A not-so-brief history of the United States passport

Durable passport books that can easily fit in a pocket are a relatively recent invention. Prior to the 20th century, travel papers were just that: letters or single-page documents from a monarch or government requesting safe passage for their citizens. These travel documents can be traced back millennia to about 450 B.C.E. in ancient Persia. Other early instances of such documentation have been found in India and China as early as the third century B.C.E. In the Middle Ages, travel documents for moving between regions within a country, or to visit colonies or foreign nations were issued in many places around the world, including the Islamic Caliphate, Italian city-states and England. An example of one such document is the secretarial letter of safe conduct issued in the name of King Casimir IV Jagiellon of Poland and given to Anselm Adornes, a merchant from Bruges acting as a diplomat for the Duke of Burgundy, on his way to Persia in the 15th century.

Anselm Adornes secretarial letter of safe conduct from King Casimir IV Jagiellon of Poland, ca. 1470. Source: Wikimedia Commons.

King Louis XIV of France popularized the modern use of passports – still a letter of request for safe passage – by providing a personally signed “passe port” to many of his court favorites. The English word “passport” derives from the French term meaning “to pass through a seaport,” harkening to the days when ship travel was the dominant means of journeying between countries. Most European states likewise developed systems to issue passports to their citizens and visas to visitors.

By the 19th century, passports in European countries had evolved from personally granted letters from monarchs into large, one-page documents issued by authorized government entities. In the United States, passports could be issued by states, cities and notaries public in addition to the Department of State until 1856, when the latter became the sole authority by an act of Congress.

19th century European passports, 1832, 1854. Sources: DuFour family papers (L046) and John B. Stoll collection (L149), Rare Books and Manuscripts, Indiana State Library.

At that time, the United States and most European countries did not require their citizens to obtain passports to traverse national borders except in times of war. Passports were issued on an ad hoc basis – often to government officials, the wealthy and people of prominence – to smooth the way for their voyaging citizens, but they were not necessary or viewed as long-term forms of identification. The passport of Russell B. Harrison, the son of President Benjamin Harrison, is an example of simple travel papers supplied to someone with high connections. His passport has no identifying information save, “Russell B. Harrison of Montana, a son of the President of the United States, is about proceeding abroad.”

Russell B. Harrison passport, 1889. Source: Benjamin Harrison collection (L063), Rare Books and Manuscripts, Indiana State Library.

Nineteenth century Euro-American passports were typically a single-sided page with the name of the traveler, their country of origin, a signature from the issuing authority and the issue date, at minimum. They might also include where the holder intended to travel or their purpose in doing so. The papers were not intended for long-term use or identification and often only utilized for single trips. Over the next few decades, passports would often indicate expiration dates, usually six months to two years after issuance. Many passports also included the age and physical description of the document holder, as illustrated by Watson J. Hasselman’s passport from 1873. Photographs would not be utilized for identification on passports until 1914.

Watson J. Hasselman passport, 1873. Source: Hasselman and Blood family papers (L385), Rare Books and Manuscripts, Indiana State Library.

According to the National Archives, the U.S. State Department issued 130,360 passports between 1810 and 1873. The majority of those passports were issued to white men. After reviewing countless passports, archives specialist Rebecca Sharp of the National Archives only encountered two passports granted to free Black men before the U.S. Civil War. Her finding is unsurprising, since African Americans, free or enslaved, did not have indisputable citizenship until the ratification of the 14th Amendment in 1868.

The rise of tourism in North America and Europe in the mid- to late 19th century caused difficulties for the existing passport and visa systems in Europe and in 1861, France abolished passports and visas, with the rest of Europe following suit. The U.S. continued issuing passports and many Americans still requested them to travel abroad for business, pleasure and to visit family. Over 369,844 passports were granted between 1877 and 1909, indicating the growing popularity of world travel in the late-19th and early 20th centuries.

Until the mid-1800s, it cost nothing to obtain an American passport. The first passport fee of $3 was imposed by Congress in 1862. The fees fluctuated wildly over the next several decades: first rising to $5 in 1865; dropping to zero during 1870-1871; up to $5 again in 1874; then $1 in 1888. The fees then stabilized until 1917 when they rose to $2, before jumping to $10 in 1920 – the most dramatic increase since passport fees were implemented 58 years earlier. Passport fees often made attaining them a luxury for many Americans, especially when they were not required to travel.

U.S. Department of State, “General instructions in regards to passports” document (S3463), Rare Books and Manuscripts, Indiana State Library.

By the outbreak of World War I in 1914, passport requirements were nonexistent nearly everywhere in Europe and the United States. The First World War brought new concerns for international security, prompting the requirement of passports and visas to travel abroad. In 1920, the League of Nations advocated the concept of a worldwide passport standard, introducing the modern passport format of a small booklet with pages for stamps. Most countries around the world began implementing the new uniform passport guidelines set forth by the League and agreed to continue or add passport requirements. In contrast, the U.S. passport requirement was only a war measure that officially ended when President Wilson left office in 1921. The U.S. was not a member of League of Nations – despite it being the brainchild of its aforementioned president – and did not require passports for international travel again until Nov. 29, 1941, mere days before the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

During the early 1920s, passports were still seen as ephemeral forms of identification so most early booklet passports were not meant to last. Passport covers made of paper were commonplace, as indicated by the 1923 German passport of Erich L. Riesterer, which was taped several times as it fell apart.

Post-World War I, the United States began issuing passport booklets with cardboard covers, but early on, the pages were large foldouts as seen in the 1922 passports of Margaret B. Pierson and the Marshalls in the next section. Regardless, passports were becoming necessities for American travelers if they wanted to visit countries that required them for entry. Interest in leisure travel surged after the war’s end, and when passport application fees dramatically increased in 1920, international travel grew far less feasible for people of limited means. Effectively, the passport requirements of other countries made obtaining an American passport a necessity to cross their borders, sometimes with the addition of costly visas.

Women with wanderlust
During the mid-19th century, men comprised 95 percent of passport applicants. If they were accompanied by dependents – such as wives, children, servants or female wards- their companions’ names, ages, and relationship to the man were stated on the application, if not the passport itself. Oftentimes, women were not even named on a man’s passport, simply denoted by “and wife.” Until the early 20th century, passports for married women in the United States and elsewhere were generally considered unnecessary. Instead, women continued to appear as mere afterthoughts on their husbands’ passports. The idea that a married women might need or desire to travel without their spouses was apparently inconceivable to their governments, while men could cross borders freely without their partners.

The following passports illustrate the differences between travel documentation for women based on their marital status. The first image shows the passport of a single woman, mathematician Margaret B. Pierson, issued on June 7, 1922. It includes her full name, physical description, date of birth, occupation and photograph, as well as the countries she intended to visit.

Margaret B. Pierson passport, 1922. Source: Margaret B. Pierson papers (S1038), Rare Books and Manuscripts, Indiana State Library.

The second example is the passport of Thomas Riley Marshall, former Indiana governor and Woodrow Wilson’s vice president, which includes his wife, Lois Kimsey Marshall. The only indications of her inclusion in the document are her photograph and the addendum that Marshall would be “accompanied by his wife Lois K.” on the first inside page.

By 1923, American women comprised over 40 percent of passport applicants, according to the National Archives. The passport of Mrs. Cora Calhoun Horne illustrates the new independence a married woman achieved by having her own travel document when she set off to tour Europe in 1929 accompanied, not by her husband, but by her female friend. Aside from the prefix of “Mrs.,” the only mention of her husband on her identification is the contact information provided “in case of death or accident.”

Unlike Horne, who took her husband’s surname, American women who retained their own names after marriage still had a bone to pick with State Department. The same year women attained the right to vote, writer Ruth Hale was issued a passport identifying her as “Mrs. Heywood Broun, otherwise known as Ruth Hale” despite having applied under her maiden name. In response, she cofounded the Lucy Stone League, which fought for a woman’s right to her maiden name. These women viewed passports as vital to their independent identities: if the State Department recognized the use of their birth names, then other government entities would surely follow. Despite a token victory in 1925 when press agent Doris Fleishmann, after several failed attempts, received a passport issued under her birth name, most women’s passports still recorded their identity as the wife of their husband. Finally, Passport Division supervisor Ruth Shipley unceremoniously dropped marital information on passports in 1937.

Horne’s trip abroad was noteworthy in another way. A middle-class African American woman living in Brooklyn, New York, Horne had both the means and the ability to apply for a passport and to travel abroad. Considering the immense legal and economic hardships facing Black Americans during the 1920s due to racial discrimination, Jim Crow, and the scarcity of educational and financial prospects, she had opportunities that many did not. Due to the discrimination facing them at home, having a passport and the resources to travel afforded many African American women and men – some of them performers, athletes and pioneers in their fields – greater opportunities outside the United States in the early to mid-20th century. World-renowned singer, actress and activist Lena Horne, Cora Calhoun Horne’s granddaughter, exemplified this trend.

“Recent” history
As illustrated by the above images, passports grew less ephemeral, undergoing a rapid transformation from the single-page document to a booklet. Beginning in 1926, American passports transformed into true pocket-size booklets with numerous pages and covers composed from more durable materials like the passports of today. Lengthier validity periods took a while to catch up to the more hardwearing form. The period until expiration for American passports increased from two years to three in 1959; to five years in 1968; and to the current ten years sometime after 1976. In essentials, the U.S. passport’s design essentially remained unchanged until a redesign in 2007. The most notable additions to passports and travel control in the 21st century have been the incorporation of technology, specifically microchips and biometrics. These changes in durability and longevity were the result of changes in how passports were utilized.

Following World War II, many countries used passports as a means of travel control due to subsequent global conflicts and national emergencies. In 1952, U.S. passport policy finally changed, requiring all American citizens to have passports to depart from or re-enter the United States, except for certain countries in North and Latin America. By this point, passports had become essential proof of citizenship and identity, particularly in terms of national security. Today, passports are treated as the highest form of identification and used to obtain a driver’s license, open bank accounts and secure housing and employment.

“Your Trip Abroad” pamphlet (U.S. Department of State), 1978. Source: General federal documents, Reference and Government Services, Indiana State Library.

Dramatic changes to society – caused by complex factors such as industrialization, increased access to education, the enfranchisement of women and people of color and war – shaped the role of U.S. passports, and their appearance, during the 19th and 20th centuries. Travel documents evolved from optional, transient means of protection and mobility for the mostly male Euro-American elite, to methods of establishing identity. For the newly enfranchised, like BIPOC and female Americans, passports became symbols of their full citizenship and offered access to opportunities abroad when their rights as citizens were denied them at home. From the perspective of governments, passports became necessary instruments of national security and mandatory forms of identification for people crossing their borders. In this way, the passport was an instrument of protection and freedom to some, while others came to view it as a method of control.

Author’s notes:

  • The title for the post was inspired by another one dated October 18, 2016 from fellow Manuscripts librarian Lauren Patton called, “A Brief History of the United States Passport.” It provides more detailed information about Watson J. Hasselman’s passport from 1873.
  • This post is a companion piece to my exhibit, The Hoosiers Abroad, on display in the Manuscripts Reading Room at the Indiana State Library until mid-September.
  • The history of passports is far broader and more complex than can be fully conveyed here. As our collection centers on Indiana history, and thus provides an abundance of European and American experiences through the mid-20th century, the focus of this post is necessarily limited and does not explore the history of passports in other cultures or parts of the world, nor the impact of imperialism and colonialism upon those cultures. There is much more to study on this topic, including the experiences of Americans of color and the working classes. Particularly, I wish to see more scholarship related to African Americans’ use of passports during the late 19th and 20th century as most of works I encountered ended at the Civil War period. Hopefully, this gap in the literature will eventually be addressed by scholars, allowing for an updated “Not-so-brief history” sometime in the future.

This blog post was written by Rare Books and Manuscripts librarian Brittany Kropf. For more information, contact the Rare Books and Manuscripts Division at 317-232-3671 or via “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Sources
Items from the Indiana State Library collection.

Government of Canada. “History of Passports.” Canada.ca. Modified April 10, 2014. https://www.canada.ca/en/immigration-refugees-citizenship/services/canadians/celebrate-being-canadian/teachers-corner/history-passports.html

Knisely, Sandra. “The 1920s Women Who Fought for the Right to Travel Under Their Own Names.” Atlas Obscura, March 27, 2017. https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/us-passport-history-women

Little, Becky. “See How Women Traveled in 1920.” National Geographic, August 24, 2018. https://www.nationalgeographic.com/travel/article/women-equality-day-history-politics-passport

Pines, Giulia. “The Contentious History of the Passport.” National Geographic, May 16, 2017. https://www.nationalgeographic.com/history/article/a-history-of-the-passport

Puckett, Jessica. “How the U.S. Passport Evolved from Status Symbol to Essential Travel Document.” Condé Nast Traveler, May 1, 2020. https://www.cntraveler.com/story/how-the-us-passport-evolved-from-status-symbol-to-essential-travel-document

Sharp, Rebecca. “A Rare Find: Passport Applications of Free Blacks.” Rediscovering Black History blog, July 22, 2020. https://rediscovering-black-history.blogs.archives.gov/2020/07/22/a-rare-find-passport-applications-of-free-blacks/

United States Passport Office. The United States Passport: Past, Present, Future. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1976.

United States National Archives and Records Administration. “Passport Applications.” National Archives. Last reviewed October 27, 2021. https://www.archives.gov/research/passport

United States National Archives and Records Administration. “Passport Applications, 1795-1925.” National Archives. Last revised November 2014. https://www.archives.gov/files/research/naturalization/400-passports.pdf

Wikipedia. “Passport.” Wikipedia.org. Accessed August 28, 2024. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Passport.

Wikipedia. “United States Passport.” Wikipedia.org. Accessed August 28, 2024. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_passport.

Luther Donnell and the escape of the Beach family

Luther Addison Donnell was born July 6, 1809 in Nicholas County, Kentucky. His father, Thomas Donnell and uncle, Samuel Donnell, were involved in the Kentucky Abolitionist Society at its onset. By 1823, the Donnells and other abolitionists had moved to Decatur County, Indiana. In 1836, Luther Donnell established the Decatur County Anti-Slavery Society and helped found the Indiana Anti-Slavery Society in 1838.

Donnell aided a woman – identified in court documents as Caroline, but who later changed her name to Rachel Beach – and her four children in their flight from enslavement. They escaped Oct. 31, 1847, from Trimble County, Kentucky and were in Decatur County the next day when they were assisted by Donnell and other residents. After crossing the Ohio River into Madison, Indiana, they were transported by a man named Waggoner to Douglas McCoy at McCoy’s Station before attempting to make it to Clarksburg under the cover of night. The woman and her children were housed with Jane Speed, a black woman who unfortunately lived near a refuted “slave-hunter,” Woodson Clark, who spied Speed’s son delivering food to the family in an un-used building on the property. Clark lured and entrapped Caroline into a building on his son’s property, insisting that she was unsafe and with promises to deliver her to the African American settlement near Clarksburg. African American residents who had been expecting the family, tracked them to the home of Woodson Clark and enlisted the assistance of Donnell to reunite and free the family. Mr. Donnell and a Mr. Hamilton applied for a writ of habeas corpus to search Clark’s property for the detained woman. Not finding her on Clark’s property, the search was extended to include the property of his sons. Caroline, bewildered and searching for her children, was found on one of the sons’ farms. George Ray and several slave-hunters appeared in town with their own writ allowing them to search for the family, however they had been hidden in a deep ravine. The usual route of the Underground Railroad from that point had recently been discovered and in order to evade the men hunting for her, she was disguised as a man and separated from her children, who were couriered on to the next point. Donnell, Hamilton and several other local men then escorted the family via carriage to William Beard’s home in Union County, Indiana. According to Canadian census records and a reference to a letter made by Hamilton, the family did make it across the Detroit River to Ontario, Canada.

Donnell was convicted in 1849 in Decatur Circuit Court of aiding fugitive slaves. The document in the Indiana State Library’s collection is an early 1848 affidavit which identifies only Amanda, one of Caroline’s daughters. George Ray also filed a civil suit against Donnell for the “value of his property” and received a judgment of $3,000 including court costs. In 1852, Donnell’s appeal went to the Indiana Supreme Court and he was a defendant in State of Indiana v. Luther A. Donnell which overturned the verdict against him based on the unconstitutionality of the earlier law.

This blog post was written by Lauren Patton, Rare Books and Manuscripts librarian, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Related digital collections: https://indianamemory.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p16066coll31/id/2462/rec/3
https://indianamemory.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p1819coll6/id/81818/rec/2

Sources:
Luther A. Donnell court document, 1848. S3480. Indiana State Library, Manuscripts Division, Indianapolis, IN. 17 June 2024.

Atlas of Decatur Co. Indiana. Knightstown, Ind.: Decatur County Historical Society, Inc., 1976.

“State of Indiana v. Luther A. Donnell collection, 1848-1849.” University of Michigan William M. Clements Library. Accessed June 17, 2024. https://findingaids.lib.umich.edu/catalog/umich-wcl-M-7175sta.

“The Story of Luther Donnell.” Indiana Department of Natural Resources. Accessed June 17, 2024. https://www.in.gov/dnr/historic-preservation/files/donnell.pdf

“Escape of Caroline 1847.” Indiana Historical Bureau. Accessed June 17, 2024. https://www.in.gov/history/state-historical-markers/find-a-marker/escape-of-caroline-1847/

Eliason, Laura. “Luther A. Donnell court record.” Indiana State Library. Last modified October 7, 2021. https://archives.isl.lib.in.us/repositories/2/resources/6179

“Donnell v State 1852.” Indiana Historical Bureau. Accessed June 17, 2024. https://www.in.gov/history/state-historical-markers/find-a-marker/donnell-v-state-1852/

Save Woodruff Place

On Sept. 18, 1953, residents of Woodruff Place were invited to attend a town hall meeting via a flyer proclaiming that “time is of the essence.” The flyer – a copy of which can be found in the Small Broadsides Collection at the Indiana State Library – provides a glimpse into the hard-fought battle that ultimately resulted in the annexation of Woodruff Place into the city of Indianapolis.

Now a near-east side neighborhood, the town was established in the 1870s by James O. Woodruff, best known for creating the city’s water system, and it remained an independent town within city limits after it was incorporated in 1876. Councilman J. Wesley Brown introduced the annexation ordinance multiple times in 1953 before it was passed in September, but it was formally enacted only after nine years of protests and legal battles. The final blow to resistant Woodruff Place residents came in February 1962 after the Supreme Court decided not to review the case, the next logical step after the Indiana Supreme Court upheld the annexation the previous year. At the time of annexation, it comprised around 1,700 residents.

The reason for annexation cited by the city was the need for Woodruff Place residents to pay their share of taxes, though the incorporated town did already pay the city fees for trash, sewage, education, police, fire and the General Hospital. Residents cited concerns over losing zoning power – which was eventually addressed – amid increased industrialization of the surrounding area and control over the features that typified the area, such as the iconic fountains. The debate was often heated, with one resident in the Sept. 4, 1960 issue of the Indianapolis Star comparing the city’s views on their right to annex Woodruff Place to “what the Russians think about the people of Hungary.” The press could also be critical of Woodruff Place in turn. In an Indianapolis Star op-ed supporting annexation in Oct. 22, 1953, for instance, the author likened the city to a Roman town, referring to both as “tombs of entanglement.”

One of the fountains in Woodruff Place. From the Indiana State Library’s Oversize General Photograph Collection.

In 1954, amid a drastic increase in service fees levied after annexation was initially challenged by residents, the town agreed only to pay for fire and for a period the city was only served by county sheriff’s office. Later, after it was determined that the Indianapolis treasury could not be used to fight the legal battle, Woodruff Place residents raised the money via donations from both resident homeowners and renters. This fund was referred to as a “War Fund” in the press.

With many residents now only ever knowing Woodruff Place as a charming neighborhood, it is now perhaps best know for its flea market, which has taken place the first week of June as a neighborhood fundraiser since 1975.

This post was written by Victoria Duncan, Rare Books and Manuscripts supervisor.

‘Hands off!’ The diary of Margaret Elliott

A recent acquisition of the Rare Books and Manuscripts Division has proved a charming read: “The Diary of Margaret Elliott” (V580), a sophomore at Purdue University in 1925. Born Nov. 29, 1905 in Logansport, she spent most of her life in Lucerne in Cass County, where she still lived when she died on Aug. 22, 1974 at IU Medical in Indianapolis.

Senior yearbook photo from the 1927 Debris, Indiana Serials, ISLI 378 P985d, 1927.

Elliott, who attended with her sister Lottie, was an exceptionally engaged student both academically and socially. In addition to pledging Alphi Chi Omega, she was a member of the Philalethian Literary Society, a women’s society founded in 1877; the Y.W.C.Q; and the Purdue Girl’s Club. She speaks about classes in English, French, Psychology, Physics, History and Education. She was of the first class to have an honor roll at Purdue known as the “distinguished students,” and her name is included among the ranks.

Throughout the diary, she only ever refers to her place of residence as “the house,” but it can be assumed to be the Alphi Chi Omega sorority house. The Purdue Ladies Hall, demolished in 1929, would have still been standing at the time of her tenure, but would surely not have been referred to as a “house.” The diary documents the many social events of Greek life in Purdue in this lively period, as well as the dress and behavior – including drinking by some of her male classmates – among the students.

Photo of the Alpha Chi Omega sorority house from the 1925 Debris, Indiana Serials, ISLI 378 P985d, 1925.

Her account of college life is still in many ways relatable: staying up until 3 a.m. with boys and cramming for tests. In April she writes: “Too much high, fast, hard living!” and in August: “Oh diary, am I wicked or so terribly different from other girls that I can’t like one man alone? It seems there always must be two before I am happy.”

Rare Books and Manuscripts Division, V580.

Indeed, the date juggling – sometimes more than one in the same night – with the passionate “Tex” and reliable “Nat” make this volume a page-turner. Though the senior portrait of Margaret does not evoke that of the “New Woman” flapper ethos, she certainly was a liberated college student by modern standards – coming and going as she pleased and seemingly enjoying the company of anyone she chose. It did not appear that her place of residence had rules about having men over, or at least they weren’t heavily enforced. Purdue admitted women as of 1875 and so her presence was not have been particularly novel; however, she did not exactly embody the traits of the “ideal ‘Purdue Man’” as outlined in the 1927 Debris, Purdue’s yearbook. However, she is a great reminder that Purdue has been important to Hoosier education for more than engineering – and for more than just male education.

Seen here in her sorority group photo, she has the more quintessential flapper bob. From the 1925 Debris, Indiana Serials, ISLI 378 P985d, 1925.

The diary is a record of a young woman who was not ready to commit to a life determined by her male suitors, each of which talked about taking her back home with them. She did avoid settling down for a period even after she graduated from Purdue, only finally marrying in 1935. This ended her career as a school teacher of English and History at schools in Tipton township, including the old Walton High School, which became Tipton Township High School. She resigned from Delphi-Deer Creek Township High School in Delphi – also long ago consolidated – a month after she married Earl D. York, born on Oct. 17, 1900, from North Grove. York worked for the Foreign Sales office for Texaco, and died on Dec. 11, 1990.

Though we have no evidence of whether quitting teaching was something she did wholeheartedly, it is hard not to assume that it was at least bittersweet for her. However, there is evidence that this educated dreamer lived a full life and did some traveling, with passenger manifest showing that she took trips to Panama and England and that, like many Hoosiers, she spent time in Florida.

Diaries can be hit and miss in terms of their research value and whether they provide any real insight into the time periods they document, depending heavily on the style of the writers who penned them. Not every diary can be saved, and many of them touch on only the most salient points of a day, often serving more as a daily calendar that doesn’t offer much even for piecing together family histories. The particular diary offers much in that it traces many ups and downs of both herself and fellow students. Her account of the 1925 automobile accident that killed two of her classmates, for instance, included a newspaper clipping slipped in between the pages as well as descriptive account of the accident and subsequent funeral.

Rare Books and Manuscripts Division, V580.

Diary page and unidentified clipping, Margaret Elliott diary, Rare Books and Manuscripts Division.

Her love of literature also colors the document, as she includes numerous quotes from writers such as Tennyson, Kipling and many more relatively forgotten writers who were popular at the time, as well as prominent writers on women’s issues including Sarah Grand and Margaret Widdemer. An afternoon could be spent happily just identifying the quotes in her books, but one Honoré de Balzac quote sticks out: “Marriage is a matter of one’s whole life; love is a matter of pleasure.” It seems Margaret had both, as well as a rich internal life – a life well lived!

This post was written by Victoria Duncan, Rare Books and Manuscripts supervisor.

A vault shakin’, box makin’, history savin’ new machine

This fall, the Indiana State Library purchased a large – and lovely, if I do say so myself – new piece of equipment, a Gunnar Aiox digital cutting machine. Now, this machine can do a lot, but our initial uses for it will be greatly increasing the range of producible archival boxes, vastly expanding economic efficiency and massively reducing the time spent by Indiana State Library staff in terms of actually making the boxes themselves. Before this machine, staff were hand-making boxes by cutting and flaying archival board and then trying to fold and glue the board together effectively enough so that the box would last for decades. A single box would take anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half, and box cleanliness, looks and regularity were sorely missing.

The Gunnar Aiox Hybrid XL, a state-of-the-art cutting machine, is capable of cutting anywhere from four to six boxes utilizing an amount of board previously used for only two boxes. The boxes can vary in size and shape and take about 25 minutes from design of the box on the associated computer program to the final cut being made. Then, it takes about another 10 minutes to fold up all of the boxes and get the books inside their new homes. This is an incredible amount of time and effort being saved, but – and maybe most importantly – the way the boxes are made with the machine requires no glue or adhesive whatsoever. Everything is done with precise folding theory and technique via the Aiox. This has increased the possible use time for these boxes – which are made with acid free archival board of varying sizes – by decades and without needing constant checks to see if any adhesive is coming undone. The time saved might not be truly stateable, as we weren’t exactly keeping track of the time it took to make a box before. Now, we’re making boxes in no time. The ease of box making – once figured out – has been just wonderful and we’re now starting to realize how we can make and design the boxes even more efficiently than the original templates. This technology also allows us a lot more functional scrap material for smaller boxes, box/material support and general reusability. With this scrap, we’ve been able to experiment and learn about the machine in a lot more effective manner as well. And in all honesty, as someone who isn’t great with arts and crafts, this machine makes a much better box than I ever did before it arrived.

Unfortunately, we are starting in quite cramped quarters, as the Aiox was put into our current digitization laboratory, so the supplies for the Aiox are spread throughout the library. Come April, however, our digitization lab will be moved into a bigger room that’s more able to support the functions required, and the former digitization lab will be converted fully to more effectively house the Aiox and all of the required materials for box making. All of us are quite excited about the eventual move, as the process can be a bit loud and makes it difficult to do digitization work with a giant machine whirring around you. However, the machine can be operated in mostly dark conditions in case someone is working on digitization at the same time. We all tend to agree it will be much nicer to have two separate rooms, one dedicated to each process, though.

As far as ease of use goes, I was unable to be here when the professional from Gunnar was here to train us, but through the notes of my colleagues and with a bit of testing cardboard to put through the paces, I figured out how to operate the machine with comfort and ease in just a couple of sessions. Most of us who need to use the machine can figure it out in just a couple of testing sessions and can continue on without needing anyone else there to help, further increasing efficiency and time management. And I must say, this machine makes my life – in terms of storing materials that are sometimes older than the United States – a lot less stressful, because I know what I’m producing is a lot safer and more accurate than I could have ever made by hand.

As someone who is only mildly tech-savvy, this machine was a bit daunting to look at and use at first, but the instructions are actually fairly simple and the true difficulty and intricacy of the machine lie in uses we haven’t even turned toward yet. We’re only just starting to use the machine with any kind of production line efficacy, and the possibilities moving forward can only grow. It’s also been a rather fun project to come together to work on and figure out. Nearly every division in the library has someone who uses the machine. Being able to make connections with co-workers through some rather humorous mistakes – we have a hilarious pile of failed boxes on test-board – is a another lovely way this piece of technology has been a benefit to the library.

This blog post was submitted by A.J. Chrapliwy of the Rare Books and Manuscripts Division of the Indiana State Library. 

Richard Wiggington Thompson, politician, orator, lawyer and judge

Politician, orator, lawyer and judge Richard Wiggington Thompson was born in 1809 in Culpepper, Virginia. He moved to Lawrence County, Indiana in the 1830s and began practicing law in Bedford. Thompson began his political career in the Indiana House of Representatives in 1834, moving into the Senate after one term. He was then elected to the U.S. House of Representatives in 1841 and 1847. He was a noted orator in Terre Haute and served as city attorney in 1846 to 1847. With a political career spanning 40 years, he saw many changes in the country. His political affiliations changed from Whig to American Party (Know Nothing) from the 1850s-1860 to Constitutional Union from 1860-1861, and finally, to the Republican Party from 1861-1900.

Table of contents in a notebook of Thompson’s writings.

In addition to having a long career, Thompson was also serving the country during one of its most contentious periods. He was the commander of Camp Thompson in Indiana and provost marshal of the Terre Haute district during the U.S. Civil War. Then President Lincoln appointed him collector of internal revenue for the 7th Indiana District from 1864 until 1866. As judge, Thompson presided over the 5th Circuit Court before President Hayes appointed him to the cabinet as Secretary of the Navy. In 1881, he resigned to become chairman of the American Committee of the French Panama Canal Company and a director of the Panama Railroad Company  from 1881-1889.

Letter on Union troop needs.

His digitized collection contains personal and official correspondence, speeches, his writings on various topics including slavery, suffrage, and Reconstruction, his wife, Harriet’s, diary, certificates and commissions, newspaper clippings and legislation. Major correspondents include Joseph A. Wright, John D. Defrees, Oliver P. Morton, Walter Gresham, John W. Foster, Rutherford B. Hayes and others.

Appointment letter.

Ranging from 1818 to 1931, this collection documents major changes in the American political landscape in the 19th century.

This blog post was written by Lauren Patton, Rare Books and Manuscripts librarian, Indiana State Library. For more information, contact the Indiana State Library at 317-232-3678 or “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Hibben artworks on digital display

The Hibben family papers are a tremendous gem in the Indiana State Library. With records, correspondence, pictures and artworks from 1840 to 1937, there is a wide breadth of material among the collection. However, today we are going to look at the artists of the family whose works the Indiana State library is lucky enough to have: Louise Douglas Hibben, her brother Thomas Entrekin Hibben, Sr., and his son, Thomas Entrekin Hibben, Jr.Louise Hibben was born in 1867 and was the youngest of three children born to James Samuel Hibben. Taking after her older brother Thomas, Hibben would see art as a way to showcase the natural world around her, though her portrayals tended to get more abstract the longer she worked. Primarily specializing as a painter, Hibben has a range of pieces that have been collected by the State Library and her works have been shown in galleries from The Indiana Museum of Art at Newfields to the National Museum of Women in the Arts.

Thomas Entrekin Hibben, Sr. was a successful businessman and artist working in both Rushville then Indianapolis. Mainly focusing on etchings and lithographs, Hibben would work on improving the etching process of the time himself but have an artistic drive to capture real life scenes as still lives or landscapes. Inspiring both his little sister and his son, Hibben, Sr. was a force for the artistic endeavors in Indiana in the two communities he was a part of, becoming known as an acknowledged patron of the arts and was the first artist at the Indianapolis News.

Thomas Entrekin Hibben, Jr. was an architect by trade, studying at Princeton, Penn and schools in London and Paris, but like his father before him loved capturing the buildings and landscapes around himself in the form of drawings and lithographs. Hibben, Jr. also helped design buildings for Butler University and was involved in the Lincoln Boyhood National Memorial. He served in both world wars, would act as a governmental advisor for several New Deal and foreign economic development programs, and would represent the United States as an ambassador to Pakistan.

These aren’t all of the artists in the Hibben family lineage, as Thomas Entrekin Sr.’s daughter Helene Louise Hibben would be quite talented artist herself, specializing in sculptures, particularly bronze. Helene Hibben studied under well-known sculptures Lorado Taft and James Earle Fraser and even had some of her art purchased by the Library of Congress, a couple of her bas-relief portraits. The Indiana State Library does not currently have any pieces by Helene Hibben, but the materials collected about the Hibben family that the library currently houses can be viewed here.

This blog post was submitted by A.J. Chrapliwy, Rare Books and Manuscripts Division. 

Indiana county fairs – Early fairs of the 1800s

Not everyone lives close enough to come to the one state fair in their state, which is why county fairs are so important. They’re a feasible way to bring local people together for an exchange of ideas, foods, farming and fun. Though the first Indiana State Fair occurred in 1852, the idea of the county fair was one that had been tried by local agricultural associations in Indiana since the 1830s.1 2 Sensing a need for a way for farming families to come together, the agricultural associations came up with the idea of a county fair so that these farming communities could exchange agricultural methods, personally developed farming implements, homemade culinary ideas and more. Though the idea was widespread, the passion for these events from the locals themselves just wasn’t there and most of these early fairs folded before the 1850s. However, with the emergence of the Indiana State Fair, and the continued success that it maintained, many smaller agricultural associations decided it would be worth the risk to try again and bring back their smaller county fairs. Only this time, the concept stuck, and enjoyment of the county fair would be something that the people from the 1850s and the Hoosiers of today still have in common.

Premium cover of the 1871 Tippecanoe County Fair.

The draws for many to come to these county fairs wasn’t to relax, but to compete. When many of the county fairs came back, they came back with a draw for the farming families in the area. Premiums, or monetary rewards for winning different types of competitions, were offered for all sorts of different types of contests. The earliest Premium List that we have at the Indiana State Library comes from the Tippecanoe County Fair in 1871 and has a listed $3,500 in premiums being given out, slightly more than $87,000 today.3 Showing how much some of these fairs were growing, just a decade later the Tippecanoe County Fair would be giving out over $7,000 in prizes, more than $223,000 today. Entry tickets back then were actual paper tags that were tied in a visible spot on the fair patron’s clothing or wrist. Prices were usually 25 cents throughout the 1800s and it was typically another 10 cents to stable or tie up your horse and carriage. Animal showing competitions, which are still a staple in many county fairs today, were by far the biggest draw in terms of different types of animals to show and prizes received.

Animal competition during the 1871 Tippecanoe County Fair.

Horse racing competitions were an early staple of the fair throughout the state and premiums were extremely high for these no matter the county. There were also early competitions in fabric making, artistry, farm implement craftmanship, artisanship, cooking, clothes crafting and more. The competitions would change depending on the materials of the local communities.

Women’s competitions during the 1881 Tippecanoe County Fair.

Culinary competitions of the 1885 Vigo County Fair.

The list of the premiums would be sent out as a flyer before the fair containing the competitions available, rules and regulations of the fair and competitions, the prizes for each, and of course, tons of advertising. These advertisements in the Premium Lists are incredibly diverse. Ranging from boots, embalming services and animal feed to clocks, jewelry and fine glassware; the advertisements can tell us a lot about what the people of the times, needed or were interested in. And when it came to trying to make sure interest was always high, more and varying types of competitions and sideshow attractions were brought to the county fairs. Ladies’ Work, the categories of competition being stereotypically limited by their times, became popularized throughout the 1870s. The Ladies’ Work events were mostly linked to competing in arenas such as embroidery and needlework, flower arrangement, wig and hair work, women’s clothing and small furniture making. Though most of these competitions would only be giving out diplomas of victory to the women, not actual premiums until the 1880s. Competitions were specifically put in place so that children could have an arena of their own to show off their young skills. During the 1890s, musical acts or performers became a common event during the fair days.

Greensburg County Fair flyer.

County fairs in Indiana would continue to adapt and connect their local communities throughout the 1900s following their reemergence in the 1850s. They would adapt technology to bring tractor pulls, stock car races and carnival rides to the scene, a far cry from the early trading of farming implements.4 Performers from across the country would soon be paid to come and play at these local venues, giving Hoosiers a taste of the wider entertainment scene. Almost 170 years later, the tradition of the county fair is something that every single one of the 92 counties in Indiana offer to everyone.5 They occur mostly in June or July, though Lake and Dekalb counties have theirs in August and September respectively. Click here to see the 2023 Indiana county fair dates.

So, with a bit of history narrated, it’s now time to go out this summer and experience a slice of a local Indiana community by visiting one of our many wonderful county fairs in Indiana!

This blog post was written by Rare Books and Manuscripts program coordinator A.J. Chrapliwy.

1.Jackson, Steven. (2010, July 03). “In History: Madison County’s legacy of fairs.” The Herald Bulletin. Retrieved on May 15, 2023, from In History: Madison County’s legacy of fairs | MAD Life | heraldbulletin.com.

2.Hale, Michelle. (1994) “Marion County Fair.” Indyencyclopedia. Retrieved on May 15, 2023, from Marion County Fair – indyencyclopedia.org.

3.Webster, Ian. (2023, May 17) “Inflation Calculator.” Official Inflation Data, Alioth Finance. Retrieved on May 15, 2023, from U.S. Inflation Calculator: 1635→2023, Department of Labor data (officialdata.org).

4.Conybeare, Brian. (2018, July 20) “History of the Elkhart County 4-H Fair.” ABC57. Retrieved on May 15 2023, from History of the Elkhart County 4-H Fair (abc57.com).

5.“Indiana Association of Fairs and Festivals.” (2023) 2023 4-H County Fair Dates. Indiana Fairs and Festivals. Retrieved on May 15, 2023, from 2023 4-H County Fair Dates (indianafairsandfestivals.org).

Calling all Indiana poets – INverse Poetry Archive accepting submissions

From now until April 30, INverse Poetry Archive is accepting its fourth round of submissions from Hoosier poets. Your poetry could join that of many other talented poets from all walks of life and skill levels in building a rich repository of the human experience. Current and former residents of the state are encouraged to apply if they have lived in Indiana for at least five years and their poems meet the spirit of the project.

The digital archive debuted in October of 2019, with the first batch of poems available Sept. 1, 2020. The project was the brainchild of former 2018-19 Indiana Poet Laureate Adrian Matejka – now editor of Poetry magazine – and intended to celebrate, capture and preserve the works of Indiana’s diverse poets for future generations. It is a collaboration between the Indiana Poet Laureate, the Indiana Arts Commission and the Indiana State Library.

Access to modern poetry, especially online, can be limited due to copyright laws. INverse allows students and poetry lovers to study and enjoy the works of Hoosier poets for free. Each year, living poets, or the heirs of deceased ones, select a few of their poems to submit to the archive, allowing their accessibility while retaining their rights of ownership. Poets may submit up to three poems per cycle, every three years, up to a total of 10 poems. If you’re interested in submitting your poems to INverse, please read the entire list of eligibility criteria.

The following poem, from Suzy Harris of Indianapolis, was added to the archive last year.

“Garage of Amazements”
The neighbors across the street
had a garage of amazements:
a bicycle that folded into an umbrella,
a red car with giant bird wings
that purred like a cat.
And one day something new –
silvery handlebars gloating
over a leather seat that sat
throne-like over a tangle of machinery
and two wide wheels.

The neighbor convinces my father
to ride this heaving machine.
We stand in the grass watching
my father climb on,
the motorcycle moving under him
down the long curving driveway
until, as if in slow motion,
he spills onto the mix of gravel and grass
by the road in front of the house,
blood pouring from his head.
We are afraid to go near,
wonder if he is dead,

but the neighbor, who is a doctor,
strides over, helps my father to a stand,
and walks him into the kitchen
where he pours my dad a whisky
and stitches him up
with a needle and thread
as we watch from the doorway.
The doctor pours himself a whisky too
and they swear at each other
as friends like that do.

Alive, we think, alive alive-o,
humming his favorite song.

This blog post was written by Rare Books and Manuscripts librarian Brittany Kropf. For more information, contact the Rare Books and Manuscripts Division at 317-232-3671 or via “Ask-A-Librarian.”

Recent acquisition: Albert J. Beveridge collection

This fall, the Rare Book and Manuscripts Division of the Indiana State Library accessioned additions to the Albert J. Beveridge collection. Compiled by his second wife, Catherine Eddy Beveridge (1881-1970), and including instances of her notes, it comprises correspondence, manuscripts, publications and artifacts. These items supplement the existing correspondence, speeches and one portrait, as seen below.

Albert Jeremiah Beveridge was born on Oct. 6, 1862 near Sugar Tree Ridge, Ohio. In 1885, he graduated from Indiana Asbury College (DePauw University). In 1887,  Beveridge married Katherine Langsdale, was admitted to the Indiana bar and began practicing law in Indianapolis. Beveridge married Catherine Eddy in 1907, seven years after the death of his first wife. In 1899, Beveridge was elected to the U.S. Senate as a Republican and served six terms as a senator, during which time he was known for, among other things, fighting for child labor legislation.

In 1911, he returned to Indianapolis, starting a new career as a biographer and penning works on the lives of John Marshall and Abraham Lincoln after an unsuccessful bid for the Indiana governorship as a Progressive candidate in 1912. In the same year, he was the chairman of the National Progressive Convention at Chicago. He died on April 27, 1927 in Indianapolis.

Highlights of the recent acquisitions include a photograph of Beveridge with President Theodore Roosevelt, his wedding invitation and political badges.

This post was written by Victoria Duncan, Rare Books and Manuscripts supervisor.

Sources
Banta, Ray E., comp. “Indiana Authors and their Books, 1816-1916.” Crawfordsville, IN: Wabash College, 1949.

United States Congress. “Beveridge, Albert J. Biographical Directory of the United States Congress.” Dec. 13, 2005.