The Acquisitions Table: Atlas of Bergen County, New Jersey

Atlas of Bergen County, New Jersey.[Reading, Pa.]:  Published by C.C. Pease, successor to A.H. Walker, [1876].

According to the bookseller’s description, this Bergen County atlas is the most elaborate and attractive of all New Jersey county atlases of the 1870s.  It is also one of the most difficult to find, as many copies have fallen victim to the breakers and plate peddlers attracted to its lithographed views of scenery and architecture, as well as hand-colored maps.

The volume is full of the kind of detailed information social historians and genealogists cherish.  It starts at the macro-level with world and continental maps, but quickly narrows its focus to North America, then the United States, then New Jersey, until it finally hones in on its target: Bergen County.  The bulk of the atlas is at the level of each individual township and village – mapping each plot of land and house.  At its most micro, it depicts David Knowles’ Mill (in Lodi) and George Miller’s Residence (in Midland).  The “street view” depicted here is quite different from today’s Google Earth view, but one imagines it will change even more as rebuilding continues in the aftermath of 2012’s Hurricane Sandy.

When is a Valentine a Newton?

Attribution is something libraries and museums struggle with every day.  Who is the sitter in this portrait?  Who is the author of this pamphlet?  Often the objects give us clues, but not always.  Sometimes they even lead us astray.  This is the story of a pair of daguerreotypes at the American Antiquarian Society and how they started out being associated with one person and ended up being someone completely different.  In this case, new digital technologies facilitated the research.

The pair of photographs depicts a sculpted bust of a man with wavy hair and a stern expression:

They date from the early 1850s and were made in Worcester by the photographer Benjamin D. Maxham.  Maxham had a shop in the city from 1850 to 1858 and made many daguerreotypes of Worcester residents.

The two images are not cased, but still have their backing pieces, edge preservers and mattes.  The mattes are stamped by Maxham.  Inscribed on the verso in pencil by an unidentified hand is the name “Elmer Valentine.” Valentine was a teacher of penmanship in Northborough, Massachusetts, and the author of several instructional manuals on writing which were published in Worcester.  The daguerreotypes were listed as depicting Valentine in the Society’s inventory and in the online resource for daguerreotypes, as well.  There are no notations regarding the identity of the artist of the bust.

It was not until recently, when high resolution scans of the images were loaded into the Society’s digital asset management system (GIGI, http://gigi.mwa.org/) that I began to have doubts about the sitter being Valentine.  I downloaded the scans of the two daguerreotypes and noticed a faint inscription on the side of the bust.  It is barely legible to the human eye at actual size.  Intrigued, I reversed the digital file (the technology of the daguerreotype resulted in the original photo being a mirror image of reality), and enlarge it immensely. At  400% magnification the incised inscription reads:  “Doct. Newton / by / B. H. Kinney / 185[?]”  The date is illegible due to shadows, even at 400%.

This discovery led me to the AAS catalog where I found that Dr. Newton was likely Dr. Calvin Newton (1800-1853) who had a medical practice in Worcester and was the founder of the Medical College on Union Hill.  He was also the editor of several periodicals, including the New England Medical Eclectic and The Worcester Journal of Medicine, both of which were published in Worcester.  In a biography published the year after his death, Newton was described as “a powerful man physically, a man of large mould, a great body, a great brain; his frame vigorous and well proportioned, every part alive with active, vital force.” He died of typhoid fever in August of 1853. An engraving of the doctor housed at the Society (see right) shows some similarities with the bust, particularly in the shape of the nose and the hair style.

Another avenue for investigation concerned the identity of the sculptor, B. H. Kinney, whose work is represented elsewhere in the Society’s portrait collection (http://www.americanantiquarian.org/Inventories/Portraits/39.htm, and http://www.americanantiquarian.org/Inventories/Portraits/130.htm).  In 1985, William Wallace, Executive Director of the Worcester Historical Museum, published a catalog of the work of Benjamin H. Kinney (1821-1888).  I pulled the catalog off the shelf but found no mention of Newton or of Valentine (just in case!).  I emailed the images over to Bill at the WHM and he called me right away to discuss.  His research on Kinney was based on newspaper searches and work with a manuscript archive.  He agreed that the bust certainly could be the work of Kinney, and that it would not have been unusual for Kinney to produce a bust after the death of such a prominent local person.  From the daguerreotype, it appears that the bust is made of plaster, in preparation for a marble carving.  Kinney made a preparatory plaster bust of Isaiah Thomas, which was commissioned for AAS in 1859, and still exists in the collection (http://www.americanantiquarian.org/Inventories/Portraits/129.htm).  Perhaps the medical school or a family member commissioned the piece after Newton’s death in 1853.  The date is obscured by shadow, unfortunately, but could be 1854 or 1857.  A quick check of the Worcester newspapers came up empty, but research continues to track down the commission details.

In the end,  AAS will be updating our online resource to reflect this new information, giving Dr. Calvin Newton a new prominence and firmly locating the bust in the oeuvre of Benjamin H. Kinney.  Put it down to the power of Photoshop, or to the persistent curiosity of the curator, or both … but without the ability to enlarge and rotate the digital file, Dr. Newton would probably have remained Mr. Valentine!

The Acquisitions Table: The Encyclopedia of English Grammar

Hall, William.  The Encyclopaedia of English Grammar: Designed for the Use of Schools.  Wheeling, Va.: John B. Wolff, 1849.

Like newspapers, textbooks were frequently among the earliest imprints issued in regional outposts like Wheeling, Virginia (later West Virginia).  Such is the case with William Hall’s Encyclopaedia of English Grammar, which was first copyrighted in nearby Ohio.  This image is taken from a chapter on music instruction found at the end of the book—embodying the porous and flexible nature of subjects treated within one textbook in antebellum America.  The songs themselves: O, California and Robert Burns’ Auld Lang Syne reflect popular musical taste.

Identifying the Unidentified, Part IV

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been featuring posts by former AAS intern Lucia Ferguson (Smith College) about her experience identifying an unidentified diary (Part I, Part II, and Part III).  This week she shares her concluding thoughts.

Researching the Martin family proved mysterious and frustrating. And still, as I researched the lives Henry’s family lived after his death, I felt a strange fascination. Here is what I learned.

I have not found Henry’s date of death, but his wife filed for her widow’s pension on April 18, 1896. He must have died quite young—53, at the oldest. In 1910, Lizzie and 29-year-old Minnie lived together in Lyndeborough. Minnie was a schoolteacher; Lizzie ran the farm. In 1920, she was listed as head of household in Lyndeborough and owned her house. Her occupation was Farmer and Manager. Minnie and her husband Fred Kent (formerly a hired hand at the farm) lived with her. (Fred died in September 1973. They do not appear to have had children.) Lizzie died in Lyndeborough in May of 1922.

I found a death notice for Henry’s younger brother Moses: “Died, in Blakeville, N. H., April 24, 1870, Moses, son of Samuel and Lovilla Martin, aged 17 years. May the Lord sustain the afflicted family. Funeral discourse from Rom. 8:28.” (“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”)

This notice appeared in the Advent Review & Sabbath Herald, published in Battle Creek, Michigan. It was the only death notice published in that issue, buried in a roster of upcoming camp-meetings across the northeastern corner of the United States. In 1870, another Martin son, Levi, had recently married his second wife Sarah Wilkinson; her name appears on the list of subscribers to the Advent Review. Was it simply Sarah that got the obituary published in the Adventist paper, or were the Martins also members of that faith?

Levi seems to have been quite close to Henry, both in age and in friendship. He is frequently mentioned throughout the diary. He is also the member of the Martin family with the most information easily available. I discovered that he was married four(!) times, some in quick succession: 1868, to Clintina A. Atherton (age 16; he was 18); 1870, to Sarah Wilkinson; 1879, to Minnie A. Smith; 1899, to Nellie Isadore Kimball-Beals.

Lizzie inscribed the following poem in the back of the diary. Written by Barbara Johns, it was printed in Arthur’s Home Magazine in 1865. Lizzie wrote the stanzas out of order and changed a few words, either intentionally or mistakenly.

Henry—

Look upward with a steady faith / Hope’s brightness gayly borrow / And recollect tho’ dark today / It may be bright tomorrow / Forget not that afflictions deep / By God’s own grace is sent; / The one most precious is refined / For water rock was rent / And tho’ the clouds of sorrow lower / Yield not to discontent, / But midst the darkness and the gloom / Bless God for sunshine sent.

Recently I climbed Mount Monadnock. I felt the thrill of circumstance and time as I looked out over the countryside Henry Martin called home. He probably climbed this mountain too, I thought—probably saw this—but for him, the view was a way of seeing something familiar made new. It was humid, the air gently steaming as we ascended to find that view—but the sky was dark, thunderclouds rolled in over our heads, and songbirds fell silent. The air was heavy. It began to rain.

Memorial Service for Mr. McCorison

A memorial service for Marcus A. McCorison will be held on Saturday, February 16 at 11 a.m. at United Congregational Church, 6 Institute Road, Worcester, Massachusetts with reception following at the American Antiquarian Society, 185 Salisbury Street, Worcester.

For more information go to: http://www.americanantiquarian.org/mccorison.htm.

The Acquisitions Table: Notes in College

Downer, David R., “Notes in College,” 1827-1828.

David Robinson Downer (1808-1841) was born in Westfield, New Jersey.  He attended Yale College, graduating in 1828, and then entered the Auburn Seminary, eventually becoming minister of the West Presbyterian Church in New York City.  This volume consists of theological notes made by Downer during his senior year at Yale. There are entries on Biblical texts and a variety of theological subjects, and a “List of Books,” all theological, in the rear of the volume.

Remembering Marcus A. McCorison

As we began planning a lengthy piece on AAS president emeritus Marcus A. McCorison for the Almanac newsletter last week, we pulled photographs of him out of the archives for possible use as illustrations.  I was struck by this photograph:

In it, Marcus is sitting in his office, which is now my office.  On the desk in front of him are papers, a Swann auction catalog marked with our wants, and a copy of his Vermont Imprints. Both the tall clock and the portrait of 1830s AAS librarian Christopher Columbus Baldwin are in the office today, within sight as I write this.

I came to AAS as curator of manuscripts in 1990, just two years before Marcus retired, and in fact I got to know him much better in the years after he left AAS. He continued coming to the library for a variety of research projects, and he routinely sent all of us curators items of interest from book dealers’ and auction catalogs.  His knowledge of the AAS collections was such that he was rarely wrong when he found something he thought we didn’t own.  He was a true bookman of the kind that scarcely exists anymore.

He was particularly generous to me when I became the Marcus A. McCorison Librarian in 2007.  We spent a most memorable day in New York City in 2008 after he had proposed me for membership in the Grolier Club.  On an almost unbelievably hot and humid June day he took me to lunch at the Century Club, where the staff  knew him by name, and then to visit a former vice-chair of the AAS council, and then to the Grolier Club to meet the admissions committee.  It must have been an exhausting day for him (it certainly was for me) but he propelled himself through it with the energy he brought to everything. I’ll miss him, as will countless others who knew him.

Saying Goodbye to the President Emeritus

This past weekend we said goodbye to a dear friend and colleague. Marcus A. McCorison – librarian, director, president, and then president emeritus of the American Antiquarian Society – passed away on Sunday, February 3. He will be sorely missed. Although a more detailed homage to Mr. McCorison’s contributions to the Society will be published in our upcoming issue of the Almanac, a full obituary and details about memorial services and donations to his book fund at AAS in honor of his life’s work are now available on our website at: http://www.americanantiquarian.org/mccorison.htm.

As current president Ellen Dunlap remarked upon presenting Mr. McCorison with the Society’s highest honor – the Christopher Columbus Baldwin Award – in 2010, “When I think of the great distance this institution has traveled over the course of these 50 years, I am reminded that it was Marcus who was the trailblazer. Along the way, he has imparted to us a great sense of responsibility and stewardship, not just for the collections, but also for the sterling reputation of the Society as a model of all that a great research library should be. By his example, he has challenged us to make no small plans, to maintain standards of excellence, and to be entrepreneurial, even ambitious, in the pursuit of our unique bibliographical agenda – building and preserving a great collection and making it truly accessible.” Here’s to Mr. McCorison and his legacy that will continue to live on as AAS enters its third century.

The Acquisitions Table: Marion’s Brigade Crossing the Pedee River

Currier & Ives after William Ranney, Marion’s Brigade Crossing the Pedee River, S.C., 1778, on Their Way to Attack the British Forces under Tarleton. New York: Currier & Ives, between 1872 and 1874.

Although founded in the 1830s, the firm of Currier & Ives continually produced historical subjects, printing images of the American Revolution and scenes from the colonial era and early Republic. Portraits of Washington and John Adams were published alongside contemporary images of Lincoln and Grant.  There was clearly a market for these pieces, as they were produced into the sunset years of the firm in the 1870s and 1880s.  This Revolutionary War era image of General Marion crossing the Pee Dee River in 1778 was based on a painting made by the American artist William Ranney in 1850.  Ranney’s composition had also been issued as an engraving published by the American Art Union in 1852.  This post-1870 hand-colored lithograph indicates that images of the crafty military hero known widely as the “Swamp Fox” had a long life and were still of interest to Americans nearly one hundred years after the Revolutionary War was over.

Reflecting on a Bicentennial Year: 2012 Annual Report Online

In case you have not seen it yet in its printed form, we are very pleased to have posted our 2012 Annual Report online.  Last year was full of celebrations and events to do with our Bicentennial, but that in no way marginalized the full year we had of fellowships, conferences, public programs, book publications, collection acquisitions,  seminars, and the general productive ferment of a flourishing institution.  There is something for every taste and interest amongst it pages, and we hope you will have occasion to read through it and see what a year it was!

Identifying the Unidentified, Part III

Last week, former AAS intern Lucia Ferguson brought us through some of Henry Martin’s (a previously unidentified diarist) daily routines.  Read on to learn about his experience as a soldier in the Civil War, and a miner in a goldmine.

After working as a farmhand in his teenage years, Henry served in the Civil War. He signed up in September 1864 and was enlisted in K Company of the 1st New Hampshire Cavalry Regiment on March 14 of that year. In the diary, however, there is scant evidence for his military career—just two or three mentions of “seeing Mr. Barrett about my pension.” Although Henry’s interior life certainly doesn’t overwhelm the pages (the diary is hardly a masterpiece of introspection), I found it interesting that it took me a very long time to identify him as a veteran at all. This goes back to the idea that a diary is, as a way of recording a life, very much grounded in the present, with little room for a sense of the past.

Henry’s record in the Register of Soldiers and Sailors of New Hampshire (1861-65) lists him as having been wounded. But we don’t know anything about his life in 1864, not really. All we know, so far, is within the pages of his diary.

In late June, Henry goes to work as a hand at a brand-new goldmine (the Diamond Ledge site in Dublin, New Hampshire, owned by Levi and Moses Fairbanks). He remains at work there until September 14.

Henry is proud of his work, writing on August 10: “very good luck to day I held the drill and loaded the blasts etc / had to sharpen drills…” But overall, the work was difficult and the experience lonely. Henry’s most emotionally charged entries were all written during those months at the mine.

God help me and hold me up. Started for P[eterborough] again walked to my boarding place. The first from Jim was you look as though you had been crying. I must compose myself better– (Sunday, August 25)

Work on ledge / it seems so diferent / all the hands have the blues so I am not noticed. O that I might be with you Lizzie— (Monday, August 26)

If you drive through Peterborough to Dublin today, you can find Gold Mine Road.

Check back next week for Lucia’s final thoughts on her research into Henry, and the rest of the Martin family.

The Acquisitions Table: Levi Ballou Commonplace Book

Ballou, Levi, Commonplace Book, 1831-1840.

Levi Ballou (1806-1865) was born in Halifax, Vermont.  After studying theology with his brother William S. Ballou, Levi became a minister in Orange, Massachusetts in 1843.

These fascicles contain poems and prose extracts, almost all of which appear to have been copied by Levi Ballou from a variety of sources. The majority appear to have come from the albums of friends and acquaintances (almost all of whom were female) with a few coming from books and periodicals such as the Rural Repository.

Our Need, Now an Employment Opportunity

On March 30-31, 2012, as part of our bicentennial programming, AAS hosted a symposium titled “Research Libraries in the Digital Age: Needs and Opportunities.” This symposium was intended to provide the AAS Council and staff with a set of perspectives that would help inform its vision of how AAS can best position itself to remain a vibrant center of research in early American history and culture as it moves into its third century. The model for this conference was the 1984 conference held at AAS on “Needs and Opportunities in the History of the Book,” which served as the inaugural event in the Society’s Program in the History of the Book in American Culture. The needs and opportunities identified in that conference informed AAS’s programmatic efforts for a quarter-century, inspired the inception of an ongoing annual summer seminar in book history, and led to the publication of the landmark five-volume series A History of the Book in America, completed in 2010.

The 2012 “Needs and Opportunities” conference focused on the profound challenges facing the American Antiquarian Society and its peer institutions as the digital turn becomes ever more a reality rather than a hypothesis. We asked the invited participants in this symposium—staff at peer institutions, senior, mid-career, and junior scholars—to help AAS chart a course for our scholarly programming as we move into our third century, and to explore the unique and continuing value of the research library as increasing amounts of archival materials become available digitally.

One of the key needs identified at the symposium was for there to be a person at AAS whose primary focus would be on working with digitized materials and with scholars conducting digital humanities projects. The AAS is delighted to announce that, with the support of the Public Fellows Program at the American Council of Learned Societies, we have an opportunity for a recent humanities or social science Ph.D. to work at AAS on a two-year fellowship as our Digital Humanities Curator.

The Public Fellows Program—offered with the support of the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, and now in its third year—will place 20 recent Ph.D.s from the humanities and humanistic social sciences in two-year staff positions at partnering organizations in government and the nonprofit sector.  Fellows will participate in the substantive work of these organizations and receive professional mentoring.  Compensation will be competitive and will include health benefits for the fellow.  The American Antiquarian Society is pleased to announce that it is one of these 20 participating organizations.

More information about the program, including a full description of the fellowship, is available at http://www.acls.org/programs/publicfellows/. The deadline for applications is March 27, 2013 (6pm EDT). All inquiries should be directed to ACLS, not to the AAS.

Indentifying the Unidentified, Part II

Last week we featured a post by former AAS intern Lucia Ferguson (Smith College) about her journey into an unidentified diary.  Read on to learn more about the diarist’s day to day life as he recorded it in his diary.

During 1867, when he kept this diary, Henry made his living by selling pictures and books, working at a local goldmine, quarrying stone, and helping at an uncle’s farm. He writes at least a few words every day, primarily of his activities selling “pictures” and books through subscription, his work, his travels to nearby towns to visit friends and relatives, and his correspondence.

He often records the names of his customers and his prices, as well as his own purchases (mainly books). His pictures seem to consist of landscapes and portraits of celebrated Civil War heroes such as Abraham Lincoln and General James Shields. It is unclear whether he creates them himself or if they are prints of some kind. However, he does once mention “painting in the morning,” so he may well have painted all the images himself.

Henry attends church regularly, as well as a few Sunday schools and “sings.” He also goes to a town meeting, a temperance meeting, plays, and lectures. A handful of times he mentions himself or his family having their photographs taken. I wish I knew where to find those pictures, if they still exist.

Henry travels regularly to nearby towns such as Lyndeborough, Peterborough, Wilton, Weare, New Ipswich, New Boston, and Nashua. He often writes of letters from Lizzie, his future wife, and from “Benjamin F,” probably his cousin Benjamin Franklin Martin (1837-1908). It is difficult to tell in which town his boarding-house is located; his family home is possibly in Bennington, although his wedding announcement lists him as “of Wilton,” several siblings were born in Francestown, and his parents will move to Rindge within a few years. He writes of friends by the names of Frank, Pendleton, Albert, and Henry F, and a fellow mine worker named Jim. He has an antagonistic relationship with another miner named Saul Tilton, who owes the diarist money and skips town without paying him (after behaving oddly for a few days and falling asleep in the blacksmith’s shop).

Monday again etc / have got a number of orders today sold 2 pict etc no letters / dont se [sic] why Lizzie dont write— / Washed dishes this morning & got water so as to Bless on good terms etc. (Monday, February 4th)

This young woman named Lizzie appears frequently, mostly acknowledged through the receipt of letters, but also occasionally physical visits. Once I thought I had found a candidate for the diarist, I wondered if he had actually married his sweetheart, and having little else to look for (no last names and so on) I used her to narrow the search. Sure enough, of all the Henrys who married Lizzies in Hillsborough County in the early 1870s, this diarist was one.

Her name was Elizabeth B. Hadley, eldest daughter of Wilkes and Betsey F. Hadley, and she married Henry in Wilton on September 11, 1869. The newlyweds resided for some time in Amherst, New Hampshire, with Henry’s younger brother Levi. As far as I can tell they had only one child, a daughter born in 1871 named Minnie.

The impression of a flower stain remains on September 19: “this flower L– put here,” underneath which Lizzie added, in her delicate curling hand, “Goodly for a while”

Check back next week to read about Henry’s life as a soldier and a miner!

The Acquisitions Table: Grandmamma Easy’s Joseph and His Brethren

Grandmamma Easy’s Joseph and His Brethren. Albany: William B. Sprague, Jr., ca. 1840-1860.

This picture book history of the Old Testament hero Joseph gives the modern reader a precious glance into popular mid-nineteenth-century American iconography portraying the Middle East. Jacob’s family is seen here nestled among palm trees, pyramids, and obelisks, with camels in tow.  Albany publisher William Buell Sprague (1826-1906) was the son of a prominent minister.  He apparently copied this edition from one issued by Philadelphia publisher George Swett Appleton.