The Archive Alcove

Tag: 1880s

Alumni Reunion Trivia Question: What were the original colors of Grinnell College?

By

On May 28, 2026

In 2025-26

Grinnell sports teams decided to ditch their original school colors in 1891, in favor of Scarlett and Black, which was seen as more sporting/manly.

Question: What were the original school colors?

Answer: Pink and Green, as modeled by the football team (the 1889 squad is pictured on top, jaunty headware and all, while the 1890 squad is pictured below them).

Pink was actually quite popular as a school color in the 19th century. In fact, Syracuse University also sported Green and Pink as their school colors, until they abandoned them in favor of blue and orange in the 1890s, as well. Today, there are few schools with these colors, although North High School in Des Moines, still proudly wears pink and green each year. Go Polar Bears!

The Men’s Baseball team was actually the first to abandon the school colors, choosing scarlet and black uniforms for their 1891 season. Here they are pictured a couple of years later in those outfits.

 

Weather Alert: Grinnell’s First System of Weather Warnings (1888)

By

On April 4, 2026

In 2025-26, Uncategorized

We have certainly experienced a lot of turbulent weather in the past week or two—with temperatures varying wildly from day-to-day, and severe cold fronts bringing thunderstorms (with the accompanying threat of high winds, hail, or tornados). How did prior generations of Grinnellians deal with this kind of volatile and dangerous weather?

One of the first notable steps towards a public warning system appears to have developed in the spring of 1888, when the college joined the federal government’s network of voluntary weather observatories. Run by the Signal Service, in the Department of War, this program created a network of volunteer observatories throughout the country, which would record a series of meteorological measurements each day, using calibrated instruments provided by the government, and in turn, would receive daily forecasts and weather charts (via telegraph), which would be communicated to the public by flying large, specialized weather flags, atop their buildings. Goodnow Hall served as the first weather observatory, when the college joined this system in the spring of 1888, with Prof Samuel Buck (Mathematics and Astronomy) overseeing this project.

Goodnow, which was built only a few years earlier, in the wake of the devastating tornado of 1882, was designed to serve as the college’s new library and astronomical observatory. To serve as a weather station, two large poles were added to the building—one, was attached to the observatory tower, and served as the flagpole used to fly the 6 large weather flags that an inland station would use (coastal sites, carried a larger number of storm flags particular to maritime conditions), while the second pole was erected in the center of the building’s roofline to carry the sensitive anemometer, which sent electrical signals to a self-recording device (a chronograph) that captured a constant record of wind direction and speed. Pictures & drawings of Goodnow from this period usually include these two features of the building, which disappeared later. And the fluttering weather flags would have been a prominent feature of the local skyline (each flag was more than 6 feet in length, so that they could be seen from far away.

The most prominent and important of the flags was the “Cold Wave” flag (pictured here), that warned of a coming cold front that could lead to dramatic storms throughout the year. The danger that such cold fronts posed were particularly on the mind of Americans in the spring of 1888, when Grinnell joined this forecasting network, because of two, recent, traumatic events. On January 12, 1888, what started out as a very warm and mild day turned into one of the fiercest blizzards in the upper Midwest that struck unexpectedly that afternoon, trapping many school children who were trying to walk home from their rural schoolhouses. It is estimated that nearly 300 people died from exposure in what became known as the  “Children’s Blizzard”; and in March, an equally sudden and ferocious blizzard descended on the Northeast (again leading to a staggering loss of life, and paralyzing much of the region). It seems likely, then, that the timing of Grinnell’s entry into the Signal Service network was driven by these recent events. Throughout the nation, people clamored for better ways to communicate forecasts and warn about impending weather dangers. The flags that flew each day over Goodnow were a visible attempt to address those concerns, and would continue to alert the public until radio broadcasts rendered this system obsolete.

The Liberal Arts Curriculum at Grinnell: c.1870-1895

By

On February 2, 2026

In 2025-26

In light of recent faculty discussions, underscoring the desire for more consistent reflection and conversation about the meaning of a liberal arts education at Grinnell, we’re going to spend some time this spring highlighting how this issue has played out over the college’s history. The early years of Iowa College—both in Davenport and then subsequently in Grinnell—saw very few students attaining a bachelor’s degree, and little structure in terms of the requirement for the B.A. (most of the students were enrolled in the preparatory academy). It was the period after the Civil War, when Grinnell’s first President, George Magoun, took charge that the faculty created an organized curriculum and set of requirements for entering college students, which would hold sway until a series of curricular reforms in the 1890s.

How did Grinnell approach a liberal arts education in 1870 (when the students pictured here, entered the college)?  There were four main “courses,” or tracks, that students could pursue:

1.) a classical course, leading to the Bachelor’s of Arts (A.B.) degree

2.) a scientific course, leading to the Bachelor’s of Science (B.S.) degree

3.) a “Ladies Course,” (explained in the catalog page below) that evolved a decade later into the “Literary” course, and increased from 3 to 4 years. This course, however, led to a diploma rather than a bachelor’s degree.

4.) an “Optional Studies” course, which allowed students to freely choose the classes they wanted to take, but did not lead to a formal diploma or degree.

As you will see (below), each of these tracks were pretty rigid in terms of specifying the array and sequence of courses students would take each year.

Printed, here, are the course requirements and sequencing for those three main tracks, established in 1870.  All students were also required to attend religious service each morning (and twice on Sundays) while Men were required to participate in “military drill.”

In 1875, a Conservatory, or School of Music, was also created as a separate institution (although it was under the supervision of the same board of trustees as the college). It initially awarded diplomas, but by 1890, it also offered a Bachelor’s of Music degree to those who completed the full course of study involving musical theory, musical history, musical education, and demonstrated proficiency in one major, and one minor, instrument. It’s also worth noted that, at this time period, Grinnell College continued to run its preparatory Academy as well as a sizable “English or Normal School” that focused on training future school teachers. At times, the Academy and Normal school enrollment was much larger than the number of students in these collegiate tracks.

Carrie Adeline Barbour: Artist, Paleontologist, & Professor

By

On November 24, 2025

In 2025-26

 

Last week’s post focused on the college’s museum of natural history; or more precisely, the third iteration of this museum, that was assembled after the devastating cyclone of 1882. As the new collection began to come together in Blair Hall, the college hired its first geologist and paleontologist, Erwin H. Barbour, who became the Stone Professor of Natural History, charged with overseeing the museum and related coursework. In addition to his academic training, Erwin had spent several years doing field work out west, serving as assistant paleontologist for the U.S. Geological Survey.

But Erwin Barbour did not come to Grinnell alone. His sister, Carrie Adeline Barbour, also joined the faculty at this time, teaching studio art courses in carving, ceramics, and porcelain painting (which she had studied at Oxford Female College, later absorbed into Miami of Ohio, and at a fine arts school in Cincinnati). Given the close links between art and science that existed in the world of natural history, as well as the tendency for family members to participate in the collective work of science, in an era before paid staff and technicians, it is not surprising to discover that Carrie Barbour became involved in the geological and paleontological work of her brother. Carrie was also personally drawn to the subject, revealing that her mother, Adeline Barbour, had instilled in both of her children a deep love of natural history and collecting specimens.

On the right of the image, Carrie Barbour stands on a short ladder and uses a chisel to work on the dinosaur femur. The femur is fastened to wooden boards, which hold it vertically. In the background are tables and shelves with other artifacts and equipment. Digitized from glass-plate negative.

Eventually, Erwin left Grinnell College in 1891 to establish a geology department and museum at the University of Nebraska. Carrie was torn between continuing her career as an art professor, and taking up a position at Nebraska, working with her brother as a full-time paleontologist. “I realized I couldn’t divide my time between the two jobs and accomplish much in either,” she later recalled, “Fossils fascinated me so much I decided to continue a thorough work with them.” Over the next 40 years, Carrie Barbour carved out a remarkable career in paleontology, becoming an assistant curator of the museum, a professor of paleontology, an author of noted scientific papers, and perhaps most unusual for a female scientist at this time, a leader of field expeditions and excavations.

Although Carrie Barbour eventually received recognition, and an academic position of her own, her experience is also part of a larger story about the often-hidden role that wives, sisters, and daughters played in an age when academic work was often a shared, family endeavor while academic publication and credit was limited to the (mostly male) professoriate.

 

 

 

 

The Giants of the Natural History Museum

By

On November 17, 2025

In 2025-26

One of the casualties of the 1882 tornado was the college’s natural history museum, which had been housed in the “Central” building, destroyed by a combination of wind and fire. This was not the first time disaster had struck the museum. In 1870, a previous museum had been lost in a fire that consumed the East Building. But like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the college was undeterred by these previous losses, and sent its resident naturalist, Prof. H.W. Parker, on a tour of the east coast to raise funds for a new museum. Paker exceeded all expectations, returning to campus “as a conquering hero” (the Grinnell Herald reported) with donor pledges totaling in the thousands of dollars–enough to equip the museum with the finest natural history collection west of the Mississippi.

The college chose to spend much of these funds buying the “complete” line of exhibit specimens from Henry A. Ward, a charismatic naturalist and entrepreneur, who ran a series of elaborate workshops at the University of Rochester that churned out taxidermic specimens, reproduction casts of fossils, and many other exhibit collections used by museums around the country. Grinnell spent roughly $7,000 to acquire a complete set of taxidermic and fossil specimens from Ward, including three large, pre-historic items that attracted considerable attention (all three are captured in this picture, below, from Dartmouth’s museum): the Megatherium (i.e. Giant Sloth), the Glyptodont (a kind of giant armadillos), and the Plesiosaurus (hanging on the wall on the left).

The museum remained in Blair Hall, until the 1950s, when it was dismantled as the surrounding science departments moved from Blair Hall into the new “Hall of Science” that would become the nucleus of the Noyce Science Center.

Viewing the Cyclone of 1882

By

On February 3, 2025

In 2024-25

On the evening of June 17, 1882, two tornadoes joined together (near 8th Ave and Broad St.) to form one devastating “cyclone” that destroyed many buildings on campus and in town, killing nearly 40 people (2 of whom were students at the college). This local tragedy received national attention, as various newspapers and magazines reported on the devastation.

Images of the aftermath were highly sought after, and some companies began to create stereoscopic cards, known as “stereoviews” that allowed for a kind of immersive, 3-D, experience of the scene. Pictured above is one of the popular Holmes stereoscopes, along with a set of stereoviews showing the destruction wrought by the cyclone in Grinnell.

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén