The Vicissitudes of South Hall

If this article pleases the readers of the Alumni Magazine half as much as it pleased the editor it will be the"article of the year." It opens up quite a new field ofspeculation. The editor had thought for many years thatSouth Hall was fit for nothing better than oblivion whenits time came, but now he can not bear to think that such astorehouse of memories should ever pass out of the life ofthe College. Before it goes the way of the Chinaman'sSteps, or Hallgarten, or Butterfield, a good picture shouldbe taken of it. Men of the 1904 period will remember thebuilding as the Commercial Hotel, and after its remodelingby the College, it has been quite fully occupied by students.

THE "VICISSITUDES"

("—it has had many vicissitudes." Professor J. K.Lord, in History of the Town of Hanover.)

THE name "South Hall" has been applied to two college buildings. The earlier one to receive this name, built before 1795 and burned in 1888, was on South Main St. and was long known as the "lower hotel." It was bought by the College, sterilized and painted, and in the fall of 1868 was made a happy home for about fifteen freshmen of my class at a next-to-nothing rent.

But my dilution of Professor Lord's concise statement refers to the modern inheritor of the name, a temporary dormitory, "So" in the Directory, on the north-east corner of College and Lebanon Streets. A Methodist chapel was built there in 1840. This was purchased by the Episcopalians in 1850, sold by them to G. W. Kibling in 1872, and was passed by him to his son, G. F. Kibling. It was long known as Kibling's Opera House, a title, as one meditates upon it, fit to make even a Gorgonzola laugh.

A student thinks of his own four years in college as a golden age of clear-cut events and the rest of college history as mere duration, misty and legendary. Within those four historical years from 1868 to 1872 three future bishops of the Episcopal church, Nicholson, Leonard and Talbot, were devout attendants at the services in this building. In addition there was a more frivolous group who, not contented with literary pursuits in the College church, desired their religion in the absentia afforded by a complaisant monitorial system. When I returned to Hanover after seven years the audience room had lost all odor of piety. It had been un-dedicated, de-sanctified, or whatever is the proper term for returning a sacred building to secular purposes.

It was presumably respectable ... I first heard that phrase in the House of Commons. Mr. Balfour came in during a session and asked that the House adjourn an hour earlier than the time already set, so that some of the members could attend a garden party given by the Queen at Buckingham Palace. This request was made the occasion of much merry chaffing, or perhaps I should say spoofing, by a group of obstreperous opponents. One of them arose and said, "I should like to know who is invited to this garden party. It is presumably respectable; I say 'presumably, but I am not invited and I should like to know who is." Another concluded his remarks on the same subject, "One hour of the House's time is worth more than all the royal garden parties and all the royalties too for that matter." This naturally aroused a tumult of indignation until the erring member, having got in his little fling, calmly withdrew the obnoxious expression. After about an hour of jocose obstruction to action, Mr. Balfour apparently tipped the wink to his supporters; at any rate they oozed out one at a time until some keen parliamentarian discovered that there was no quorum. The House then adjourned.

CHEMICALLY TREATED MINSTRELS

The opera house was presumably respectable. The only audience rooms in the village were the Old Chapel and the College Church. To be sure Culver Hall was occasionally used because a stage could be put up there, though this meant walking violently over the whole faculty of Chemistry. And so for a time many shows, homemade or imported, were staged in the opera house. Along in '81 Pinafore was presented there by the young gentlemen of the College, domestically costumed. Resident ladies were highly efficient in producing feminine effects for the female parts. Rumor had it that these made-to-order charmers in the caste had great difficulty in repelling caresses when behind the scenes. I think if a sufficient reward were offered, even now after forty-eight years, Josephine and Hebe could be produced though they would not weigh in well for their parts, and possibly Little Buttercup could be found too. In 1886 Julius Caesar was given on the 18th and 19th of May with superb elocution, great glory and immense satisfaction, though many of the costumes had to be hired. Of course these performances were crude in comparison with those of the present day, lacking their splendor and professional touch, but they were the source of much enjoyment and possibly did more to develope initiative and resource. I confess without shame that I am a lover, if not a praiser, of the departed days when people, expecially young people, depended more on their own brains and hands for amusement and less upon externals which do not advance them much except through space.

In this hall too the "pale-face" minstrels made their startling first appearance. A regular minstrel troupe had been organized from the funny boys of the College, and as they expected no favors they made nearby engagements which could be met without damage to their records. But a majority of the faculty thought it unseemly that young gentlemen who were absorbing a liberal education should exhibit themselves as blackamoors, and they said so in the uncompromising manner of college faculties of those days. However preparations went on, and then a pale-face minstrel show was advertised which naturally drew a full house. And the curtain rose on ghastly whitened faces. Some thought the joke was on the faculty but the faculty saved their faces by saying, if they said anything, that they had never forbidden the use of bismuth or starch or pearl powder or any other substance having the property of whiteness; and the students said so, too.

LITTLE EVA AND THE MIKADO

Uncle Tom's Cabin was given by a traveling company (and this should not be confused with a tented show during which the audience clamored for one of our local doctors to attend the exhausted Eliza). The assembled students took more share in the action and dialogue than was appreciated by the company. Uncle Tom whose wig had been disarranged by youthful exuberance was heard to express his dissatisfaction by a hearty, "Damn the boys," and even toughened villagers sputtered with indignation. When the end came, an upward moving tableau called "The Apotheosis of Little Eva," the audience burst into apparently spontaneous song, "Empty is the cradle; baby's gone."

Perchance our modern Selections will think, if any of them read this, that these rollicking lads of four and more decades ago were lacking in true scholastic dignity. It may be that they were; but they had gone a long way from the riot and lawlessness of the early nineteenth century. They have become dependable men and remember bountifully the fostering mother.

The chronicles of the eighties show a period of prosperity for the opera house and of joy for the amusement seekers of Hanover. The class of '81 held in it their commencement ball with, it was reported, more sacrifice of elegance in the function than ennobling of the place. The Mikado was given by a roaming company, and so pleased were they by their reception that they returned in a few days and gave it again. A "Harvard Quintet" appeared, and a few days later a strolling opera company made it really an opera house. Marshall P. Wilder, a diminutive humorist acceptable for club entertainments in those days, gave his mirth-provoking stories and impersonations. "Adirondack" Murray lectured, perhaps on Deacons. Brenner & Quin's Theater Cos. put in a week. You couldn't help laughing at Peck's Bad Boy and Pa. The world-renowned Guy Brothers and the ever popular Lucius family were other educating influences.

With, growing prosperity Kibling secured funds to make extensive inprovements in his property. His foresight was marvelous, for he was ready for the Great Fire of January, 1887, which swept from the house built by Dr. Crane, a comrade of Wheelock, on the lot in front of the recent addition to the inn, through the tontine to the building now occupied by Ward's store. This fire destroyed the realm of Mrs. Frary and her husband Horace on the corner and ended an epoch in the life of Hanover and the College. Kibling promptly put out the sign "Dartmouth Hotel" on his building and Frary had another Dartmouth Hotel in the old South Hall or Lower Hotel until it was burned in '88. In June '87 our local paper reports that Kibling's house was full of transients besides accommodating forty-five regular boarders. It may be questioned what the accommodations were as the rates for a convention of Granite State Dairymen were announced as $1.25 a day or 35 cents for dinner. Even in the days of incredible cheapness of food an inn-keeper at those prices might have had to look elsewhere for profits.

HANOVER NOT DRY IN THE EIGHTIES

Now along in the middle of the eighties there was no small stir in Hanover over the sale of intoxicating liquors. This business was at that time regulated by local option, and the citizens of Hanover, whatever their private opinions, had voted by a substantial majority not to have this traffic within their borders. But in those days it was much easier to vote the town dry than to make it dry. There were several notorious establishments—bars, dives, speak-easies, saloons, or just mere groggeries, as you choose. Public meetings were held and a Law and Order League which had been asleep was aroused and told to go after them. The places were notorious; that is any one could make irresponsible complaints; but the gathering of legal evidence seemed impossible for amateurs. They could not go in and get evidence for themselves, and those in the circle of firsthand knowledge were not contributing. The League worked through an executive committee which was expected quietly and efficiently to clean up the village. The writer being a comparatively new comer to town was chosen to fill a vacant place on this committee and for various good reasons did not feel at liberty to decline the unpleasant duty.

The committee's first attack ended in a painful defeat. One of these bars was within a few rods of the hotel, and "every one knew" that it opened after midnight and closed before dawn. Hoping to catch something the committee procured a warrant to search and seize and handed it to a deputy sheriff. He said that of course he would serve the warrant but declared sadly, solemnly and emphatically that he would not know an alcoholic drink if he met it, so on his own responsibility it would be impossible for him to seize anything. This was passed around as a good one, the best of the season. The writer was added to the posse comitatus. A chemist might be expected to identify alcohol without damage to his reputation. The proprietor of the night club, doubtless warned in advance, received his visitors courteously and gave them the freedom of the place secure in the knowledge that nothing contraband could be found on his premises. This misadventure exhausted the committee for the time and they were forced to rest and think it over.

The next attempt resulted in a moderate success, and the only one for the method. The rumor that Kibling had other revenue than that from his opera house and hotel was persistent, and after the Council of Five had recovered from the shock of the previous futile raid an unadvertised descent was made on the suspected premises. The region immediately approached from the street gave no reason for suspicion. But a flight of stairs was found running down to a crypt or cellar. The first room entered was scantily equipped with bottles and a few not over clean glasses; but an inner and more exclusive apartment was the heart of the business. Here was a full-sized barrel of raw and potent alcohol of the kind that burns cheerfully, mixes well with gums to make varnish, preserves dead anatomies by abstraction of water or kills bugs. And in a cupboard was a choice collection of flavors, essences, extracts from which with the alcohol, reduced by a proper quantity of water, that is about four measures, could be made speedily gin, rum, sherry, brandy, whiskey, cordials, for all I know "horse's neck" and "white mule." Thus there were preparations for refined and delicate tastes. But most customers were satisfied with anything that had a "kick." Synthetic stuff, that was, "Such as Indian traders sell, And only fit to be drunk in—small quantities."

The data necessary to calculate the profits are not all available, but substituting guesses for some facts it is probable that this spirit let down with inexpensive water and properly flavored could not have cost more than two cents a drink making full allowance for excise tax and the labor of pumping the water; for at that time no faucets delivered water in Hanover. Samples of these alchemical concoctions and of the basic kicker were held under Yale lock in the chemical laboratory for evidence, which was never called for. Why add to the costs by expert evidence?

About this time the opera house property was transferred to G. W. Kibling the father, and a year later, June '89, restored to G. F. Kibling. The reason does not appear but the fact may be included in "vicissitudes." The property seems to have been leased in September of the same year. Kibling, doubtless grieved at the interference with his business and at the loss of his stock, moved across the river and set up business in Lewiston far from the madding crowd. He dealt in wine, dice and perhaps song. Strictly speaking his later career does not belong to the building, but to omit it would be to lose an extraordinary bit of history.

THE MEDIC DETECTIVE

This executive committee of the Law and Order League continued in trouble, though gaming in knowledge and experience of the difference between hearsay, what everyone knew, and legal evidence. At length, the committee shuddering at the novelty, but fortified by financial guarantees, actually sent to Boston for a detective to investigate the situation. He came, a strange and expensive specimen, but verily he delivered the goods. In order to explain his presence and his freedom to roam wherever he pleased he announced himself a special student in Botany. And still further to mask his purpose he was known to only one member of the committee, to whom he made his reports late in the evening. One afternoon as I was walking outside of the village I came upon a little group listening to a technical talk in a loud harsh voice from a hard-boiled person of about forty. He was dressed in imitation of the latest student fashion, of which a cute little straw hat with a bright green ribbon was the most conspicuous feature. He seemed to be lecturing upon some of the more remote phases of Botany in that raucous voice; for as I passed I caught the words, "Some say there's microbes in the air, and some say there ain't. I don't know myself." I had not known him before but I did then. What he did not find out about alcoholic hospitality for a price in Hanover and the places round about was probably not worth knowing. Lebanon was beyond Hanover jurisdiction and hopeless at the time. Temporarily, at least, Hanover became a law-abiding town. The Lewiston establishment, though doing a flourishing Hanover business, was in the state of Vermont. So the situation was brought to the notice of the prosecuting attorney of Windsor County. He expressed himself as anxious to take the matter up if furnished with information and the prospect of evidence. With an excess of lenity the proposition was made to Kibling that if he would accept judgment on four counts and close his place of unlawful business further action would be suspended. Unwisely he rejected this offer with some derision, and preparations were made for his trial in the county court at Woodstock. When the time of trial came in December a group of Hanover citizens were invited to go over as witnesses. I have never understood why they went with such apparent willingness to give evidence in another state. But a happy wagon load made a gala day of it and told the truth, or part of it. The common knowledge of the group and the presence of the detective in court made it impossible to reduce the facts beyond a weighty minimum. The examination of witnesses proceeded somewhat as follows,— Where you ever in Mr. Kibling's place in Norwich? Yes. Did you ever buy any alcoholic drink there? Yes. How often did you drink there? O, maybe once a week. And for how long a time were you there once a week? I don't know. When did you begin? About New Year's. And when were you there last? Not since Fourth of July. Twenty-six or seven times? I s'pose so.

Thirty-eight witnesses were put on the stand, moderate drinkers all; for seldom could anyone remember more than one drink a week. But the prosecuting attorney was good at arithmetic and by simple addition obtained a total of 715. "Multiplication, addition and silence" but put it on the bill. Kibling's counsel did his best to obtain a discount, but the jury without much delay said "guilty of 715 offenses." Then the court completed the arithmetical score on Christmas day, 1890, thus, For each offense, $10 $10x715 = $7150 Costs of court 164 $7314 To be worked out at thrice as many 3 days as dollars. 21,942 days And it will now be left to the mathematically minded reader to cipher out how many years would be required to work out this sentence at Rutland. It must be admitted that it was a severe sentence, but the committee of the Law and Order League had no influence on either the jury or the court.

HOYT WROTE A PLAY ABOUT IT

Hoyt's play, "A Temperance Town" was based upon, or rather suggested by, this affair; though for dramatic purposes the story diverges somewhat from the facts.

Owing to family misfortunes, Kibling was released after a few years and later pardoned; and he lived an exemplary life ever after.

During the trial the detective, who had come up from Boston for the purpose, was placed upon the stand. On the cross-examination the attorney for the defense suddenly inquired, "You are a spotter aren't you?" "No sir," was the answer to the amazement of every one in the room. In his argument the state's attorney thought it best to clear the matter up. He said, "My brother for the defense has asked one of our witnesses if he was not a spotter and received an answer in the negative. If he had been on the witness stand himself and had been asked, 'You are a shyster are you not?,' he would have replied indignantly and properly, 'No.' But if the inquiry had been, 'Are you a lawyer?' of course he would have replied, 'Yes.' I think if he had asked our witness if he was a detective, he would have received an answer in the affirmative."

This amateur committee accomplished the duty given it and for the time cleaned out the unlawful business from definite places of sale without penalty to purchasers or forcing any one to testify against his will.

The vicissitudes of this variegated building continued, though of a less exciting nature. Under the name "The Commercial Hotel," lessee Chesley maintained for some years a tavern which was seldom praised though equipped with four bowling alleys. Indeed at times it was the "object of investigation by the Hanover authorities" as Professor Lord says. And in 1920 the title passed to the Cummings Construction Company and after some alterations the building was used to accommodate their employees. In 1922 the College bought the property, refitted it for a dormitory and gave it the name earlier applied to the building on South Main St.—"South Hall." Fires have started in it several times, but, possibly to the regret of some, have been extinguished without much damage by our efficient fire fighters.

It is to be hoped that its next vicissitude will be orderly disappearance to make way for a building better suited to the rapid developement of Hanover.

PROF. EDWIN J. BARTLETT

THE MAIN STREET FIRE

THE OLD GOLDEN CORNER "

MAIN STREET BEFORE THE FIRE

LEWISTON, THE "TEMPERANCE TOWN"