Original Article: http://dartreview.com/archives/2008/09/22/the_storied_history_of_dartmouth_college.php
Monday, September 22, 2008
Editor’s note: Among the writers who have contributed to this history are Aziz George B. Sayigh ‘07, Boris V. Vabson ‘09, and A. S. Erickson ‘10.
Dartmouth represents the ninth oldest of America’s Colonial Colleges. Established in 1769, she was the last to receive her charter from England’s Crown. Dartmouth’s founding has since become a matter of legend, at the center of which lies one man’s unlikely vision, for a small school among New England’s wilderness. In the ensuing decades, Eleazar Wheelock, Samson Occom, and Daniel Webster, Dartmouth’s favorite son, have all emerged as larger-than-life figures. Learning about their journeys is as integral a part to the Dartmouth experience as DOC Trips, Winter Carnival, or the Green itself. We present their stories here, among others, in a fundamental overview of our College’s celebrated history.
Eleazar Wheelock and Samson Occom
A sense of divine mission, which guided Wheelock to found Dartmouth, drove his life’s many other pursuits. Born in Windham, Connecticut in 1711, Wheelock graduated from Yale in 1733, and was subsequently ordained as a preacher. Soon afterwards, he became seized by the Great Awakening, a religious fever spreading throughout New England. The Awakening particularly influenced Wheelock’s sermons, which regularly reduced audiences to tears.
One of Wheelock’s first pupils was Samson Occom, a young Connecticut Mohegan who was converted in the Awakening’s very heat. Wheelock helped him prepare for college until Occom’s weak eyes forced an abandonment of study. Occom established himself as a schoolteacher in New London, later becoming a preacher and schoolmaster to the Montauk tribe of Long Island. The manufacture and sale of wooden spoons, cedar pails, churns, and leather books, as well as fishing and hunting, sustained Occom’s large family, as well as his missionary work.
His efforts led Wheelock to conceive of a language and missionary school, for Indian as well as white students, in the Colonies’ heart. After receiving a £500 bequest from two young Delawares, and an equivalent donation of land and buildings from Colonel Joshua More, Wheelock set up More’s (later Moor’s) Indian Charity School, in 1754. The charity school was a pioneering enterprise, and received support from such luminaries as George Whitefield, the famed Connecticut Revivalist, who donated a bell.
A decade after the school’s inauguration, Colonel More died, leaving the institution without its primary benefactor. Furthermore, interest in educating Indians was declining, as consequence of the French and Indian War of the late 1750s. Wheelock also proved unable to obtain a charter for the institution, either from the King or the Connecticut legislature. Financial hardship, meanwhile, only increased in severity.
The Royal Charter and The Earl of Dartmouth
Wheelock sent his former pupil, Samson Occom, to England in 1764. As a well-received novelty in England, Wheelock was convinced the Indian minister would be successful in raising funds. Wheelock’s inklings were confirmed when, along with Nathaniel Whitaker, Occom collected approximately eleven thousand pounds. It was an impressive figure for the time, especially given deteriorating relations between England and the Colonies.
A number of prominent Englishmen contributed to Occom’s cause. Among them was William Legge, Second Earl of Dartmouth, and Secretary of State for the Colonies. He was an admirer of George Whitefield, and, by extension, of Wheelock and Occom. Becoming president of the London Board for Moor’s School, he eventually secured a £200 gift from the King.
John Wentworth, an American residing in England was also a key player in Dartmouth’s founding. Recently appointed as Royal Governor of New Hampshire, he was eager to have the school relocate from Connecticut. His uncle, former Governor Benning Wentworth, had offered Wheelock 500 acres of land, to which John added the grant of an entire township. Wheelock accepted, and a new charter was finalized in December 1769. Wheelock chose Hanover as the school’s domicile shortly thereafter.
Wheelock and Occom parted ways in 1768, allegedly over the expenditures of Occom’s family. It is also likely that Occom anticipated the character of Wheelock’s new college, as one primarily for whites, given the failure of Moor’s Charity School. Occom’s affiliation with a cause he had served so well had come to an end.
Wheelock originally intended to name the college Wentworth, but the Governor persuaded him to designate it Dartmouth, to gain England’s favor. Ironically, The Earl of Dartmouth, William Legge, lost interest shortly thereafter. He considered Wheelock’s new plan a perversion of the original.
The first building was a temporary log hut “without stone, brick, glass, or nails,” which served as a classroom and dormitory. In 1770, Wheelock constituted the college’s sole faculty member. John W. Ripley, Bezaleel Woodward, and John Smith joined him as tutors the following year. In 1771, Levi Frisbie, Samuel Gray, Sylvanus Ripley, and John Wheelock all became graduates of the College. Dartmouth has produced a class every year since, the only American college to do so, as the Revolution, the War of 1812, and other skirmishes periodically disrupted studies at other institutions.
Daniel Webster and The Supreme Court
Wheelock appointed his son, John Wheelock, to succeed him upon the older Wheelock’s death in 1779. John was only twenty-five, and seemed insufficiently qualified for the presidential office. Hesitant to approve his posting, the trustees eventually relented, due in part to Wheelock’s willingness to serve without salary.
Eager to cultivate respect and support, the younger Wheelock proved too fervent in such attempts, alienating students and the trustees. By 1809, Wheelock’s opposition took hold of the board’s majority, and slowly converted a majority of the professors to their point of view. Impeaching Wheelock in 1815, the trustees elected Reverend Francis Brown as successor.
Wheelock, having no desire to yield, convinced New Hampshire’s Democrats to join him in his struggle against the trustees, whom he accused of various offenses against the College. New Hampshire Democrats, led by then-Governor William Plumer, at first condemned the Dartmouth charter as one “emanating from royalty,” and one thus unsuitable for a republic like the United States. In 1816, these Democrats then, by means of the state legislature, changed the name of Dartmouth College to “Dartmouth University” (calling the College a “University” has been a grave offence ever since), increased the number of trustees from twelve to twenty one, and created a board of overseers with veto power over trustee decisions. Dartmouth was effectively transformed from a private college to a state university. The resulting controversy would outlive Wheelock himself, who died in 1817.
Daniel Webster, a young Dartmouth graduate (Class of 1801) of growing repute, had been courted by both parties to the dispute, to serve as legal counsel. Some of the college community’s older members recalled Webster’s Dartmouth arrival, in 1797. Webster was then dressed in homespun clothing, dyed by his mother, whose colors had bled upon contact with rain. Such was the humble beginning of a future Senator and Secretary of State.
Webster lodged his support behind the College’s original trustees. He suggested they file suit against William H. Woodward, former treasurer of Dartmouth, demanding return of the charter, seal, records, and account books seized by him. The trustees were defeated in the Superior Court of New Hampshire, but had their grievances elevated to the national scene. The trustees could appeal to the Supreme Court, though their prospects in that body were uncertain. Furthermore, additional funds were in need, as the college’s endowment at the time amounted to only $1,500. Webster, for a fee of $1,000, agreed to represent the Board of Trustees of the College in the Supreme Court’s chambers. He would argue that New Hampshire’s actions, in impairing the “obligation of contracts,” were unconstitutional.
Webster testified on March 10, 1818, in the case of Woodward vs. the Board of Trustees, before Chief Justice John Marshall and the U.S. Supreme Court. Webster’s four-hour oration stands one of the most memorable in U.S history. At the end of his argument, he famously concluded:
“This, sir, is my case. It is the case not merely of that humble institution; it is the case of every college in our land. … It is more. It is, in some sense, the case of every man who has property of which he may be stripped,–for the question is simply this: Shall our state legislature be allowed to take that which is not their own, to turn it from its original use, and apply it to such ends or purposes as they, in their discretion, shall see fit? …
“Sir, you may destroy this little institution. It is weak. It is in your hands! I know it is one of the lesser lights in the literary horizon of the country. You may put it out. But if you do so, you must carry through your work. You must extinguish, one after another, all those great lights of science which, for more than a century, have thrown their radiance over our land.
“It is, Sir, as I have said, a small college, and yet, there are those who love it....”
Webster’s lip quivered and his voice choked as he delivered the final words. Justice Marshall’s eyes were reportedly moist with tears. A decision was postponed for a year as some of the justices pondered the case. During the interim, Webster, aware of public sentiment’s influence on court decisions, circulated widely the printed copies of his argument.
In February of 1819, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of the Trustees and the College. Only one dissenting vote was cast. In his magisterial opinion, Marshall remarked, “Perhaps no judicial proceedings in this country ever involved more important consequences.” Indeed, the case had extended national power at the expense of the state’s, confirmed the charter right of all private colleges of the land, protected business and non-profit organizations, and furthermore encouraged their very establishment.
Wheelock’s Early Successors
Webster’s fiery orations brought renewed calm to Hanover. The College, its very character once endangered, entered into a period of normalcy. A pair of short, inconsequential presidencies was followed by Nathan Lord’s ascension to the Presidency. Serving for 35 consecutive years, Lord expanded enrollment, in addition to constructing Thornton and Wentworth, the buildings flanking Dartmouth Hall. Lord’s open endorsement of slavery, however, provoked a rising tide against him. In 1863, faced with the prospect of removal, Lord opted to resign his office. Rev. Asa Dodge Smith was appointed as replacement. The College’s previous annexation of the Chandler Scientific School (America’s first specialized scientific institution) was complemented, under Smith’s mantel, by the creation of the Thayer School of Engineering. This period was also marked by the establishment, in Hanover, of an agricultural college. Wallowing away for twenty years south of East Wheelock Street, the institution subsequently relocated to Durham, later becoming the University of New Hampshire. Asa Dodge Smith’s successor, Samuel Bartlett, established a pattern frequently imitated by administrators to follow. Alienating legions of faculty, students, and alumni, Bartlett found his position in serious jeopardy. Unlike future leaders, however, Bartlett also possessed a magical touch, almost seamlessly repairing the rifts he had sown. His critics were left speechless. Serving until 1893, Bartlett would oversee Rollins Chapel’s construction, in addition to pushing the endowment past the million dollar mark.
Safeguarding Dartmouth’s continued survival, in the face of unforgiving wilderness, was the great triumph of early college leaders. Yet, succeeding leaders would facilitate equally lofty achievements. Under their guidance, Dartmouth would not merely endure, but rise to the very pinnacle of education in the New World.
The 20th Century
It was throughout the early 20th century, when stakes were highest, that the greatest of Dartmouth presidents came to power. The College, at that juncture, constituted little more than a finishing school. Its student body numbered 300, with serious scholarship in short supply, and facilities antiquated. While contemporaries fared little better, Dartmouth’s leaders understood the direction the future necessitated. Assuming the presidential office in 1893, William Jewett Tucker was the first seeking to bring Dartmouth into “the modern era.” His storied accomplishments included an overhaul of the physical campus. Construction of over 20 buildings was undertaken, and the steam plant was erected. Wood stoves on campus thus became relics of the past. The curriculum also was targeted for change, as it was “broadened” and somewhat secularized. The student body’s size expanded to 1,100. Tucker, like his contemporary Charles Eliot at Harvard, was a persistent advocate for progress in American education. He wished for America’s academic institutions, particularly Dartmouth, to befit the country’s greatness.
In 1909, Ernest Fox Nichols entered the presidency in Tucker’s stead. The first since John Wheelock not to belong to the clergy, Nichols affected further secularization at Dartmouth. His tenure was also notable for the founding of the Dartmouth Outing Club and Winter Carnival. In particular, The Carnival became the stuff of lore, often termed “Mardi Gras of the North.” The setting of a 1939 motion picture and the scene of countless depravities, it also served host to a drunken F. Scott Fitzgerald. 1916 saw Ernest Martin Hopkins appointed as president. In addition to developing the physical plant, Hopkins introduced selective admissions in the early 1920s.
After almost 30 years at the helm, Ernest Hopkins was succeeded by John Sloan Dickey. Though previously an attorney and high ranking State Department official, Dickey was a man of breadth, to be found not only in Parkhurst, but also in full exertion among New Hampshire’s wilderness. He sought to hone the mind, body, and spirit, and made the same demands of every Dartmouth student. Under his watch, the ideal of the Dartmouth Man, as a well-formed, balanced, and vigorous being, reached its fruition. Dickey furthermore wished the Dartmouth man to be outward gazing, and cognizant of the world at large. In this vein, Dickey strived to develop a curriculum international in scope, establishing numerous foreign study programs. As Dickey told a Dartmouth audience, while the horrors of the Second World War were still fresh in memory, “The world’s problems are your problems…and there is nothing wrong with the world that better human beings cannot fix.” When Dickey departed from Dartmouth in 1970, his was a towering shadow. He left Dartmouth the strongest it ever was. Dickey instilled great love among Dartmouth alumni for their alma mater. Almost 70% gave funds to the College in any given year of his tenure, a percentage since unequaled.
Replacing Dickey as Dartmouth president was John Kemeny. Co-creator of the BASIC computer language, Kemeny brought technology to the forefront of the College, as well as gave students access to it. Now, he would preside over co-education’s controversial beginning, with 1972 marking the first year of female admittance. To meet the needs of this expansion of the student body, Kemeny instituted the D-Plan, a year-round schedule of operations existing to this day. It was, in the words of some, a means by which to fit 4000 students into 3000 beds. Yet, even into the 1980s, men filled as many as 80% of those beds.
The Modern Era
David T. McLaughlin succeeded Kemeny and was himself followed by James O. Freedman. These fellows were rooted at opposite poles of the spectrum. McLaughlin, a businessman by occupation, proved unable to adapt to the world of the academy, and eventually tendered his resignation. Freedman, meanwhile, was an academic, fixated only on the life of the mind, and wishing others at Dartmouth to follow his example. His inaugural address demanded greater representation of the “creative loner” at Dartmouth, and of “students who march to a different drummer….for whom a library is dukedom large enough.” With these words, Freedman set out to cultivate a student body that was a far cry from Dickey’s ideal, substituting balance for lopsidedness. The raising of SAT scores’ importance in admissions was one consequence of Freedman’s quest. The East Wheelock Cluster, that glorious den of failed social engineering, stands as another monument to his efforts. In the end, Freedman’s legacy was one of the superficial academic. This was best exemplified a few years ago at commencement as a student speaker mentioned the “Greek” poet Catallus. (See TDR 5/14/07)
James Wright, Dartmouth’s current head, is most notable for his efforts to abolish single-sex Greek houses and effectively do away with the College’s Greek System. This proposal, announced in 1999 as the Student Life Initiative, met fierce opposition from both students and alumni. This opposition has led the proposal to die away, unlikely to figure prominently in the near future. Wright has also faced controversy for fiscal mismanagement, for presiding over a bloated bureaucracy, and for ineffectively addressing overcrowded classes in certain departments (notably Economics and Government).
Such were the grievances aired by four different petition candidates, vying for spots on the Board of Trustees. T. J. Rodgers, Peter Robinson, Todd Zywicki, and Stephen Smith by name, these petitioners bemoaned Dartmouth’s abandonment of the ideals of breadth, well roundedness, and balance. Each of these petitioners was subsequently elected, Rodgers in 2004, Robinson and Zywicki in 2005, and Smith in 2007 by alumni to the Board. Their significant margin of victory has served as a repudiation of Wright’s tenure. Wright has taken notice. In the last trustee election he threw the College’s whole weight behind every candidate—except Smith, going so far as to set up a new website designed solely to discredit Smith and abusing his office by mass mailing the alumni body in regards to the upcoming election. Long seen as more tactful than his immediate predecessor, President Wright has used his power more openly as of late. The fate of Dartmouth, that enduring institution, has not only been engineered from the past. Rather, it is also being shaped in the present, by all who attend or associate with her.
You too, coming ’12s, will add your own contributions to this storied institution’s history, an institution counting among its alumni a former Vice President, a Chief Justice, and Robert Frost.
As even James Wright will tell you at your convocation, you shall become a part of Dartmouth, just as Dartmouth shall become a part of you.