The Special Collections and University Archives (SCUA) has installed a new exhibit in their Reading Reading which features items from its artifact collection. Each member of the SCUA staff was given the chance to select one item from the artifact collection and write a short description about it.
A misconception about many special collections and archives is that they collect a large amount of 3-d objects, more commonly called artifacts. An archives main focus is the collecting preserving and providing access to documents, photos, moving image, sound recordings and books. Artifacts commonly enter into museum collections as this is their dedicated purpose and have space dedicated to store and display these items.
This distinction is true to how SCUA operates here at ISU, with our collections being made up of over 17,000 linear feet of documents, 20,000 audio-visual items, 50,000 rare volumes, and 1,000,000 still images (photos, slides, negatives). Yet, SCUA does have an artifact collection that consists of nearly 4,000 items.
As mentioned above, artifacts are not an area that we focus on collecting. So, why have we, and why do we continue to collect some artifacts? When we do decide to bring an artifact it is because it documents an important aspect of the university’s history, or shows an important aspect of history related to our manuscript collecting area.
Please visit SCUA Monday through Thursday, 10am-4pm to view the new exhibit.
Sports have been engrained in college life in the United States since the early 1860s, and in those early years the sport of choice was baseball. It was no different on the Ames campus where games were played between classes, students and faculty, and exhibitions with other Iowa colleges.
In March 1892 Iowa Agricultural College (Iowa State University), the State University (University of Iowa), Grinnell College, and Drake University joined together to form the Iowa Intercollegiate Baseball Association (IIBBA), and a year later Cornell College joined the league. A $40 silver bat was purchased to keep the competitive spirits burning with each yearly state champion to temporarily retain the bat, and permanently if a team kept it for three consecutive years.
Silver Bat, ca. 1892, Artifact Collection, 2005-R010
The inaugural season of the IIBBA in 1892 saw IAC capture the silver bat, through wins over Grinnell 8-5, Drake 20-1, and State University 10-2. They also played two games against Highland Park College of Des Moines, winning both. The 1893 season started with IAC visiting Mt. Vernon for a game against Cornell College, which IAC won 20-5. Their next two league games saw losses to Grinnell (16-4) and UI (5-4) before finishing out league play with a 16-2 win versus Drake. Additional research shows that all of the teams in the league suffered two losses, with the exception of Grinnell who appears to have only lost to Cornell. Grinnell additionally made claims that the Drake and UI teams brought in ringers; pro players who had not been enrolled in college classes. Interestingly though, league officials couldn’t decide on a league champion, and the bat stayed with IAC.
Close up of engraving of Silver Bat, ca. 1892, Artifact Collection, 2005-R010
The 1894 season only saw IAC play one league game as they struggled to field a team after losing most of the starters from the previous season, and were soundly beaten by Grinnell 29-8. Grinnell having won all other league games obtained the silver bat. It would be 10 years before it would return to Iowa State’s possession. The 1903 season saw Iowa State and Grinnell both enter the season finale with 4-1 records, but rainy weather prevented a game to be played. Initially it was agreed that a game would be played in the fall to decide the conference champion, but Grinnell pulled out of the agreement under the premise that the players were committed to the football team and couldn’t be torn away to play a baseball game. They ended up playing a championship game in May 1904 with Iowa State winning 11-0. The 1904 season would see Iowa State go undefeated in league play and retain the bat.
By spring of 1905 tensions in the IIBBA were starting to surface again. At a manager’s meeting in February University of Iowa representatives suggested conference rules, which prohibited professionalism. Specifically, UI officials were looking at Iowa State ace pitcher and team captain Charles “Buster” Brown, who like many other players during those days played semi-pro or pro ball during the off-season. Ironically there were a number of U of Iowa players who had professional ties, but they felt these players were not at the level of Brown, who was believed to have Major League potential (in fact, he would go on to play with the St. Louis Cardinals, Philadelphia Phillies, and Boston Braves). UI threatened to withdraw from the league if Brown were allowed to play, following through before the season started, joined by Cornell. Ironically, Brown missed much of the season battling an illness.
Charles “Buster” Brown, The Bomb, 1907, LD 2548 Io9b
With the essential folding of the IIBBA, and with Iowa State having been the holders of the bat from the previous season, the bat remained in Iowa State possession. Questions arose on the owners of the bat, and it was placed in a vault in Beardshear Hall by Treasurer Herman Knapp. For close to the next 30 years, the bat was lost to the annals of history until a story in the April 1935 issues of The Alumnus brought the bat back to light, though it again soon slipped from the collective memory. In 1980, work began on the installation of an automated filing system in the vault, and the silver bat was unearthed and eventually made its was to Special Collections and University Archives. Additional information can be found in the Iowa State University Baseball records (RS 24/4).
Closeup engravings of silver bat winners, ca. 1892, Artifact Collection, 2005-R010
Engravings on Silver Bat:
IAC 1893
IAC 1894*
SUI 1895
Grinnell 1896
Grinnell 1897
Cornell 1898
Grinnell 1899
SUI 1900
SUI 1901
Grinnell 1902
* The 1894 engraving does not match up with the historical record, which shows that Grinnell won the bat that year. Additionally, the 1892 and the 1903-1904 champions are missing from the bat.
This post is about two important elements of archival practice: trying things and writing them down
Writing things down is, unsurprisingly, an important part of archival work. The one thing all archives have in common is that no two are alike: archives collect unique materials, and every archive has its own set of collecting, preservation, and access concerns and priorities, which they address from within a broadly uniform theoretical framework. What that means is that, while we use certain tools (both intellectual and technological) and follow certain professional standards and practices, how we enact and apply them varies from place to place. And what that means is that trying things and writing them down is a crucial part of working in an archive, and that’s true whether it’s a community archive preserving the history of a local theater, a university or government archive collecting public records, or a corporate archive maintaining design and manufacturing specifications.
One example of trying things and writing them down as archival practice here at SCUA is how we catalog artifacts. To keep track of these three-dimensional objects (we have a lot of buttons), we use a software called Past Perfect, which was developed for use in museums. It lets us create records for artifacts, attach pictures, track where they are in our storage (or on display in an exhibit, out for preservation, etc), and export inventories– like the searchable PDF catalog on our website. There’s a manual for the software which details how to input information, how to save records, etc– basic software functions– but what it doesn’t, and can’t, tell us is how we want to use the software. Since Past Perfect was designed to support a broad range of institutions, it has a lot more options and features than we even need, and the interface can be pretty overwhelming, which was only part of the problem. The issue we found was that not enough of the artifacts in our collection had records, and the records were inconsistent, mostly because the existing instructions for cataloging artifacts weren’t very thorough and there wasn’t a clear workflow to follow.
How do we decide which fields are important for our artifacts, what kind of language to use in the descriptions, and what the standard cataloging procedure should be? That’s where trying things comes in. In order to develop a SCUA-specific manual for creating artifact records with Past Perfect, we had to take a look at what kind of records had been made before, what kind of artifacts we had, and what we thought was important to capture: most of all, though, we had to try cataloging artifacts. Every time we made a decision– enter the date of creation like this, use this term first to describe this kind of object– we wrote it down. Every time we took an action, we wrote it down. Eventually, we had a list of steps and directions for using Past Perfect to create the kind of records we want to have for the kind of objects SCUA holds. And then the testing began… There’s a manual now, with screenshots, that lays out the process so that anyone can do it and get the expected result.
This came up as a part of a larger project reviewing how we handle artifacts. Examining the artifact catalog, it became obvious that the existing procedures hadn’t been working and we needed a new approach. This is fairly common in an archive: a task becomes a bottleneck, or a procedure hasn’t been kept up to date, and creates a problem that needs to be solved inside the archive’s existing systems. Changing our approach is often a lot easier than acquiring (and training on, and migrating information to) a new tool for doing it. In this case, we already had Past Perfect, and Past Perfect was designed for the job, it just wasn’t being used consistently and to its potential. Fully documenting the workflow, the expected outcome, and our decision-making process in a manual solved the problem (not enough artifacts had records, and the records weren’t consistent) and also created a means to update that manual as needed.
We tried some things, and once we had tried enough things, we wrote them down, and now there’s a resource that anyone in the department, from a student worker to the next University Archivist, can pick up and use– or change, if it needs to be changed.
All this contributes to the life of the archive, both in shaping how materials are handled and made available, and becoming a record of how the people who work here do their work, what they’re passionate about, what they’ve changed and why. It’s the sort of work that supports all the rest of the work we do, not just now but for years to come. Which, given that our job is to preserve, make available, and store materials in the holdings for future generations, is sort of important.
Earlier this year, I had the opportunity to learn a little bit more about some historical photography processes while preparing to teach a class. This is not in any way my area of expertise, but I wanted to share both what I learned and also examples I uncovered in our ISU collections (which, while far from comprehensive, do contain more formats than I thought they would!).
If this is a topic you find interesting, know that there are a ton of other fantastic resources out there, both online and within our library and the ISU community. I’ll include a few of these throughout the post and then note more at the end.
So, the earliest format for which we have an example is the daguerreotype. (Pronounced duh-gair-oh-type.)
Artifact #2001-R001. Daguerreotype of Benjamin Gue.
Daguerreotypy was not the first photographic process to capture scenes with a camera, nor even the first to succeed in permanently fixing the image to a chemically-prepared surface. The latter honor belongs to another French process called “heliography” (aka “sun-writing”), and you can see an example in the Harry Ransom Center collections at the University of Texas in Austin. However, the daguerreotype process was the first to become available to the public.
With the case closed. Artifact #2001-R001.
The daguerreotype was invented in Paris in 1837 by Louis Daguerre, when he discovered that a silver-coated copper plate could be made light sensitive when exposed to chloride of iodine (now known as iodine monochloride) and chloride of bromine (now known as bromine monochloride). After exposure, the plate would be developed in a dark room via heated mercury fumes, and then fixed in a bath of hyposulphite of soda (now known as sodium thiosulfate).
There were two main draw-backs to this process, however. The first, since the exposed plate itself became the finished product, was that the process created no negatives, which meant that each image was entirely unique and could not be reproduced. The second was that these plates were incredibly fragile. The cases in which they were mounted were primarily protective, not decorative, and thus, unlike photo frames of today, vital to the photograph’s survival.
Diagram of a daguerreotype case. Photographs: Archival Care and Management by Mary Lynn Ritzenhaler and Diane Vogt-O’Connor
In addition, exposure time for this process lasted an excruciatingly long time by today’s standards. Resources differ in their estimations, and it seems that the process shortened over its lifespan, but exposure could reportedly last anywhere between 90 seconds and 20 minutes, during which the subject of the picture had to keep absolutely still. Behind-the-scenes sketches of the studio set-up often feature torturous-looking headrest devices, shaped like display stands for collectible dolls, to hold the subject’s head and neck in place.
Nevertheless, the daguerreotype was wildly popular during its short life from 1837 to about 1860, after which it was replaced by less expensive and less cumbersome formats.
This 2012 YouTube video from the Getty Museum offers a fantastic overview of that period and allows you to see the process in action. The video is titled “Early Photography: Making Daguerreotypes”, and can be accessed through the link here if the embedded version isn’t work for you.
Our ISU example of a daguerreotype, located in the artifacts collection (#2001-R001), aptly demonstrates some key identifying features of the format.
A behind-the-scenes look in into our artifact collection.
As discussed previously, with only a few rare and very early exceptions, all daguerreotypes will be contained in a protective case, often with an attached cover that swings closed on a hinge.
It is worth noting, however, that while nearly all daguerreotypes will have these protective cases, not all photographs contained in such cases are daguerreotypes. Ambrotypes, a slightly later format, were also typically sealed in cases. The visual distinction between the two, then, lies in the tonal range and the reflective quality of the surface.
An ambrotype is a glass plate negative developed via the wet collodion process and then displayed against a black velvet background, which creates the illusion of a positive image. Consequently, its tonal range will be much more muted than that of a daguerreotype, with the whites appearing less white and more of a creamy gray.
Unfortunately, we don’t have examples of this format in our archives, but here is a visual from the book I have referenced previously:
Ambrotype. Photographs: Archival Care and Management by Mary Lynn Ritzenhaler and Diane Vogt-O’Connor, page 35.
Because ambrotypes are negative images developed on a glass plate and daguerreotypes are positive images developed on a silver-coated copper plate (i.e. shiny metal on shiny metal), the surface of a daguerreotype is also much more reflective than that of an ambrotype — almost giving the impression of a ghost-image emerging through a mirror, depending on the angle from which it is viewed.
Me photobombing Benjamin Gue . . . about 200 years after the fact. Artifact #2001-R001.
The presence of this mirror-like quality also means that daguerreotypes are better viewed from a side-angle, and/or with an object or piece of paper held up to block reflective glare (e.g. my phone in the picture immediately above), than they are straight on. So, if you find yourself tilting the photo this way and that to see an image of something other than your own face, this is probably the format you are dealing with.
Contrary to common knowledge, daguerreotypes also come in a variety of sizes, from a “whole plate,’ which is about 8.5 inches by 6.5 inches, to a “sixteenth plate,” which is about 1 inch by 1 inch. Also, while the original images will all be in black and white, you’ll find that some were hand-colored after development. You’ll see this most often in portraits, where a tiny bit of pink has been dabbed onto the subjects’ cheeks to make them look more lifelike.
Close-up of Artifact #2001-R001.
And that about wraps things up, so I hope you’ve enjoyed learning about daguerreotypes as much as I did.
If you’d like to examine our portrait of Benjamin Gue in person, feel free to stop by the archives any time that we are open, and we can assist you with the process of handling such an artifact (hint: you’ll be using gloves!). Or if you’d like to learn more, check out some of the resources below.
Benjamin Gue’s personal papers can be found in the archives at RS 1/3/52. You can also view the finding aid, including biographical information, here.
The book with which I supplemented images to this post is Photographs: Archival Care and Management by Mary Lynn Ritzenhaller and Diane Vogt-O’Connor with Helena Zinkham, Brett Carnell, and Kit Peterson. We do not have a copy in our general collections, but you can access reviews here, or buy a copy here.
In addition to an extensivecollection of the daguerreotype format (contrasted with our one artifact!), the Library of Congress links to more online resources here, describing the process in more detail, showing digitized examples, and inviting you to join The Daguerreian Society (because, yes, apparently that is a thing).
If you have additional questions about identifying, storing, handling, or repairing historical photograph formats, the staff in our Preservation department at Parks Library are very knowledgeable. Both Sonya Barron and Cynthia Kapteyn helped me out with preparation and activities for the class which inspired this post. You can visit the Preservation department page here for contact information. And, as a side note, they also run a blog, full of fascinating updates on current projects, which you can find here.
This month’s collaborative post highlights items from our Artifact Collection related to food. After all, one of the key components of this holiday season is celebrating with food. We hope you enjoy these collection highlights from our Artifact Collection.
Teacup and Saucer (Artifact 2001-R160.001)
Top view of teacup and saucer (Artifact 2001-R160.001)
Amy Bishop, Rare Books and Manuscripts Archivist
I was drawn to this teacup and saucer because my mom and grandma both collected tea cups. I used to love examining the patterns of all the different teacups in my mom’s china cabinet when I was growing up and feeling the thinness of the fine bone china they were made of. This particular teacup and saucer in our artifact collection belonged to the mother of H. Summerfield Day, University Architect (1966-1975) and Planning Coordinator (1975-1980). It was collected and donated to the archives by a former library employee in the Cataloging Department, Dennis Wendell.
Wooden cheese box (Artifact 1999-013.001)
Wooden cheese box (Artifact 1999-013.001)
Chris Anderson, Descriptive Records Project Archivist
This wooden cheese box is interesting because it’s much sturdier than I would expect. It’s only 9.25” wide, so card stock would have sufficed. I think it would make a cool pencil box. Pasteurized process cheese is not my favorite kind, but I have such high regard for cheese that I can’t help liking the box. “Process cheese” notwithstanding, it was an ISC product so it was probably of exceptional quality. I’m inspired to make grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup this weekend.
Wax Apples (Artifact 2008-153.001)
Artifact 2008-153
Laura Sullivan, Collections Archivist
I have chosen the bowl of wax apples, originally shown at the 1876 Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia, as this month’s food-related artifact. I had heard of its existence here, but had never had the opportunity to see these first-hand until working on an artifact housing project earlier this year. I was amazed at how shiny and fresh these 140-year-old wax apples looked, and at the same time being terrified of causing damage to these amazing artifacts! Colonel G. B. Bracket, who created the wax apples for the Iowa State Horticultural Society’s exhibit, received a gold medal for the wax Iowa apples. The apples represent the 300 varieties of apples grown in Iowa at the time.
Iowa State milk carton (from Accession 2014-312)
This milk carton came in with accession 2014-312. It has not yet been assigned an artifact number in our artifact database. Note the illustration of the Food Sciences Building, originally known as the Dairy Industry Building, on the front of the carton.
Brad Kuennen, University Archivist
In a slight departure from the theme of food for this week’s blog, I have selected this Iowa State milk carton as it represents a long history of producing dairy products at Iowa State. This milk carton would have been filled with milk during the 1960s, but the dairy program at Iowa State began much earlier than that. Iowa State started operating a creamery in the 1880s to provide a place to store and process milk and dairy products for the benefit of the students and staff of Iowa State. Any milk left over was processed into butter and sold to the neighborhood surrounding the school. Of course, in those days milk was not delivered in attractive paper cartons like this! In 2007 Iowa State renewed its support of the dairy industry in Iowa when it opened a new dairy farm south of campus. Although the days of Iowa State selling its own milk are long gone, you can still buy homemade ice cream from students in the Dairy Science Club as they carry on the tradition of preparing dairy products on the Iowa State campus.
Kenyan Fat Pot, 1944 (Artifact 2010-009.005)
Kenyan Fat Pot (Artifact 2010-009.05)
Side view of Kenyan Fat Pot (2010-009.005)
Associated notes for Kenyan Fat Pot
Whitney Olthoff, Project Archivist
One of the most fascinating food-related artifacts we have is a fat pot from Kenya. According to the catalog record, this pot was “used for collecting the fat from meat as a result of cooking or for cosmetic purposes by the natives of the Turkana-Tribe from Northern Kenya.” This doesn’t sound all that different from what we do in America today, in which we collect the drippings from meat to make gravy or broth. The pot is made of wood, twine, and leather, with a leather cap. I suppose this item intrigues me largely because we don’t have a lot of artifacts from around the world, and I don’t know of any other African artifacts in our collections. It’s associated with the Shirley Held Papers (RS 26/2/53). Held was a faculty member of what is now the College of Design.
ISU Beer Can (Artifact 2012-207.002)
Cyclone Beer can (Artifact 2012-207.002)
Top view of can (Artifact 2012-0207.002)
Picture of Cy holding a mug of beer on this side of can (Artifact 2012-207.002)
Rachel Seale, Outreach Archivist
I was browsing items in our internal artifact database and was tickled to see this beer can. Believe it or not, this is just one can of at least three other beer cans I could have selected that we have in our collection. I picked this can because it includes an image of Cy. I feel like I can justify selecting beer as a food-related artifact because, to some, it is food. All kidding aside, beer can be enjoyed with food just like wine and it even enhances some food. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that pretzels or nuts are often served with beer. Below is the description of the beer can from the catalog:
The can is a gold color, with red and black lettering. There is an image of Cy holding a mug of beer in one hand, and a football in the other. On the can itself reads, in red lettering, “CYCLONE BEER.” Underneath the slogan, there is black lettering that reads, “Not associated with Iowa State University.” There is a makers mark that describes the nature of where the beer was brewed and canned. On the top of the can reads: “Iowa Refund, 5 c.” There is still liquid inside of the can.
This image is of a chocolate pot and two cups which carries the mark of Wheelock China, a large Midwestern importing firm which flourished from 1855 until the early 1920s. Wheelock is best known for their souvenir china, depicting local scenes and buildings and marketed to tourists. Most of their products were imported from Germany. These items are marked with the Wheelock Imperial Eagle stamp, which was used on china the company imported from Austria.
Photograph of Shirley Held ca. 1950s (University Photographs RS 26/2/A)
The chocolate pot belonged to Shirley Held, a member of Iowa State’s Art and Design faculty for more than thirty years. She received a B.S. in Home Economics Education from Iowa State in 1945. Following graduation, she taught home economics in several towns in northwest Iowa. She returned to graduate school at Iowa State, earning the M.S. in Home Economics-Applied Art in 1951. After a year teaching at Utah State College, she returned to Iowa State as a member of the Applied Art faculty, teaching design, lettering, weaving, and wood and metal crafts. Weaving was her true calling, and she was the author of Weaving: Handbook of the Fiber Crafts, which was published in 1973, with a second edition in 1978. Her pieces were exhibited both in Iowa and nationally, and she promoted the art of weaving through workshops and lectures. She received a faculty citation in 1979 in recognition of her long and outstanding service to the University. Active locally as a member of the Ames Choral Society and the Collegiate United Methodist Church Chancel Choir, she also participated in community theater, both acting and designing costumes for a number of productions. She retired from Iowa State in 1990, and passed away in 2014.
Today’s blog post is a collaborative blog post, from several Special Collections and University Archives (SCUA) staff, about the artifacts that give us the most thrills and chills. Some staff interpreted this as the spookiest artifact and some as the coolest most exciting artifact. Whatever the interpretation, here are the artifacts that give us the most chills and thrills.
Quartz Fiber Balance
Quartz Fiber Balance (Artifact #2003-2-3.003)
From Amy Bishop, Rare Books & Manuscripts Curator
I nominate the Quartz Fiber Balance (artifact number 2003-203.003) from the Harry J. Svec Papers (RS 13/6/53) as the most thrilling artifact in our collections. Why the thrill? This particular balance, created by Svec as the ISU chemistry department’s glassblower, was used in Ames as part of the Manhattan Project during World War II. The thought of the Manhattan Project always gives me mixed thrills and chills. Thrills from the thought of cutting-edge, top secret scientific research. Chills because of the purpose and ultimate conclusion of the Manhattan Project: atomic bombs, two of which were dropped on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, killing horrific numbers of people. And of course what that led to – the nuclear arms race of the Cold War and the proliferation of nuclear weapons around the world.
Also thrilling, though, is to think of the skill of an ISU graduate student who worked as a glassblower, creating by hand precise apparatus for chemical experiments. To quote from the item’s catalog record: “The balance mechanism inside is entirely quartz and balances on a thin quartz thread. This mechanism is very delicate and is sensitive to one-millionth of a gram. Up to one gram of material can be held on each end.” Very impressive indeed. See more about the Ames Project in the Ames Laboratory Records.
General Geddes Sword (1827)
General Geddes Sword (Artifact #2015-R003)
From Chris Anderson, Descriptive Records Project Archivist
James Lorraine Geddes (1827-1887) led an adventurous life before his association with Iowa Agricultural College. Born in Scotland, he also lived in Canada and India before settling in the United States. In India, served in the Royal Horse Artillery of the British Army. In this capacity he distinguished himself in the ongoing Anglo-Afghan conflicts in Punjab and the Khyber Pass. He retired a Colonel in 1857 and moved to a farm in Iowa. This peaceful interval did not last long, however. He fought for the Union in the U.S. Civil War, beginning as a private and rising to the rank of Brevet Brigadier General (1865). After the war he returned to Vinton, Iowa. His many achievements in higher education were to follow (1867-1887).
His sword, therefore, makes me think of dire battles. Our information associates the year 1827 with the sword, which is puzzling – Geddes was born in that year.
Candelabra
Candelabra from Gravesend Manor (uncataloged)
From Becky Jordan, Reference Specialist
We received this along with other WOI materials when the television station moved out of the Communications Building.
This was a prop from Gravesend Manor—a television program that aired late on Saturday nights on WOI-TV. They showed horror films with local staff doing introductions and intermissions. Some of the characters were Malcom the Butler (Ed Weiss), the Duke of Desmodus (James Varnum), Claude (Ron Scott) and Esmerelda (John Voight). My best recollections of the show are from slumber parties. It was generally enjoyed with pop and pizza—made from a kit that came in a box—and a lot of giggling.
For the most thrilling artifact, I’ve picked metal shrapnel from World War I (2004-179.001 and .002). These pieces came from MS 666, the Fred O. Gordon Papers. Gordon fought in Europe in Battery F, 119th Field Artillery from 1918-1919 and was wounded in October 1918. The shrapnel pieces are thick, solid metal, and I can only imagine the sheer force of the explosion(s) that would’ve blown them apart. Not to mention the damage those pieces could have inflicted if they had hit someone. The act of seeing and holding authentic shrapnel from WWI makes the war and its horrors feel more real, and that’s definitely thrilling.
Tornado Souvenir
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From Rachel Seale, Outreach Archivist
My most thrilling artifact is a piece of wood, birch bark. It was found near Margaret Hall in the summer of 1924. Hand written lettering on the piece of birch bark: “Tornado Souvenir June 28, 1924[.] From Tree near Margaret Hall I.S.C. Ames, Iowa.” I selected this item because I am new to the Midwest and have been a little fixated on weather, particularly weather conditions that may favor a tornado. I can’t imagine anything more thrilling and scarier than a tornado.
Margaret Stanton’s Death Mask
Death Mask of Margaret Stanton (Artifact 2001-R130)
From Petrina Jackson, Head of SCUA
Hands down, Margaret Stanton’s death mask, for me, is our most macabre artifact. Popular through the nineteenth century, death masks were created as a commemoration or a way to create a portrait or sculpture of the dead. Death masks were usually made for people who were held in high esteem, which is a testimony of how beloved Margaret Stanton was to the Iowa State community. Although uncommon today, creating death masks, taking photographs of the dead lying in state, or weaving their hair into wreaths or jewelry were all ways that people honored the deceased in the past. With death far more removed from day-to-day, 21st-century American life, the death mask gets my vote as our creepiest, most macabre artifact.
Today’s post introduces a new blog series here in Special Collections and University Archives— Artifacts in the Archives. These will be a series of posts that include staff picks for different artifacts. This week’s post lists some of our favorites.
The Death Mask
Death Mask of Margaret Stanton (Artifact 2001-R130)
From Whitney Olthoff, Project Archivist
I might get judged for this, but… I have to go with Margaret Stanton’s death mask. It’s creepy, it’s a bit macabre, and it’s a fascinating artifact. It’s a piece of Victorian history – this was just one of many kinds of memento mori (items created to remember the dead) that were a popular custom in that era. From my understanding, death masks were never typical in the Midwest, so it’s especially interesting that this one was made here and that we have one at all.
From Becky Jordan, Reference Specialist
My favorite artifact is Margaret MacDonald Stanton’s death mask. It gives us an opportunity to talk about two people who were here in the early days of the college, and who contributed to keeping the fledgling institution on the right track. Edgar was the first student to receive a diploma at Iowa State. He devoted his life to Iowa State, and was a member of the faculty until the day he died. His memorial to Margaret has become a major symbol of the university.
Because Margaret Hall, the first dormitory specifically for women, was named for Margaret Stanton, we can also talk about early student life, and the changes on Central Campus over the years. And there is the general creepiness factor, which can work into a discussion of past rituals surrounding death and mourning.
Cylindrical slide rule or Thacher’s Calculating Instrument (Artifact 2009-R004)
From Chris Anderson, Project Archivist
It’s fascinating how the math we now do digitally can be done mechanically. These are such ingenious devices. So much mileage out of a couple of interacting cylinders in a wooden frame. And of course, it’s cool looking!
From Brad Kuennen, University Archivist
My favorite artifact is the cylindrical slide rule (2009-R004). When most people think of slide rules, which I know doesn’t happen often anymore, it conjures up images of flat ruler-sized devices carried around in the pockets of 1950s college students. This cylindrical slide rule is definitely not pocket-sized! At 24 inches long and nearly 5 inches in diameter, I can’t imagine students toting one of these around campus all day. In this day of computers and smartphones we take for granted how much time and sweat was involved in solving complex equations 100 years ago. This device reduced the amount of hand calculations required to solve some of these difficult mathematical problems. The cylindrical slide rule is now a relic of the past, however I still find it fascinating to look at and wonder about its workings. Maybe someday I’ll actually take the time to learn how to use it. And by that I mean typing “cylindrical slide rule” into YouTube to see if there is a video that someone else has posted.
Land-features Globe of Mars
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From Matt Schuler, Library Assistant II
I like it because it’s a map and it’s not something you would typically expect to see represented on a globe. It would be something I’d love to have on display in my house if it wasn’t here.
Oliphant P. Stuckslager’s Hammer
Oliphant P. Stuckslager’s Hammer (Artifact 2001-R142.004)
From Laura Sullivan, Collections Archivist
For this post, I’m going to say that my favorite artifact is the Stuckslager hammer. The hammer was used to construct one of the first buildings here on campus, Old Main. We have just enough information on the hammer to give a person enough to start imagining all the activities, people, and sites the hammer saw during its lifetime – helping to bring me that much closer to the hustle and bustle which must have been part of the construction of the main building for the State Agricultural College and Model Farm (now Iowa State).
It’s seemingly a regular, common, everyday hammer of today, in look, feel, size and weight – which makes viewing the hammer both familiar and disconcerting. This particular hammer came to Ames in 1868, brought by Oliphant P. Stuckslager with the specific purpose to help build Old Main. We even know where Stuckslager and his family lived in Ames – further helping me to go back in time and imagine the life and times of the hammer during its quite active career, which is said to have continued until the death of its owner in 1908. We know as much information as we do about the hammer in part thanks to a senior research project done on the hammer. A summary of the student’s findings can be found on an earlier blog post.
The Laundry Mailer
Close-up of postcard on laundry mailer
Laundry Mailer (Artifact 2003-172.002)
From Rachel Seale, Outreach Archivist
I like the laundry mailer because it reminds me of when I was an undergraduate. Every weekend I returned home and my dad would do my laundry. Once I got my laundry done before I came home and he was disappointed! It’s also my favorite artifact because it reminds me that life was so different not too long ago. For one, students could fit an entire week’s worth of laundry into the mailer. It’s not very large. It is smaller than most carry-on luggage pieces today. I can’t imagine fitting a week’s worth of clothes in the mailer in the winter. I may be able to swing it for the summer, though, it would be a tight fit and it’s likely I’d have to wear some shorts or skirts more than once during the week. Students back then probably didn’t have a change of clothes for every day of the week. Also, I would guess that mostly mothers did the laundry. More research on the details of ISU students’ use of the laundry mailers needs to be done. Did both men and women use the laundry mailers, or did the women have laundry facilities in their dormitories? What years were the mailers in use here on campus?
Below are some links to additional information about the laundry mailer, shared with me by Becky Jordan:
From Amy Bishop, Rare Books and Manuscripts Archivist
I love dance cards because they are one of those elements from the past that have completely fallen by the wayside. I am a dancer, and I would love to go to a dance and fill up a dance card with my partners’ names. This particular one is my favorite, because it is so inventive and fun. Most dance cards are little booklets, but this one is a wheel with a little paper inside where you write your partners’ names that you can view through a little window. You turn the inside paper to reveal the different names. It works like a star chart. To use a fancy term, it is a volvelle. It is from an Alpha Kappa Delta dance, but there is no indication of the year. It is part of a collection of dance cards from Clarice Johnson Van Zante given to the department as a donation in 1999. Clarice was an ISU alum who attended in the 1920s, majoring in home economics. Later she worked as a school teacher in Ottumwa. The dance card is currently part of a mini-exhibit in the Special Collections reading room called “‘I’ll Pencil You In’: Dances and Dance Cards at Iowa State.”
The Rice Krispies Treat
Rice Krispies Treat accompanied by label (Artifact #2007-253)
Bottom of Rice Krispies Treat (Artifact #2007-253)
From Petrina Jackson, Head of SCUA
You are probably wondering why Special Collections and University Archives keeps a Rice Krispies Treat for posterity. It is a good question since it is unusual for repositories to keep food products as collection material. However, this is not just any Rice Krispies Treat. It is a piece of the world record-holding, largest Rice Krispies Treat, weighing in at 2,480 pounds. Members of the Iowa State community created the sweet, sticky snack during VEISHEA 2001 to celebrate the university theme “Strengthening Families to Become the Best,” co-sponsored by the College of Family and Consumer Science (now the College of Human Sciences). The record-holding treat was also made in honor of Mildred Day, a 1928 ISU graduate of home economics, who “was a member of the Kellogg Company team that developed the Rice Krispies Treat recipe in the 1940s.”
This Flashback Friday post is about a table that Special Collections and University Archives received in 2008. The bulk of this Friday’s blog post is authored by Becky Jordan, Reference Specialist.
The table was received as a gift in 2008, and was thought to be part of the original furnishings of Morrill Hall. However, once Archives staff started to do research on the names and other writings on the back side of the table top, it was apparent that it predated the opening of Morrill Hall in July of 1895. It may have been in use as early as 1884.
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Here is information collected by Becky back in 2008:
Writings on the Back of the Table Top
Scattered across the table are a number of dates:
May 9 ____
May 14 ‘87
May 29 1889
November 10 89
84 (this is etched in—there is also an 84 on the inside edge of the table itself)
There are three tic tac toe games.
Also scattered are some names:
Orris Roberts—younger brother of longtime faculty member Maria Roberts, he was expelled in 1892 for joining a fraternity after they had been banned by President Beardshear.
Ch_____t______ Esq. (The name looks as if it was rubbed out—it is smeared, rather than illegible. The Esq. may not belong to this name)
Grace Axtell—appears in the 1896 Bomb as a class member, but did not graduate.
Rhoda Ryan
There are also 14 names grouped together:
Grace Axtell (again)
Daisee Robinson
Louise Hamilton
Loretta Hamilton
Cora Thompson
Ruth or Faith Thompson
Emma McCarthy
Grant Kirtrow or Kertrow
W.S. Dawson
E.E. Smith
R.B. Armstrong
C.S. Lincoln
_. W. Deaver or Driver
W.D. Mason
I could find no information for Rhoda Ryan, Ruth Thompson or _.W. Deaver. Following is what I could find about the rest of these names:
Grace Axtell
She is listed in the Catalog as a freshman in the Ladies’ Course in 1893 and a Sophomore Special in 1894. She was the daughter of Charles P. and Harriett Adelaide (Ada) Miller Axtell. Her father was a partner in the firm of Ray & Axtell, a dry goods store on the west side of the square in Newton, Iowa. Grace married Alfred Herschel (Fred) Munn on October 21, 1897. Fred was a member of the class of 1894 but did not graduate. His family owned (and still does) the Munn Lumber Company in Ames. Their son, Hiram Axtell, was a member of the Class of 1922.
Daisee Robinson
She is listed in the Catalog as a freshman in 1893 and a sophomore in 1894. Like Grace Axtell, she was from Newton. Her father, Ralph Robinson, was the editor of the Newton Journal. Her mother’s maiden name was Fannie Hamilton. Both parents were from Ohio. According to her father’s obituary, Daisee’s husband was Mark Evans.
Louise Hamilton
She is listed in the Catalog as a freshman in 1891, a sophomore in 1894, and a junior in 1895 in the Ladies’ Course. She appears as a member of the class of 1896 in the 1896 Bomb. She is listed in 1895 Census in the Nevada 1st Ward with no occupation, age 20, and in the Ames 1st Ward as a student, age 20. She was the daughter of Charles and Tennetta Hamilton, with siblings Dora, Ethel, Loretta and Charles Jr. Both parents were from New York.
She married William C. Boardman, September 29, 1897.
Loretta Hamilton
Loretta was Louise Hamilton’s sister. We have no record of her as a student. She is listed in the 1895 Census in Nevada 1st Ward with no occupation, age 23 and in Ames 1st Ward as a bookkeeper, age 22. She married Benton Davis, June 27, 1900.
Cora Thompson
Cora May Thompson is listed in 1895 Census in the Nevada 1st Ward, occupation ?her (perhaps teacher), age 20. Her parents were F.D. and Abbie Thompson, and siblings were Kate, Sylvia, Clayton, and Olive. We have no record of her as a student. She married Charles S. Lincoln (Class of 1894) on September 15, 1898.
Emma McCarthy
A member of the class of 1885, who did not graduate, Emma McCarthy was the daughter of Ames pioneer Daniel McCarthy and his wife Mary Ann Ross McCarthy. In the 1894 yearbook (published 1893), she is listed as Iowa State’s assistant librarian. She attended Iowa State for three semesters (1881-1882) then taught school in Story County for eight years. She then spent two years at the Ames Post Office, joining the Iowa State staff in 1892. She married Chaucer G. Lee (Class of 1894) on September 23, 1896. Lee practiced law with Daniel McCarthy and was the judge of Iowa’s 11th District for eight years. Emma’s name is very familiar in Ames, because her husband presented a park to the city bearing her name in 1949.
W.S. Dawson
He is listed as an Electrical Engineering sophomore in 1893 and a “Special” junior in 1894, but did not graduate. He was from Nevada.
E.E. Smith
Edwin E. Smith was an 1893 graduate in Science. He is listed in Iowa State College Graduates as being from Sioux Rapids, Iowa, and deceased.
R.B. Armstrong
Listed as a “special” from Polk City in the 1894 Catalog and the 1895 Bomb, he did not graduate.
C.S. Lincoln
An 1894 graduate, Charles S. Lincoln was the son of James Rush Lincoln, Iowa State’s head of Military Science, 1883-1919. Charles Lincoln had a distinguished military career, enlisting in the U.S. Army in 1894 and retiring as a Brigadier General in 1936. He married Cora May Thompson (see above) on September 15, 1898.
W.D. Mason
Watson Mason is shown as a member of the Class of 1894 in the 1894 yearbook, but did not actually graduate until 1896. His degree was in Mechanical Engineering, and he is noted as deceased in the 1912 engineering directory. His hometown was Toledo, Iowa.
Some Explanations:
Until 1925, Iowa State’s yearbook The Bomb was published by the junior class and called by their class year. Thus, the 1895 Bomb actually came out in 1894. The last year this was done was 1924. Then the yearbook staff was opened to all classes and the book was dated with the year it was actually published. (This is also why there are two 1925 yearbooks).
The “Ladies’ Course” was a basic course of college study which included Domestic Economy. For example, the first term of the sophomore year included Domestic Economy, German or Latin, History, One Essay, and the choice of two sciences from Botany, Horticulture, Physics or Trigonometry. The degree received was the B.L. or Bachelor of Letters.
“Specials” were those taking special lines of study. The 1894 Catalog describes these students as follows:
“Any person of mature age and good moral character, who desires to pursue studies in any department of instruction of the College, and who is not a candidate for a degree, will, upon application to the president, be admitted on the following conditions: (1). He must meet the requirements for admission to the freshman class, and pass such special examinations as the professor in charge of the department selected shall deem essential to a profitable pursuit of the work. (2). He shall confine his work strictly to the line of study chosen at the time of admission, and shall take enough class work, laboratory and other practice equivalent to work required of regularly classified students. (3). He shall submit to the same requirements in daily recitations and in examinations, with students in the regular courses.
Students who have pursued thus a special line of study in the Institution, will, upon application to the faculty, be granted the College Certificate, showing their standing in such studies.”
Cardinal Tales 