THIS HANOVER

A moving dialogue between an incredibly old grad and a contemporary professor emeritus; not to be read by any person who has been in Hanover within one year.

(The old grad begins the talk.) "I graduated in 1869; I don't seem to remember you."

"Naturally, for I was a pea green freshman during the year when you were alleged to be a grand old senior. But I remember you; they said that you could throw a base ball farther than any man in college."

"There's glory for sixty years. If anything could make toe feel boyish again that would. I should have to restrict myself to tossing the ball now, with a tenyard limit. But I can't believe this place is Hanover. lam astonished, amazed, astounded, overwhelmed."

"What is the occasion of this brainstorm ?" "O the changes, the growth." "I graduated in 1872 and came back in 1879, and though I have seen the changes and the growth I often find myself in your mental state. But you will admit that there was room for growth and place for change."

"Undoubtedly, with the times. But Dartmouth wasn't so inefficient in fitting men for their work in the world as these moderns would like to make out to emphasize differences that need no emphasis. We weren't heard to brag of buildings and equipment, were we? We couldn't. Except perhaps of the age of Old Dartmouth Hall. When we had to boast it was about those faithful, highly respected teachers who heard us recite out of books. It was 'plain living and high thinking' for the profs in those days. How is it now ? Do you make the more capital out of men or out of things ?"

"You'll have to ask the students or read The Dartmouth editorials."

"Never mind; I can guess. Now I'll have my car brought around and I want you to.show me the outside of everything. ... I suppose you don't smoke ?"

"Try me. I guess you get your idea from that little verse, 'There's Prof So-and-So smoking on the sly; he's going to catch it by and by.' That is out of date now."

"Light up then and come along. But isn't that a worldly garb—those short trousers ? Don't the students laugh (excuse me) at your slim shanks?"

"Goodness, no. They can show plenty of slimmer ones themselves. To begin our trip, we will go a little way westward on Wheelock St. because it is the only region in the place that you will recognize, unless it is 'the Old Row'; and there you will think you remember Dartmouth Hall when you don't.

"I don't see Professor Brown's house here on the northwest corner."

"No, that has traveled in two laps far down on to Park St. It was a pioneer in the game of 'puss in the corner' as played by the Hanover houses. You see College Hall, a sort of social center and a grand repository of food. Freshmen are required to eat there, and its facilities for serving banquets and dinners enable the College to act as a generous host. You don't see Balch's stable which stood long after his house, the successor to Brown's, was burned. (This was the famous Golden Corner.) But you do see the end of a long row of dormitories, St. Thomas Church which had services on the corner of Lebanon and College Sts.

when you were here, two fra- ternity houses, then President Smith's house little changed externally. But it was the south side of the street which I thought had yet a familiar look." "T here is uncle Jo Emerson's on the corner; who is in it now ?"

"The Casque and Gauntlet senior society. It is changed by an addition in the rear. Their valuable back yard has become the maw of the movies. The pictures are managed by a Village Improvement Society and have already provided much modern fire apparatus and many rods of concrete sidewalks. Next is the old President Wheelock' house, here when you were in college, and not much changed in appearance since. It is the home of the Howe Library. Do you remember Emily Howe? She was about one-fourth of Hanover's social life in our day. She married Hiram Hitchcock (who established the hospital as a memorial to his first wife) and endowed this library, open freely to all residents of the village, and of inestimable value; later she gave to the College by will the immense tract of land from the west of North Main St. to the river." "How fine!"

"Yes, and as we go on you will get some idea of how much the College and the village owe to gifts like these."

"I suppose it is the same with every college." "But how little the undergraduates think of their indebtedness to others!" "Cheer up. Think how much these thoughtl ess ones will give in the future. Nevertheless there should be a regular course in 'Benefactors.' Now there's an idea, Professor."

"Right you are, and I'd start it if I had the chance. This next house, the old Powers house, is the comfortable home of the D K E fraternity."

"Mine, by gorry; I must drop in and see if they don't want money for something or other."

"And the next one, a residence yet, traceable back to Clarinda Cram and Betsy Dewey, has been occupied by Professor Bartlett for nearly fifty years. Randolph McNutt '71 you remember him who recently left the College something like a half million—used to room there, and when he returned to Hanover he had the habit of dropping in to recall those primitive and pleasant days."

'"I remember the next house very well; Dr. Newton's it was, a great center for music; is it much altered?"

"Very much within, and the columns in front are from Cobb's old general store. It is another fraternity house."

"And what is that little brick building across the street?"

"That sir, is Hanover Plain's only school house when you and I graduated, its high school and its low school. Now it's the home of the Stockbridge boys' club and doing a lot of good; named for Miss Stockbridge, a friend of boys, who died twenty-four years ago. We may as well take the road down the hill, once dreary and desolate, now beautifully shaded by trees set out by Dr. William T. Smith."

"Another benefactor ?" "O yes, and he gave to the College the clock in Dartmouth Hall which strikes the hours and to the Congregational church the communion table. He left fine tokens of remembrance to college, village and church; but I wonder sometimes how many know it now."

"Is this the same old bridge?"

"The Ledyard Bridge built in 1859, and recently patched up to meet the stress of automobiles for another ten years. Here we will turn to the right and go up this delightful private way on college prop- erty, the Tuck Drive. I always wish it could be ten times as long. Down to the left on the river bank perhaps you can catch a glimpse of the monument to John Ledyard erected by Melvin O. Adams and John A. Aiken. Now as we turn you can just see above to the left a few residences on Webster Terrace, and a little farther along—we are now headed nearly east the charming grounds of the presidential mansion come in sight, another gift of Edward Tuck. Along the newly opened south side of the street on which this fronts—Webster Ave. are several fraternity houses, specimens of the new type rapidly coming."

"No wonder the boys can't get along on less than $1,500 a year when they live like that. My father allowed me $300, I earned another hundred and got along very well."

"You could, you know, have had board at a 'starvation club' for $2 a week if you were willing to go without tea and coffee. Still our boys don't have' to put up with the privations we had to without pitying ourselves. The standards were lower, and these 'trustees of posterity' continue to develop quite well after all—but to return to externals, you see we are still on the grounds of the Hitchcock estate. The road forks and we take the right. You miss the Hitchcock mansion because it is gone; but on its site off to the left, that is to the north, is the Russell Sage dormitory, and in front of it on Main St. is the new Science building which takes the work of, and improves upon Butterfield. You don't miss Professor Parker's house, for that was built and taken down since your time. On our right is the newest of the dormitories, Gile Hall, then Hitchcock and the long row, Hubbard, North Massachusetts, Massachusetts, South Massachusetts run- ning southerly along a new street.

"What is that huge building straight ahead ? Let me think; yes, the Miss Sherman, Ruggles and Ben Crosby houses used to be in that block."

"That is the noble new Baker Library." "I heard there was a good library; Wilson Hall, wasn't it?"

"That has been outgrown for years." "What "is that ornamental weathervane?"

"Eleazar teaching the In-di-an, of course; though some evil-minded person has got up a jest about visual evidence of the '500 gallons of New England rum'."

"Alas, some people will make a joke of the most sacred things."

"We will make the turn back towards the Inn. You would never know the region if it were not for that landmark, the 01 and meetinghouse. When you come again next year I think you will see in this space back of the church the English House or Sanborn Hall. When Professor Sanborn resigned in 1881 he was without adequate funds for his old age, and several of his friends, some of them former pupils, assured him of $500 a year for the rgst of his life. Now his son, who was only three years out of college at that time, provides a memorial, house and library endowment, of about a million and a half; interesting, isn't it?"

"Did you know him?"

"O yes, and the whole family. As my name has an early initial I used to sit right under the old gentleman's desk and when he gave forth his amiable thunders I vibrated. I used to go coasting with Kate and later she sent me some of her books."

"Of course I recited to him; but I got most of my knowledge of English literature right in yonder sacred edifice. But I'm a deacon now."

"You must remember then the visiting preacher, agent of one of the benevolent societies, who began his sermon, 'Last Sabbath I preached to the convicts in the Vermont State prison. They were all there. They had to be."

"I do, and I wonder if he ever found out why his simple statement of fact was received with such tremendous enthusiasm."

"He'll go down in history with the chapel incumbent who told the boys to come a-running to chapel the same way the football team came on the field in the college he came from.

Even the experienced Dr. Leeds didn't always avoid applause. When he paused in the middle of an earnest discourse long enough to count four and said solemnly, 'I pass,' I thought he ought to have known better; but I was always in doubt about the 'Wake, Christian brother'. It fitted well into a sermon on slothfulness, but it also found several shining and sleepy marks in the students' pews. But I must admit that another home missionary played in hard luck. To illustrate the need of guarding the rural districts he cried out, 'And did not Brigham Young and Joseph Smithy come from Vermont?' How was he to know that 'Brigham' Young and Joe Smith were conspicuous objects in the gallery? But look at this west side of the street. Dr. Dixi Crosby's house has been made into an eyepleasing dormitory, and the Chandler building somewhat altered still stands on the site of the old Moor's Charity School. But gone is the Hubbard or Quimby residence, Susan Brown's, the Young or Proctor house, Professor Sanborn's, the bank building, Professor Brown's and its successor Balch's. Was there ever a more sweeping change except by fire! Instead we have Parkhurst, Tuck, Robinson and College Halls."

"I know Parkhurst is the administration building and Tuck is the home of the Tuck School, but what is Robinson?"

"It serves a fine purpose for offices of student organizations, the Outing Club, the Dartmouth and others, with a charming Little Theatre. Now we have come back to the Inn. This Inn, by the way, is owned by and managed for the College and stands on the site of the old Dartmouth Hotel where Mrs. Frary reigned queen of doughnuts and apple sauce and fish-and-cream till burned out in the fire of January, 1887. Let us move down Main St. glancing here and there. It is nearly all new and still coming. This red brick row on the left takes the place of the old Tontine. Down this way somewhere we are going to have a Town House. Straight ahead is old Nigger Hill and the road to West Lebanon where once Hiram Orcutt's fem sem attracted those students who wished to burst forth in midnight song, the more because it was supposed that Mr. Orcutt detested it. South Hall on the right famous for its long gallery and its cheap rooms for impecunious freshmen went up in flames almost back of the memory of men. Dr. Gates' house moved from the site of Wilson Hall stands on the left near the brow of the hill. Coming back we turn into Lebanon St. noticing on the corner the admirable bank building. The tiny bank of our day reports now deposits subject to check of over eight hundred thousand dollars. Not bad for a country bank."

"This is the same old Lebanon St." "It is in a state of transition and doesn't look so hopeless as once, with fresh paint and improved front yards. The first street is College St. and on the corner is a temporary dormitory, called South Hall, enclosing an unrecognizable relic of the primitive St. Thomas church."

"I remember that there was always an easy monitor there."

"And do you remember that Bishops (as they were to be) Nicholson, Leonard and Talbot were also there when we were in college? We pass St. Denis Roman Catholic Church on our right and look toward the new grade school; the high school is over west on Allen St. At the corner of Crosby St., up which we will turn, is the Memorial Stadium (to 112 men of the College in the Great War) seating about 7,000. As we have to provide for eight or ten thousand more on wooden bleachers around the football field we expect to see this extended before long. And now you get a glimpse of the splendid athletic plant of the College, the central Alumni Gymnasium flanked by tennis courts, with the Davis Field House connected at this wing and the Spaulding Swimming Pool similarly placed at the other. And beyond is the great field. In your mind's eye you can see the hockey rink and fiuditorium combined soon to be built."

"How much is invested here?" "A truly indigenous question. I don't know ; for a rough guess $800,000." "Does this great investment pay?" "It . does .if

we get what we want for it, good health, virility, love of fair play, and that sort of external contact which acknowledges equals but no superiors."

"Doesn't the tail waggle the dog?" "Not if it is an obedient tail and a stout dog. But the trend towards excess is strong and swift and calls for not only four-wheel brakes on the dog, but an uncompromising emergency brake as well. I am showing you only what we can see from the car; you will want to inspect this outfit more closely. As we go up Crosby St. to East Wheelock we pass on the left a great college workshop and storehouse, and the east front of a modern dormitory, Topliff Hall."

"I don't seem to see here any thing that I ever saw before."

"True you do not, except Reed Hall. But just west of Topliff is New Hampshire Hall, another dormitory, and beyond that is Wilson Hall, the deserted library which is being made over into a museum. It is on the site of the house of Dr. Laban Gates, which you will remember. Back of these buildings is the heating station which furnishes light and heat to about fifty college buildings. Across the street east of Reed is Bartlett Hall built for the Christian Association but no longer used by it. Next is the end of a row the Fayer weather dormitories, and then comes Culver Hall, famous for being abandoned, by the New Hampshire College, by Biology, Geology and English, by the museum, by Chemistry, and soon by the Fine Arts."

"And the next, from Egypt?" "That is the abode of the Sphinx senior society."

"And right along here when I was in college was the Alpha Delt house distinguished among the four academic fraternities by having under the lodge four dormitory rooms."

"You see in that handsome brick building what it has grown into. Some distance beyond is the only house that you will remember 'Type' Hitchcock's."

"Does he live there now?"

"O no, he died in Honolulu in 1919. The house is now occupied by a fraternity. Beyond are several apartment houses owned by the College. Here we turn to the left along North Park St. The whole of the old village is now surrounded with clusters of modern cottages such as you see here, compact, sightly and convenient. It is a changed world, and Mrs. Assistant Prof must do much of her own work, for how can she afford $1,200 or so a year for female help, even if she could find it, not very competent at that? And the learned husband must not be above pushing a baby carriage or remaining at home occasionally of an evening to let his wife go to the club, provided, of course, the marriage is normally productive. At the turn of the road we might go down Potash Hill to the right and come up where we can see the extension of the golf course on Hilton Field, the soaring ski jump, and reach in a couple of miles the great reservoirs which enable us to use and to waste over a hundred gallons of water a day each. That is where Dr. Tucker put his ax to the jam in the log drive. Water, we had to have water to grow."

"Is that where one of Hanover's old inhabitants was going to drink all the water that could be impounded?"

"Yes, but he failed. We go around to the left and return to College St. passing the Hardy-Tucker-Hopkins house now the Graduate Club and swing to the right past the front of our beautiful Mary Hitchcock Memorial Hospital (for the improvement of which we want $250,000). As we make the right hand turn into what was once Stump Lane (and merited the name by preserving the stumps of the primitive forest until they annoyed the golfers), but is now Rope Ferry Road, you see attached to the north-west corner of the hospital Dick Hall's House, wonderful memorial of a fine boy, and a charming home for sick or injured students. You must visit the hospital and Dick's House. Passing along Rope Ferry Road lined on both sides with recently built homes we come to the club house of Hilton Field, a stimulating golf course of 5,890 yards.

"I must have a try at it. I'm keen on golf myself and ready to tackle anyone with an allowance of 25."

"Go to it. Now here at the clubhouse we swing around to the west and half circle the pond, Occom Pond, once a natural pond but drained and afterwards about thirty years ago restored through the enterprise of our old friend 'Tute' Worthen. It is brilliantly lighted in the winter evenings for skating. And the sporty members of the faculty have taken to curling with great zest. The $50,000 clubhouse of the Outing Club is to be placed near its north end. Passing under Occom Ridge to Choate Road we continue to Webster Ave., straight ahead, getting a front view of the president's house, two or three residences and groups of fraternity houses on each side of the street, and come again to North Main St. nearly opposite Elm. Northerly in the direction of the hospital all the residences have either become, or given place to, fraternity houses. Crossing Main St. into Elm we pass on the corner at the left the main building of the Clark School for Boys, and also at the left but farther back the great college greenhouse. This is a region of moving and building activity. Down Main St. a most conspicuous object is the new Science Building partially on the site of Professor Parker's residence. Where Miss Sherman's house stood is to be the new Fine Arts building, and farther along on the right of Elm St. is the rear of the huge Baker Library. Elm House, where Dr. Thomas Crosby once lived, well known for the Crosby Club forty years ago, has left only a site. As we come out on North College St. to the northeast and back from the street are the buildings of one of the oldest medical schools in the country; nearly in front of us is the Steele Chemistry building; then Wheeler Hall, a dormitory. Good old Wheeler of Orford gave the t r u s't e e s the first encouragement to fight the Dartmouth College Case against the State by putting down $1,000 for their use. Back on the terrace is Wilder Bfa.ll, the building for Physics, and beyond it Richardson, a dormitory. On the street south of Wheeler is Rollins Chapel."

"What is Rollins Chapel used for now ?"

"There are regular services through the week and on Sundays." "Do many go ?"

"I haven't been often enough of late to know. I see announced very attractive music and excellent speakers." "What is the building across the street

from the Chapel ?"

"That is Webster Hall our best assembly room for public exercises of all kinds, lectures, concerts, plays, commencement exercises. It seats 1,400 comfortably, but it is now much too small."

"It does what the Old Chapel and the meeting house used to do for us ?"

"Now as we go down College St. we have on our left the Old Row. But you know we lost the real Old Dartmouth by fire in 1904. It was sentimentally a great loss. The frame was raised in 1786 and the first room finished in 1791, but the new building is far better for the purposes of the College."

"I suppose so; but I wish I could look into the Old Chapel and see where I cut my initials on the bench."

"Reed probably has a familiar look. You remember Charley Young presided over the lower floor; the second floor was full of books of the Frater, Social and College libraries, the college books being carefully concealed; and on the third floor were the choicest rooms for students."

"I ought to remember. I was Frater librarian my senior year and I roomed above. Where are the Frater books, now ?"

"They are in the custody of the College until called for, that is, forever. We come back to Wilson Hall which we have seen before. And across the street towards the Inn is the hall built by George H. Bissell, a pioneer in the development of petroleum, in 1867 for a gymnasium. You remember it."

"I remember well, and how the boys used to slam about the balls in the six free bowling alley's on the lower floor. Where are they now ?"

"Smashed up. Taken out. Gone. Thayer School uses the building. There are eight new alleys now over where Allen's stable was formerly."

"Here we are back at the Inn. I confess I am not clear how we got here."

"Let me sum it up, for I think it isn't a bad way to get around the village, though the trip could be made longer. West along Wheelock St. to Ledyard Bridge, up Tuck Drive to Main St., south on Main St. to Lebanon, along Lebanon past College St. to Crosby, through Crosby to East Wheelock, thence to North Park and around to College St., turning into Maynard St. and passing the front of the Hospital to Rope Ferry Road, turning at the Club House of Hilton Field and passing half way around Occom Pond, crossing Choate Road and going straight to Webster Ave., following Webster Ave., to Main St. and crossing into Elm, from Elm down College St. and back to the Inn."

"I appreciate your excellence as a guide. Come back to the Inn and have dinner with me." "Nothing would give me greater pleasure."

"But tell me one thing now before you go. I am stunned by these evidences of prosperity, this magnificence of housing. When did these buildings begin to multiply so?"

"Not to go back of the times we remember, this Bissell Hall came in 1867, then Culver in 1871. There was lull until 1884 when both Rollins Chapel and Wilson Hall came into use much to the joy of President Bartlett. The trustees built the hotel in 1887 because they had to, and College Hall in 1900. The burning of Old Dartmouth in 1904 gave a fresh impetus to building. The great flock have come along recently, harvest of President Tucker's administration and tokens of confidence in President Hopkins."

"Tell me about this brilliant map of the place which the Committee on the Alumni Fund are so generously distributing."

"Very clever indeed, Philosophically its attributes art the Idealness of the Is and the Isness of the Ideal."

Looking down on Hanover now from Bartlett Tower

Looking North from Bartlett Tower

The Campus from the Library Tower

From the President's House looking East