In 1955, UNC’s senior class generously donated a large globe to the University Library. It’s still on display in the North Carolina Collection Gallery, and it’s our August Artifact of the Month.
I wonder if the donors could have known the many lessons the globe would impart beyond the ones they intended? Three that easily come to mind:
Lesson #1: Sixty years of geopolitical change can render a globe nearly unrecognizable. Gallery visitors remark about the globe’s mid-twentieth-century boundaries and country names. An undivided Korea. The size of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Unfamiliar nations like Tanganyika. The legacy of European colonialism: French Indochina, British Somaliland, Belgian Congo, Spanish Guinea.
Lesson #2: There’s a reason why museum professionals tell you not to touch things. The globe is in remarkably good condition, with two exceptions. The first is a dent near the North Pole. The second is a fingertip-sized place that’s been worn down to the metal… right smack in the middle of North Carolina. Decades of people pointing to home have rendered home invisible.
Lesson #3: There’s no substitute for a three-dimensional representation of Earth. Visitors of all ages are magnetically drawn to the globe, despite carrying around high-powered, handheld computers that can simulate the experience of manipulating the planet from outer space.
You can view the globe in our digital collection, Carolina Keepsakes. But remember lesson #3: Nothing beats seeing it in 3D.
In colonial North Carolina, paper money didn’t have the strong institutional backing it does today, and it was remarkably easy to counterfeit. Our July Artifact of the Month is a paper note from 1729 with a value of forty shillings… But was it real?
Our July Artifact of the Month: a 1729 handwritten paper note.
The preferred money of the time was coins of silver, gold, and copper. But Great Britain’s mercantilist colonial policy kept the flow of coins to the home country, and the colonies’ supply was always inadequate. To fill the need, all of Great Britain’s American colonies issued their own paper money. These notes were usually issued with little more than faith in the government as backing.
In 1690, Massachusetts became the first colony to issue its own paper money. North Carolina first issued paper money “bills of credit” in 1712 to finance a war against the Tuscarora Indians.
Unlike any other colony, North Carolina’s first four issues of paper money were produced without benefit of the printing press — they were all handwritten. The issues of 1712-13 and 1715 have no known surviving examples, but a few examples of the 1722 and 1729 issues are known. Our Artifact of the Month is an example of the last handwritten issue.
The note states “This Bill of Forty Shillings Shall be Current in North Carolina According to an Act of Assembly Made Nov 27, 1729.”
The note is serial number 730 and has a paper seal. It bears the signatures of John Lovick, William Downing, Cullen Pollock, Edward Moseley, and Thomas Swann. The back, originally blank, displays a couple of endorsements of bearers as the note circulated, a common practice with early North Carolina bills.
Back of note
Handwritten paper money was highly susceptible to counterfeiting. The squiggly lines at top of this note were a simple means of counterfeit detection. If a note was brought to the proper governmental authority, it could be compared to the paper stubs with the top half of the squiggle with the same serial number.
Experts believe that most surviving examples of handwritten North Carolina paper money are counterfeits made by colonists (numismatists call these “contemporary counterfeits”). Some examples of these have been preserved in early court records of the prosecution of counterfeiters.
But what about our note? Is it a counterfeit? It was apparently condemned as counterfeit at the time, witnessed by the word “Counterfeit” penned at top.
One way to investigate would be to compare the signatures on the note with known-genuine signatures that are likely in the North Carolina State Archives. All five signers were prominent in local government and business, and it is likely that many of their documents have survived. As far as we know, no one has yet conducted this test, so we may attempt it ourselves.
Whether genuine or an early counterfeit, this is one of few survivors that attest to the severe money problems of early North Carolinians.
Those interested in learning more are referred to the excellent Money and Monetary Problems in Early North Carolina by Alan D. Watson, a 1980 publication of the North Carolina Department of Cultural Resources, Division of Archives and History.
As the days grow humid, who doesn’t yearn for some cool mountain air? Our June Artifact of the Month is an early-20th-century booklet advertising Grove Park Inn in Asheville, NC, a historic resort hotel that first opened in 1913. Built by Edwin Wiley Grove and his friend and son-in-law Thomas Seely, the Inn “was built in the old-fashioned way — full of rest, comfort, and wholesomeness.”
The inside of booklet, which features black-and-white photographs of the hotel’s lobby and various rooms, describes the luxuries of the hotel. No detail is too minute for this sixteen-page publication. It addresses plumbing: “The toilet seats are celluloid. No pipes are visible anywhere.” Lighting: “No electric bulbs visible. All lighting indirect.” Furnishings: “Not a double bed in the Inn. Double rooms have two three-quarter beds and single rooms have one.” Ice: “All refrigeration is artificial. Ice not used.”
The place is kept pristine and they insist on maintaining a homelike atmosphere. “The cleaning is done with Hoover Vacuum Cleaners,” the booklet declares. In the “Big Room,” or lobby, you will be greeted by the “world’s finest Orchestral Organ,” a description of which appears on the back cover of the booklet.
“One of the curses of the ordinary hotel,” reads one of the pages, “is the lack of consideration for guests who need rest or care to retire before midnight.” But Grove Park guests need not worry: the Inn has the art of comfort perfected as “employees wear rubber heels.”
Maids report for service at 8:00 a.m., but are provided with comfortable chairs in their corridors for reading until quiet hours end at 9:00 a.m. And the ceilings of the Big Room are one foot thick so no noise will penetrate into the rooms of sleeping guests.
This postcard from the same era as the booklet shows an interior view of the “Big Room” at night.
Amongst these extravagances, Park Grove prides itself on being “Absolutely Fireproof”:
“It is absolutely fireproof built of the great boulders of Sunset Mountain, at the foot of which it sits.”
With this extreme focus on comfort, it’s no wonder ten U.S. Presidents and countless luminaries from the worlds of art, entertainment, sports, and politics have stayed at this hotel.
In an atmosphere that prides itself on luxury and affording every opportunity for a good time, one rule comes across as surprising:
“It is unlawful for the management to provide or sell liquors to guests of this hotel.”
A little sleuthing reveals that this nifty little booklet was published in 1920 — at the dawn of Prohibition.
You may consider adding Grove Park to your list of NC vacationing spots, as the hotel is still open today – although in 2013, on its hundredth birthday, the classic Ashville Inn was purchased by Omni hotels. If the luxury isn’t enough to lure you, here’s some additional enticement: “The altitude forbids humidity and heat even on the warmest summer days,” tempts the booklet, “There are no mosquitos.”
This animation switches between the booklet’s centerfold photo and a colorized postcard featuring the same image.
In 1943, UNC-Greensboro was the Woman’s College of the University of North Carolina. And on this day in 1943, first-year students were preparing for their freshman formal. Our May Artifact of the Month is a dance card from that event.
In the nineteenth century and the first half of the twentieth, dance cards provided a structure and etiquette for attendees of formal dances. The dance card — which was really a small booklet — had a number of blank lines corresponding to the dance songs at the event. When a man invited a woman to dance to a particular song, she’d write his name down on the corresponding line.
These days, if a critical mass of people still attended formal dances, someone would design a smart phone app to handle this task. But in the 1940s, paper and pen managed just fine.
And although the dance card is no longer a mainstay of social gatherings, we’ve kept the idea of the dance card alive as a metaphor for describing our social capacity — hence the phrase “my dance card is full.”
This particular dance card was donated by NCC Gallery volunteer and donor Bob Schreiner, who came across it for sale on the Web. We don’t know anything about its original owner, but the dance card itself conveys enough information to give us an intriguing picture of the life of that Woman’s College student.
The card gives the location, Rosenthal Gymnasium, which was built on the campus in the 1920s and can be seen in this photograph from the County Collection in the NCC Photographic Archives:
We also know that the official guests included Frank Porter Graham, who was then UNC President, and Woman’s College Chancellor Walter Clinton Jackson.
Graham is described in the 1943 Woman’s College yearbook, Pine Needles, like this:
Dr. Graham is recognized as one of the South’s truly great men, but this is not what endears him to us. He is a particular favorite of ours because of his easy manner, his very effective speeches, and his delightful conversation. Our only complaint is that we see too little of him.
The cover and front page of the 1943 yearbook.
The 1943 Pine Needles also illuminates some aspects of life at this women’s college during World War II. The foreword to the yearbook reads:
“The 1943 Pine Needles is trying to portray for you the true spirit of a great woman’s college; to give you the picture of young women who — in the midst of a world at war — are seeking to equip themselves to play a useful role in a post-war world in need of a responsible youth; and to aid you, the students, to recall the laughter and hard work, the study and recreation, and — above all — the pure joy of living which was so much a part of your college life.
You may not remember… the times you were homesick… your struggle in Statistics… the payments you made in the Treasurer’s Office… the term papers you ground out in the Library… how long the lunch lines were…
But just try to forget: … those solitary walks by the lake… those ever-welcome boxes from home… initiation day for freshman and how queer girls look minus make-up… coming from chapel in the rain… the snowballs you threw… registration day and the struggle to avoid “eight o’clocks”… that blankety-blank alarm clock… dashing into Junior Shop for cokes and crackers between classes… “after-school” hockey games and the appetites you worked up… a W.C. formal with its dance cards and crowded floor… dance group and how you wished you were in it… those dorm parties which always surprised you… riding at Mary Lee… the jam around the Milk Bar on Saturday nights… the sophomore Christmas pageants which were always lovely… waiting for the mail to be put up… rolling your hair at night in hopes that it won’t rain the next day… learning to aim at your target… !
Because dance cards were typically carried by women, they usually list men’s names. But judging by the names on this card, the card holder’s dance partners were all women. Thanks to the North Carolina Digital Heritage Center, we can even see photos of those dance partners in the 1946 Pine Needles.
And while the yearbook foreword mentions the “W.C. formal with its dance cards and crowded floor,” it doesn’t give any indication of whether the floor was crowded solely with women. The names on this dance card are our only clue.
If the freshman formal was an all-women event, we’re left to wonder whether that was by design, or whether the war effort overseas had affected the population of local young college men.
If any readers have personal experience or more information, we’d love to hear about it in the comments.
Thanks to Bob Schreiner for this fantastic donation!
Our April Artifact of the Month is a poster, donated by Lew Powell, advertising cruises from Morehead City on the M.S. Stockholm.
When this travel poster was created, the M. S. Stockholm was a slim young 12,000-ton ocean liner with a yacht-like profile. The ship, which was owned by the Swedish America Line, began sailing in 1948. The Stockholm provided regular service between Scandinavian ports and New York City during an era when crossing the Atlantic by ship was gaining in popularity — despite the growing availability of transatlantic air service.
Designed to provide comfort and intimacy rather than luxury for its passengers and crew, the Stockholm was the smallest passenger liner on the North Atlantic route. Due to its slim hull and initial lack of stabilizer fins, the ship quickly gained the reputation as the “worst roller on the North Atlantic.”
Partly in response to the vessel’s lively behavior in the rougher northern seas, the Swedish America Line scheduled the Stockholm for a series of four cruises originating at Morehead City, North Carolina, with Havana, Nassau, and Bermuda as destinations in the autumn of 1953. As local newspapers reported, North Carolinians took advantage of this opportunity, with the first cruise being occupied almost entirely by about 400 members of the North Carolina Academy of General Practice physicians and their families. The departure from Morehead City was postponed by one day while Hurricane Hazel roared ashore. The October 23rd cruise to Bermuda included a convention of North Carolina livestock Feed Dealers.
The Stockholm has subsequently led a long and eventful life.
On the foggy night of July 25, 1956, the eastbound Stockholm collided with the much larger luxury liner and pride of the Italian Line fleet, the Andrea Doria, near the Nantucket lightship. A fourteen-year-old girl was catapulted from her berth in the Andrea Doria onto the deck of the Stockholm. The girl survived. But the Andrea Doria sank eleven hours later. Between the two ships, fifty-one lives were lost.
The Stockholm after its collision with the Andrea Doria. Image from John Oxley Library, State Library of Queensland, Australia.
The bow of the Stockholm was repaired, and the ship was placed back into service. Since then, the vessel has experienced a considerable series of changes of ownership and name.
1960
Sold to East German government. Renamed Völkerfreundschaft. Operated as an ocean liner for fifteen years.
1985
Transferred to a Panamanian company. Named shortened to Volker. Laid up in Southampton, United Kingdom, in 1986. Then renamed Fridtjof Nansen. Served as a barracks ship for asylum seekers in Oslo, Norway.
1989
Sold to an Italian company, which rebuilt it as a modern cruise ship from the waterline up. Renamed Italia 1, then Italia Prima, then Valtur Prima while providing service to Cuba. Laid up in Cuba in 2001.
2002
Purchased by Festival Cruise Line. Renamed Caribe. Sailed on the Cuba route.
2005
Sailed for Classic International Cruises. Renamed Athena. Attacked by pirates in the Gulf of Aden on December 3, 2008, but the ship’s crew and a U.S. Navy patrol aircraft drove the pirates off.
A 2011 photograph of the ship then known as the Athena. Photo from the Wikimedia Commons.
2013
Bought by a Portuguese company, Portuscale Cruises. Renamed Azores. Conducted charter cruises.
2015
Scheduled for long-term service by the Cruise and Maritime Voyages company. The ship once known as the Stockholm will be 67 years old in 2015.
Even relative newcomers to UNC remark about the seemingly endless construction on campus. The orientation of the University seems forever attuned to building and changing, moving toward the future.
Fortunately, there are people on campus paying careful attention to UNC’s past — foremost among them the Research Laboratories of Archaeology. The RLA is responsible for our March artifact of the month, a fragment of a red clay tobacco pipe associated with the presidential campaign of Millard Fillmore.
The pipe was excavated in the 1990s at the site of the Eagle Hotel, where Graham Memorial Hall now stands. The Eagle Hotel, built about 1796, was first a tavern house and later a hotel and boarding house. It was also one of the first commercial structures in Chapel Hill.
In the decades leading up to the Civil War, the Eagle Hotel served as a center of social life at the university. The University reacquired the property in 1907 and turned it into a dormitory, which was used until its destruction in a 1921 fire.
Steve Davis, Associate Director of the Research Laboratories of Archaeology, will deliver a lecture associated with the exhibition on April 14. More details about the exhibition and the lecture can be seen on the Gallery’s current exhibition page.
An informal poll of North Carolina Collection employees suggests that some of us are true hearts-and-flowers romantics on Valentine’s Day, and some of us approach the day like scrooges.
Regardless of how you plan to spend Valentine’s Day, we hope you’ll enjoy this pressed flower picture from 1882 — our February Artifact of the Month.
Pressing flowers was a popular pastime for women in the 19th century, particularly as a way of marking sentimental occasions.
This picture was made by Ella Williams Graves Thompson of Caswell County, soon after marrying George Nicholas Thompson (whose papers are in the Southern Historical Collection) in January 1882. A note accompanying the picture, written by Thompson’s daughter, reads:
Mama gathered and pressed these flowers the first year of her married life, and made the picture the last few months before Graves [Thompson’s son Azariah Graves Thompson] was born. The picture belongs to Graves. In it are woven all her hopes and prayers for her firstborn son. She meant it always to represent that to him.
So, all you Valentine’s scrooges: If that didn’t warm your heart just a little, what will?
In honor of the polar vortex that left us shivering and the chilly days to come, the North Carolina Collection Gallery has been looking for a way to enjoy a winter wonderland without having to bundle up in blankets and coats. Our solution? We present to you January’s Artifact of the Month: an assortment of winter-themed advertising cards.
Although many of us have seen our share of postcards and notes (let alone text messages and tweets), few have ever received cards like these in the mail. Almost from the moment people realized the ease and accessibility of postcards, companies began to see them as a quick and cheap way to send their holiday cheer (and shopping tips) across the nation.
Picture post cards began to be mass developed in 1870 in Europe, but it wasn’t until 1897 that commercial companies were allowed to print their own cards.
And so began the day of the advertising cards… back when junk mail still had some class.
From the idyllic to the iconic to the downright idiotic, the North Carolina Collection has collected dozens/hundreds of these fascinating cards — not only winter wonderland scenes, but bear hunts gone awry, warnings about ingesting worms, picture games, and miracle tonics that could make your hair soft, complexion bright, and maybe your head spin.
UNC can count many popular musicians on its list of notable alumni. Among the very earliest is Hal Kemp, the big band leader of the 1920s and 30s who started his musical career at UNC and went on to achieve national fame. Kemp’s saxophone and clarinet are our December Artifacts of the Month.
Kemp organized his first dance band, the five-piece Merrymakers, when he was still in high school at Charlotte Central High. After entering UNC in 1922 he started the Carolina Club Orchestra, which recorded for Okeh records and performed in Europe during summer breaks. Before graduating, Kemp invited Kay Kyser to take over as bandleader for the Carolina Club Orchestra.
The seven-piece combo Kemp formed during his senior year became the foundation for the professional band he established in the spring of 1926, the year he graduated. While it was active, Kemp’s band recorded some of the era’s major hits and consistently appeared in the top ten of the Billboard’s College Poll. It was the first band featured in a motion picture — 1938’s Radio City Revels.
Kemp’s instruments were generously donated by his nephew, Howard Yates Dunaway, Jr.
Dunaway traveled with the band as a teenager in the 1930s, helping to set up the band members’ instruments. When he brought the saxophone and clarinet, Dunaway, now in his 90s, shared his memories of life on the road with his uncle’s band.
Scrapbook in the Hal Kemp Papers in the Southern Historical Collection.
Kemp’s saxophone is a Buescher Aristocrat.
Howard Dunaway and his brother Kemp Dunaway inherited the family’s musical talent: Howard played violin in the Charlotte Symphony at age 16. And his brother Kemp played these very instruments, which he had inherited from his uncle.
Howard Dunaway, from the 1947 UNC yearbook the Yackety Yack.
Kemp Dunaway, from the 1947 Yackety Yack.
Hal Kemp wasn’t with us long enough. He died following an auto accident in 1940 at just 35. But his recordings will be with us forever — and so will his instruments. The North Carolina Collection Gallery is proud to care for these artifacts, which tell an important story of a time when UNC made significant contributions to the world of popular music.
In 1882, Littleton Female College opened in Littleton, North Carolina. Originally chartered as the Central Institute for Young Ladies, the school grew from an inaugural class of eleven students to 274 students in 1907.
Our November Artifact of the Month is a commemorative plate that recalls Littleton College (which eventually dropped the word “female” from its name).
Littleton College offered courses in chemistry, physics, and mathematics in addition to the domestic courses of study that were common in contemporary women’s schools. Littleton was a private Methodist school, owned by Rev. James Manly Rhodes.
In 1919 a fire destroyed the school’s buildings and Mr. Rhodes didn’t rebuild. But despite Littleton College’s relatively short lifespan, we’re left with some great documentation of the institution and its students.
The North Carolina Digital Heritage Center has digitized three editions of the Littleton College yearbook, the Pansy.
Yearbook photo of the Littleton College “A.B.C. Basket ball Team,” 1905Yearbook photo of the Littleton College “X.Y.Z. Basket ball Team,” 1905Yearbook photo of the Littleton College Orchestra, 1905
The commemorative plate, a recent donation from a descendant of several Littleton students, is the Library’s first non-paper artifact from Littleton College. It’s a great addition to the North Carolina Collection Gallery.
