum of its component colors. He demonstrates how the appearance of color arises from selective absorption, reflection, or transmission of the various component parts of the incident light.
The major significance of Newton’s work is that it overturned the dogma, attributed to Aristotle or Theophrastus and accepted by scholars in Newton’s time, that “pure” light (such as the light attributed to the Sun) is fundamentally white or colorless, and is altered into color by mixture with darkness caused by interactions with matter. Newton showed just the opposite was true: light is composed of different spectral hues, and all colors, including white, are formed by various mixtures of these hues.
Fold-out page with diagrams illustrating Newton’s experiments
A chart containing results of Newton’s tests
Opening page to Part I of the text
The copy belonging to Special Collections is a 3rd edition of the text, printed in 1721 in London for William and John Innys and was the last edition produced during Newtons lifetime. This nearly 300 year old leather bound book is in excellent condition, even the fold-out pages containing diagrams of Newtons experiments.
The gift was designated by the donors in honor of Matthew Charles Ziegler, Class of 2003. Since it is not recommended that modern materials such as bookplates and their glue be attached to such extraordinary and rare books, this information is noted in the bibliographic record. What a great way to commemorate a Hokie!
Mardi Gras Parade, New Orleans, Louisiana (LOC) http://www.flickr.com/photos/library_of_congress/8385172346/
When I was a wee lass pondering my future I did what any bookish young person (pre-Google) would doI went to my local library. In this case, I went to my childhood library to interview the library director about careers in librarianship. This is the only tidbit I remember librarians love conferences.
Its true. Think about it for a moment. Librarians love information and learning new tricks of the trade and what better venue to do that in than an overly air-conditioned, poorly decorated hotel conference room in Indianapolis, Washington, D.C., or Anaheim.
Archivists also like their conferences and our big one is coming up in a few weeks. Yay, New Orleans in August! In honor of our soon to be host city I thought I would highlight some IAWA collections from the Crescent City.
One of the many institutions of higher learning in New Orleans is Tulane University. For 120 years (1886-2006) Newcomb College operated as a coordinate college of Tulane. Founded by Josephine Louise Newcombs desire to establish a college in memory of her daughter, Harriot Sophie, Newcomb College would in time flourish academically becoming by 1916 one of only seven southern schools to hold a standard college designation within the Southern Association of College Women. Two departments in particular garnered regional and even international admiration: the Department of Physical Education and the Newcomb Art School (1910-1945).
Jacobean Arm Chair, Fannie Magee Drawings, part of Ms2009-054 IAWA Small Collections.
Newcomb Studio, Fannie Magee Drawings, part of Ms2009-054 IAWA Small Collections.
Portrait of a Newcomb girl on a stool (1915), by Wanda Simmons, Newcomb College Drawings, part of Ms2009-054 IAWA Small Collections.
The Newcomb Art School offered an industrial art program featuring pottery, interior design, furniture making, and many other arts and crafts in an effort to educate women in the practical side of life, as well as, to provide employment opportunities for women when few existed. The IAWA has 16 original pencil drawings from students who attended the Newcomb Art School featuring drawings of furniture and interiors by Wanda Simmons and Fannie Magee.
Our next collection with a Big Easy connection is the Betty L. Moss Architectural Collection. Moss was an architect in New Orleans who opened her practice in the 1940s and continued until her death in 2007. A graduate of both Newcomb College and Tulane she was a proud New Orleans resident and an outspoken defender of building preservation and conservation. In October of 2005, a mere 2 months afterHurricane Katrina, she submitted designs for 3 + 4 bedroom prototype houses for the new New Orleans to city officials. These raised houses were designed to protect life and property and to fit the historic New Orleans lot sizes and aesthetic.
From Ms2008-071 Betty L. Moss Architectural Collection. Drawing of Moss’s proposed raised 3 bedroom prototype for Post Katrina New Orleans.
From Ms2008-071 Betty L. Moss Architectural Collection. Moss’s proposed integration of Harrah’s Casino into the exciting Rivergate structure.
Moss along with our third New Orleanian, Abbey Gorin, worked ardently to defend against the demolition of the Rivergate, a mid-20th century Expressionist structure that existed on Canal Street, where the main thoroughfare of the city meets the Mississippi River. The futuristic convention center designed by New Orleans architectural firm Nathaniel C. Curtis Jr. and Arthur Q. Davis lasted only 27 years before it was demolished in 1995 to make way for a Harrahs casino. Moss and Gorin wrote a six-minute film about the history and importance of the structure and it is present in Gorins collection.
Our conference hotel is just a mere 0.1 mile from Harrahs casino, and I would much rather see the undulating concrete roof line of the Rivergate, meant to mimic the Mississippi River, than the bright lights of Harrahs.
If anyone has any suggestions of what I should see and where I should eat in the City that Care Forgot please drop me a line in the comments section below.
Edward Beyer’s Sketch of the Montgomery White Sulphur Springs resort, as planned in 1853.
Summer is here and that means it is time to think about vacationing! While most visitors to our region today tour historically significant sites and enjoy the many recreational activities available in the Blue Ridge Mountains, over a hundred years ago, the most popular attractions in the area were mineral spring resorts. These large and beautiful campuses advertised themselves as ideal for those desiring a change for the purpose of health, novelty, recreation, and to get rid of the wearing activities of business life.
The Yellow Sulphur Springs resort, located between Blacksburg and Christiansburg, commenced operation as a health spa in 1810. Similarly, the Montgomery White Sulphur Springs resort, in Ellett Valley, was incorporated by a group of local businessmen in 1855. Benefiting from the popular belief in the restorative powers of mineral waters, both resorts catered to a new leisure class seeking healthy and entertaining distractions. Offering such amenities as ballrooms, billiards, bowling alleys, gazebos, and sports fields, the resorts attracted visitors from throughout the United States and several foreign countries and it was not uncommon for guests to stay for a month or more. Easy access to the nearby Virginia-Tennessee Railroad ensured the initial success of the springs.
The Montgomery White, encompassing several acres of land, boasted a three-story hotel with more than 200 rooms and more than 30 cottages on the grounds. In 1862 the resort was designated a Confederate general hospital, charged with caring for sick and wounded soldiers. By the end of the summer, the hospital was at capacity, with more than 400 patients. While there is no complete list of those who died in the hospital, the nearby cemetery is said to hold 265 graves. Although it was one of the smaller spas in the area, Yellow Sulphur Springs could house as many as 400 guests in its hotel and adjacent cottages. The hotel became a favorite place for students at Virginia Agricultural and Mechanics College after the college’s founding in 1872. It temporarily closed from 1863 to 1868, but following the war and much renovation, both resorts again opened to the public and became popular summertime destinations.
Montgomery White Sulphur Springs Invitation, 1870
Yellow Sulphur Springs Ball Invitation, 1871
The pavilion at Montgomery White Sulphur Springs
Montgomery White Sulphur Springs Pavilion with Guests
Cottages and Sulphur Spring Pavilion
Close-up of a guest cottage at Montgomery White Sulphur Springs
Yellow Sulphur Springs Sale Broadside, 1943
The springs of Virginia; life, love and death at the waters, 1775-1900, by Perceval Reniers (1941).
Montgomery White Sulphur Springs : a history of the resort, hospital, cemeteries, markers, and monument, by Dorothy H. Bodell, (1993).
By the 1890s, however, the spring resorts of the New River Valley were slowly declining in popularity due to the advent of the automobile and scientific skepticism of the value of spring baths. The economic panic of 1893, together with instances of fire and flood, may have accelerated the resorts downfall. The Montgomery White property was sold by auction and the remaining structures dismantled in 1904. The Yellow Springs property was also sold by auction in 1929, however the original hotel and several other buildings remain standing today, having been placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1979. The buildings have been partially restored, and a guest house and healing arts studio now operate there.
TheYellow Sulphur Springs Hotel Account Book, which might more accurately be described as a guest register, includes the names of guests, their place of residence, the time of their arrival, and their room numbers. The register’s entries commence on August 26, 1887 and end on July 10, 1895.While the resort played host to guests from all areas of the United States, and a few from foreign countries, a number of guests were local residents. Each register page features advertisements for a variety of businesses in Lynchburg, Virginia. TheMontgomery White Sulphur Springs Resort Registerspans from June 30, 1886 to July 26, 1890 and includes the names of the resort’s guests, their place of residence and notes on their meals, rooms and porterage. Each alternate register page features an advertisement for either the Hexall Mills or the Southern Fertilizing Company, both of Richmond, Virginia.
For those interested in learning more about the leisure activities and the spring spas of the New River Valley, a good starting point would be to check outMontgomery White Sulphur Springs : a history of the resort, hospital, cemeteries, markers, and monumentby Dorothy H. Bodell (1993) andThe Springs of Virginia; Life, Love and Death at the Watersby Perceval Reniers (1941). Details about related materials, such as theball invitations, photographs, broadside advertisements, military travel passes, and other resources shown here can be found by searching theVirginia Heritage Database or by visiting us in Special Collections. We wish all of our readers safe and relaxing travels this summer!
A diagram identifying the components of a coat of arms.
Most fans of the popular Game of Thrones television show and book series can tell you the sigil of House Stark and the motto of the Lannister family, but did you know that your own family might have similar identifying emblems? Heraldry, which is the practice of designing, displaying, describing, and recording coats of arms and heraldic badges, does not exist solely in fantasy fiction, but actually dates back over 900 years and is still in use today.
Special Collections is home to the Temple Heraldry Collection which consists of more than 1200 bound volumes, has texts ranging from as early as 1572, all the way up until the modern era. The original gift of 700 pieces was donated to the University Libraries by Col. Harry D. Temple, who graduated from Virginia Polytechnic Institute in 1934. While a majority of texts relate to British heraldry, the collection is constantly being expanded to include works on the heraldry of other nations, such as France, Germany, Poland, Russia, and Spain. Also included are works on related topics of arms and armor, flags, uniforms, and military decorations. These materials are listed in the University Libraries’ online catalog system.
The origins of heraldry stretch back into ancient times. Warriors often decorated their shields with patterns and mythological motifs. Army units of the Roman Empire were identified by the distinctive markings on their shields. These were not heraldic in the medieval sense, as they were associated with military units, not individuals or families. Truly heraldic devices seem to have been first used in Europe during the reign of Charlemagne (768814 AD).
The emergence of heraldry as we know it today was linked to the need to distinguish participants quickly and easily in combat. Distinguishing devices were used on coats of arms, shields, and caparisoned horses, and it would have been natural for knights to use the same devices as those already used on their banners and seals. A formal system of rules developed into ever more complex forms of heraldry to ensure that each knight’s arms were unique (at least within the same jurisdiction).
The system of blazoning arms that is used in English-speaking countries today was developed by the officers of arms in the Middle Ages. This includes a stylized description of the escutcheon (shield), the crest, and, if present, supporters, mottoes, and other insignia. Understanding heraldic rules, most importantly the Rule of Ticture, is the key to the art of heraldry. In the Temple Collection are several encyclopedic texts that offer descriptions of family crests. By following the guidelines of heraldry, one would be able to create a visual representation from the written outline.
Does your familys moniker depict a dragon symbolizing that you are Valiant defender of treasure? Or perhaps a stag to show that you are One who will not fight unless provoked? It is orange to represent your familys ambition or blue, showing that you value truth and loyalty? Every aspect of a coat of arms is symbolic, from the coloring and patterns, to the shapes and layout.
Corps of Cadets Coat of ArmsVT University Seal
Heraldry flourishes in the modern world; institutions, companies, and private persons continue using coats of arms as their pictorial identification. Members of the VT community will likely recognize the official coat of arms of the Corps of Cadets, shown here. Designed in 1965 by Col. Harry D. Temple when he was commanding officer of the Army’s Institute of Heraldry, the coat of arms was granted to the Virginia Tech Corps of Cadets by the U.S. Army. The symbols are as follows:
Flaming grenade = preparation for war
Four gold stars = four major wars in which Tech cadets had fought before 1965 (Spanish-American War, World War I, World War II, and Korean War)
Laurel wreath = the presidential citation given to the cadet band for Spanish-American War service
Color red = strength and courage
Sword = command
Similarly, the University has an official seal containing a shield divided into four quadrants depicting the obverse side of the Great Seal of the Commonwealth of Virginia, the surveyor’s level and leveling rod superimposed over a scroll, a partially husked standing ear of corn, and a chemical retort and graduate. Above the shield is the left side of the flaming lamp of learning with a right hand suspended above it. Created in 1896 and officially adopted by the board of visitors in 1963, the seal has remained unchanged (with the exception of the name of the institution and the alteration of the commonwealth portion) for more than 11 decades and reflects the agricultural/mechanical emphasis in the Virginia Tech curriculum during its first century.
Special Collections is open to researchers looking to better understand the symbolism of coats of arms connected with particular family names, churches, universities, fraternal orders and organizations, as well as those who simply wish to learn more about the governing rules of the art form and design a crest of personal meaning.
