Article

"I Give and Bequeath to the Trustees of Dartmouth College ..."

January 1947 STANLEY B. JONES '18
Article
"I Give and Bequeath to the Trustees of Dartmouth College ..."
January 1947 STANLEY B. JONES '18

AS A BEARDLESS UNDERGRADUATE, we gave no thought to the complicated financial machinery which kept the College going.

We supposed—if we ever supposed anything—that Dartmouth got along fine on that fresh New Hampshire air. Like a katydid. Now and then, we would see a name

on a building, and vaguely surmise that the name's owner had given the building to help the College—and also to perpetuate his name. We held a dim notion that a few immensely wealthy men left a vast amount of dough to Dartmouth, on which it lived and had its being.

This made us ignorant as well as beardless.

It is true that generous gifts have been made by benefactors of the College throughout its history. But it is also true that Dartmouth's endowment is considerably less than that of many other privately endowed colleges and universities in its own class. We are strictly not up to our hips in chips.

This relative paucity of endowment engraves the furrows you will note on the brows of Dartmouth's trustees. They are determined to make the work at Hanover at least equal in grade to that offered by others who outweigh us, financially, five and ten to one. The fact that they have succeeded is a tribute to their astute nursing of our funds. This has involved, however, untold sacrifices and expedients which, under better financial conditions, would not be considered satisfactory or even tolerable.

Even during the Big Squeeze of the early Thirties, Dartmouth managed to keep open for business. Income from investments dwindled, necessitating reduced outlay. The trustees cut their suit to fit the cloth, and many a frogskin retains a permanent stretch from the load it was forced to bear in those days.

The College needs funds. No longer can it count on drawing bequests in six figures from wealthy men who love, like, or admire Dartmouth. High taxes are making this species rare as albino alligators. Along with their unfortunate decline, the 6% interest rate on invested funds is now one with the sealskin cap and the roller towel. Right now, the best that can be figured as safe by Halsey Edgerton and Don Barr is a little over 3%.

But let us put aside these dreary thoughts and turn our stereopticon backward. Dartmouth has had some unusual benefactors, as well as some whose generosity has meant much in parlous times. We raise the glass to:

Emil Bommer of Brooklyn, N. Y. Mr. Bommer got a mad on at women for some reason which escapes research. He wanted to leave a goodly sum to a real, he-man, woman-free college, and he wanted the income from said fund to be used for the education of the malesex only .... and that said income be used for language study in the modern German, Spanish, English, and French. NO dead languages. NO competitive athletic sports. Just the said languages. And NO women.

Well, Mr. Bommer called in his lawyer and asked him if he knew of a good, heman, rugged college, with No Women messing around. The lawyer, being a Yale man, hastily said yes he did—and you can guess what institution he mentioned. So things looked rosy for the boys at New Haven.

Unfortunately for them, however, Mr. Bommer later chanced on a certain article in the newspaper. The headline: "YaleGrants Degrees to 150 Nurses, GraduatingToday." Well sir, Mr. Bommer hit the ceiling, Ka-Whapl In came the lawyer. Out went Eli. In came Dartmouth, to the tune of $534,473.83.

Christian Smith of Hanover, N. H. Many Dartmouth men of 1900 up remember Christian Smith. Mr. Smith was a tailor. He worked very hard on the habiliments of generations of students and faculty, became friends of many. When Christian Smith was gathered to his forefathers in 1935, he left a simple and a touching will.

"All I have, ($8,804.50) I leave to constitute an endowment fund The Christian Smith Fund .... the annual income thereof to be used for the benefit of the Faculty of Dartmouth College."

If there is one particular type of bequest that brings a gleam to the eyes of Dartmouth's trustees it is the "Unrestricted Endowment." This dingus puts the funds at the unrestricted disposal of the Board. Such resources have the high virtue of flexibility, which makes their use immeasurably greater than the same amount limited in its application. They may be compared to an army reserve, instantly available at the point of greatest stress, and thereby of the highest advantage. The demand for unrestricted funds for Dartmouth is paramount.... in a class by itself.

A perfect example of the unrestricted endowment or "Use It As You Will" gift is that of:

Albert O. Brown '78, Manchester, N. H. Mr. Brown worked his way through college. He served as Trustee from 1911-31. He became Governor of N. H. Through it all, Mr. Brown had Dartmouth on his mind. Once he called on Dr. Hopkins, who recalls Mr. Brown's statement: "I have an ideal always before me. I got so much from Dartmouth that I want to leave the college $1,000,000."

Mr. Brown worked hard, lived frugally. To give you an idea of the single purposeness of the man, Mrs. Brown told Dr. Hopkins: "Al was perfectly honest when he proposed to me. He told me then that his one ambition was to leave Dartmouth a million dollars, and that we would have to live accordingly." (We imagine that Mrs. B. related this anecdote with something of a wry smile.) In any event, when Mr. Brown died in he did leave $1,000,000.

Unfortunately taxes and specific legacies came first. The million had melted somewhat by the time it reached the Trustees' quivering hands. But out of respect to Mr. Brown's devotion, the Trustees decided not to touch either principal or income until the latter should build the fund up to the one million which Albert O. Brown had long envisioned. This ideal has now been reached.

Occasionally, circumstances tend to make the exact fulfillment of a donor's wishes a little difficult, if not impossible. As, for instance, in the endowment of:

Benjamin F. Barge, Mauch Chunk, Pa. Mr. Barge left a sum of $2500. for the founding of a prize to be known as "The Benjamin F. Barge Gold Medal for Oratory." The medal— to the value of $100. "shall be awarded annually, in perpetuity, to that scholar of the senior class.... who shall write and pronounce in public an English oration in the best manner." Precise specifications were to be observed for the manufacture of the medal which "shall be awarded after a public competition presided over by three persons, selected annually one a member of the Faculty or an Alumnus .... another a Law Judge selected by the Faculty. These two shall select the third.

"Two printed copies of the winning oration shall be annually delivered to Benjamin F. Barge as long as he lives and after his decease to his next of kin, etc. The die for the medal shall be furnished by Benjamin F. Barge, but in consideration thereof the Trustees shall have four replicas in bronze struck each year .... one to be preserved by the College, three delivered to B.F.B. and after his decease to his next of kin or to such person or persons, etc."

The Trustees acknowledged the bequest in 1901, and did indeed succeed in carrying out the involved conditions for many years. "We have dozens of these bronze replicas stacked up here," said Treasurer Edgerton. "We have, unfortunately, even observed some in the windows of pawnshops. Eventually, however, the last medal sent out to Mr. Barge's next of kin was returned marked: 'Removed and Left NoAddress.' We were—shall I say—somewhat relieved." Happily, the dollar value of oratory seems to have declined, save in politics and on the Chatauqua circuit.

Another legacy that may make things a little tough for the administrators is the: Russell T. and Olive V. Bartlett Memorial, of Haverhill, N. H. Mr. Bartlett was a member of the class of 1894. After the death of Mrs. Bartlett, the income from the fund was left to the College under these conditions. The beneficiary ....

"1. Must be a graduate of a four-year course in one of the high schools of Haverhill or Bath.

2. He must be in need of assistance.

3. No student shall have the use of this fund who uses cigarettes .... so firmly am I opposed to the use of cigarettes that.... the proven use of ONE cigarette by a beneficiary under this fund shall deprive him of all further assistance therefrom."

We do not know how conditions are among the Hanover hopefuls in Haverhill or Bath today. But we warn them, here and now, to step well behind the barn before they touch up a Camel. Remember, ONE cigarette

One of the most touching testimonials of man's love for his fellow man was received by Dr. Hopkins in 1921. "The Invincible Debating Society of the Carlisle Indian School sent me a check for $138.99," said Hoppy.

"It happened that the school had pledged $200 toward the purchase of Liberty Bonds. A $100 bond was purchased, and $30.50 had been placed in the bank when the Carlisle Indian School was abolished. (ED.: what did they run out of— Indians or money?) The Invincibles, having realized the dire possibility of this contingency before the bonds should have ripened, provided, in such event, that the bonds should go to the President of Dartmouth College where they should be used, at his discretion, in aiding some Indian boy to secure an education at Dartmouth. We accepted the gift most gratefully."

No rambling sketch like this could be considered even partially complete without mention of Dartmouth's greatest friend and benefactor: Edward Tuck.

Mr. Tuck, of the class of 1862, was heart- broken when turned down upon volunteering for service in the Civil War. Determined to serve his country in some capacity, Mr. Tuck secured a consular appointment to France. He arrived in Paris at approximately the same moment as the bullets signalizing the Commune were pocking the walls of his offices.

After the Civil War (the American one) ended, Mr. Tuck secured employment as Manager of a New York bank in Paris. So well did he discharge his duties that he later became American Adviser on U. S. investments to the French Government. The first of Mr. Tuck's gifts to Dartmouth was made in 1899. It took the form of a $300,000 Endowment Fund to be known as "the Amos Tuck Endowment Fund, in memory of my father who graduated in the Class of 1835 and who was a Trustee of the College from 1857 to 1866."

This sum was used to inaugurate the Amos Tuck School of Business Administration. In 1904 Mr. Tuck wrote to President Tucker (his roommate at Hanover):

"No institution within its limits has brought to the State of New Hampshire .... such credit and honor as has Dartmouth College. We, the loyal sons of New Hampshire, can give no better evidence of our undiminished affection .... that in honoring the College and helping as best we may to so fortify its position that its future may be worthy of its glorious past."

Mr. Tuck's devotion to Dartmouth's welfare ran right across the board. He left funds whose income was applied to raising the salaries of the Faculty, to adapting Bissell Hall to the requirements of the Thayer School, to the cancellation of the College deficit for the year 1912. A characteristic Tuck reply to a letter from a Trustee, 1919:

"...the photos and blue print you send me show distinctly that the capacity of Tuck Hall could be considerably and usefully enlarged. You ask me what you shall say to the Trustees relative to remodelling. My answer is 'FIRE AWAYI' I will respond to the extent of $30,000. which you mention as the limit of the estimate."

Another, lifted from a letter to Treasurer Edgerton, June 7, 1929:

"The President wrote me before sailing that sale of my 600 shares of Chase Bank Stock had realized $569,766.50. I dislike vulgar fractions. I wish to make the total amount of cash contributed by me towards the expense of building the new Tuck School plant as an even $575,000. I therefore enclose my cheque for $5,233.50 which will complete the round amount to be reported as my contribution, in your books."

Dr. Hopkins knew Mr. Tuck well. From this rewarding friendship come some interesting sidelights, as recalled by Hoppy:

"When Mr. Tuck retired to live at his magnificent home, Malmaison, it was a great treat to call there. Important men from all over the world could be found at the dinner table. On one occasion I sat between Foch and Clemenceau. Across the table was a Chinese Mandarin, flanked by the British ambassador and a Dartmouth ambulance driver. I think that Mr. Tuck would have come back to America to live save for one circumstance which laid a blight on the whole country at the time. I refer to Prohibition. It insulted Mr. Tuck's strongly-held feelings regarding the rights and privileges of American citizens."

Mr. Tuck was a kindly man, concerned as to the welfare of those around him. Before he died, he pensioned for life all those who had worked for him. His loyalty to Dartmouth is a living reminder in the Tuck Endowment Fund, the Tuck Dormitories & Refectory Fund, the Tuck Fund for Tuck Hall, the Tuck Fund for the President's House, and the Tuck Drive Fund.

In 1930, a fund of $10,000 was given to the College by the Class of 1879. The purpose to which the income from the fund was to be put was stated in brief as follows:

"During the Commencement season last year, when the Class of 1879 celebrated its fiftieth anniversary, a programme of music by trumpeters from the Library tower was presented.

"The Class of 1879 desires that such a programme shall become an annual, and in time, a traditional custom of the College and a perpetual memorial to the Class of 1879. A required part of every annual programme shall be the 'Sing-out' tune 'Amesbury'

If and when the trumpeters may be referred to in programmes or other College publications, they shall be called the 'Class of '79 Trumpeters.' When rendering the 'Sing-out' they shall dress in cap and gown. Preferably, there shall be eight trumpeters "

The trumpeters do their stuff at Commencement from the library tower. Every year some of the throng of seniors and their folks, consulting their programs, admire the hardihood of those venerable "Class of '79 Trumpeters."

Thousands of Dartmouth men have given their lives for their country. They have been represented in every major conflict. Parents have erected touching monuments to their fallen sons in the form of endowment funds. A representative one is the:

William L. Baker Memorial, a legacy by Mrs. Caroline Lawrence of West Winsted, Conn., mother of William Baker of the class of 1858. " to the Chandler Scientific school connected with Dartmouth College .... one thousand dollars for the endowment of the 'William L. Baker Scholarship' in memory of a dear son who fell in the battle of Antietam."

Another:

Fred De Merritte Barker Memorial, a gift by Augustine V. Barker of the class of 1872, of Bradentown, Fla. "This fund of $20,000. is for the maintenance of a Graduate Fellowship under such regulations as the Trustees may .... direct,. and is given in memory of my son Lieutenant Fred De Merritte Barker, A.R.C., who was killed at Fleville, France, October 14, 1918."

A sobering reminder of tragedy so lately brought to many brave men who have loved the college on the hill:

Robert V. Yeuell Memorial Scholarships, now amounting to $10,000 and to be increased by later gifts, established by E. V. Yeuell of Maiden, Mass., in memory of his son of the Class of 1939. "Our objective primarily is to keep Bob's memory green always (Dartmouth green) and in a small way to ever remind us now is the time to make that better world he lost his life fighting for."

In addition to much-needed, unrestricted funds, gifts for specific purposes, and financial aid to deserving students, the College has been the startled recipient of almost every known variety of personal possession.

"We have received collections of stuffed birds in glass cases," says Halsey Edgerton, "furniture and books by the ton. We have fallen heir to medical instruments, watches, and to all sorts of jewelry. Needless to say, the College accepts gifts gratefully— though some are difficult to store, and others are hard to dispose of."

Though Mr. Edgerton did not say so, there are certain types of funds which are not in the highest possible favor with the Trustees, though they are forever thankful for the thought which prompted them. Here is an example. A member of a class which graduated right after the Civil War left $1500 to the College—with one staggering stipulation:

".... this is to provide the nucleus of a fund which is to grow by compounded income, interest, and profit accumulations, for one hundred and fifty years.... during the said period of its growth neither principal nor interest shall be used for any purpose whatsoever, other than the cautious and skillful investment and reinvestment, as occasion may require."

Another long haul proposition, even more involved was the:

Chase Wiggin "Accumulating Scholarship," a legacy by Chase Wiggin of the Class of 1842 of the Medical School, of Providence, R. I. In October, 1896, the College received $2000. This sum was to be . securely invested and its income to be applied as follows:—One third of the interest to be added to the principal annually, until such principal shall amount to the sum of One Hundred Thousand Dollars (Ed: Brother!) .... No person shall receive any part of, or assistance from, this bequest, who is addicted to the use of intoxicating drinks or tobacco in any of its forms; and all recipients of its benefits will be expected to use their influence to discourage the use of tea and coffee as a beverage."

Mr. Wiggin further hexed up the good Trustees by stating that preference should always be given to the descendants of his father, and topped it off with this paralyzing paragraph:

"Should a woman descendant apply for admission, and should the by-laws not permit her entrance, then she should enter some other college and said Dartmouth College shall pay over to her, annually, the same sum she would be entitled to from the income of this bequest, provided she had been permitted to enter and pursue her studies in said Dartmouth College."

It is gifts like this which whiten a Trustee's hair prematurely, as you can well imagine. We brought them to your attention for a purpose, to wit:

If any of you should ever feel like leaving a few potatoes to the good grey college —Don't Fence 'Em In! Let 'em go to work where they're needed.

"....Mr. B. hit the ceiling ka-whop!"

"....dozens of unclaimed bronze replicas."

"....the College receives some unusualgifts."

Who leaves money to Dartmouth? Why? How? Some odd and interesting sidelights on past benefactors.