Collections of Curios: The Weird Stuff in the College Museum

        Housed in the west wing on the second floor of College Hall, the Museum space was adorned with ash and walnut display cabinets of all sizes and shapes. The area had expanded twice since its inception in 1879. When the Carnegie Science Hall was built in 1908, the large geological collection was taken away from College Hall and set up in the new building. Then in 1915, the growing Library was moved out of College Hall and into the Emmerson Memorial Library. Removing the Library meant that the Museum had room to grow from one room to two. The adjacent rooms complimented each other with high ceilings, allowing the tall windows to let in lots of natural light. A narrow balcony encircled the upper half both rooms, where shorter displays and built-in shelving could be viewed behind a low railing.

        As a history professor, Dr. Menzies was naturally interested in the Museum’s ethnological and historical collection. Created for the purpose of education and instruction, the Professor encouraged his students to visit too. Not everything fit the curriculum. Dr. Menzies did not have any use for the local objects, like the brick and nails from Fort Beau-Sejour or the canon balls from Louisberg and Bloody Creek. When the Professor brought his students to the Museum, he pointed out the mosaic from Pompeii, the suit of Japanese armour, and the Taoist idols. But his students showed more interest in the two Mauser rifles and the Nepalese defence knives. Some students were delighted to find a war trophy there. It was a Fokker D.VII, one of the twenty-four aeroplanes sent to Canada and then distributed to various communities in 1919. They marveled at the sight of the biplane, with its nearly 30 foot wingspan, resting in the middle of the Museum.

[excerpt from Hidden in Plane Sight: The Burning of College Hall (2024), 85]

Last year, I took on a side project—creating a spreadsheet of the items donated to the College Museum. Okay, so I’m a little behind on this project but for a good(ish) reason. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

Here’s the thing. My spreadsheet is sorted by object (or at least as best as I can describe the object without physically seeing it with my own eyes). I copy over the description of the object and the donor’s name, as supplied by the curator. I determine the location(s) of the object, for which there could be three. I add the date of donation and a citation note. Simple right?

Well, it should be simple. But when have I ever chosen the simple route? For example, donated to the College Museum on October 3rd, 1893, were

“Tourmaline in Qtz., 2 Specimens Feldspar, Annapolis Co., N.S. Fred Young, Acadia College.” (Calendar 1894/1895, 48)

That’s it. These few words are a typical description of a donation as they appear in the academic calendars between 1884 and 1914. On a spreadsheet, this translates to two entries: one for the tourmaline and another for the feldspar. The entries are linked, despite being described separately. And who is Fred Young of Acadia College?

I decided at the start of this project that the donor was just as important as the object. My world is all about context after all. So, another spreadsheet column tracks the donor’s degrees earned or connection to Acadia. In this case, a search through the Acadia Record, 1838-1953, informs me that Fred Young was from Paradise, Nova Scotia. He received a B.A. from Acadia in 1894 before graduating in 1899 from the College Physicians and Surgeons, Baltimore (53). Dr. Young practiced medicine in Clementsport and Lawrencetown.

All this context explains why Fred Young is connected to Annapolis County. It does not explain why he donated tourmaline and feldspar to the College Museum. My guess is that he was taking a geology course and the samples are somehow connected. But to find out for sure, I need to investigate the calendars for the years Fred Young attended Acadia; perhaps he is listed as taking a geology course. See how fun this is?

With my spreadsheet far from complete, I have discovered some strange objects donated to the College Museum. Perhaps you will agree. “Curious worm trails on bark”, donated by President Sawyer’s wife in 1884. (Her name was Maria nee Chase btw, even though its not provided on the Museum donation list. She was born in Wolfville.) “Skin and rattle of a rattlesnake, caught on the bank of the South Platte River, Co.”, donated by Rev. Arthur Crawley Chute in 1885. (A.C. Chute was educated at Horton, had a B.A. from Acadia in 1881, a B.D. from Morgan Park in 1884, and a D.D. from Acadia in 1901. He wrote a ton of books that we frequently use in the Archives to assist researchers. A rattlesnake skin, however, is of little use to our work.) The London Times for January 23, 1763, donated by Mr. Hayes of Wolfville in 1890. (No idea who he is or why he had a copy of this newspaper.)

Not impressed by these items? What about a box of “Diatomaceous Earth” from McIntosh Lake in Colchester County, donated by Principal A.H. McKay of Pictou in 1885? (I haven’t found his connection to Acadia.) There’s lots of random stuff on the list, from a 5.5 foot crocodile to all sorts of coins to bugs to minerals to hay forks. It is quite an assortment of curios.

And that begs the question, why were these seemingly random objects donated to the Acadia College Museum? For insight, I return to the source of information, the wealth of knowledge—the academic calendar.

In 1894/1895, the calendar provides only a single line of explanation saying, “The Museum is well furnished with collections from various parts of the work illustrative of the departments of Geology, Mineralogy and Botany.” (48) That simple statement continues to be used until 1900, when a more complete description is given annually until Carnegie Science Hall is built in 1908, and the collection is divided between there and College Hall [uh oh]. The updated description says,

The Museum contains Geological, Mineralogical, and Botanical collections from various parts of the world. Some material of Ethnological and Historical interest is also being accumulated. [I’ll say, sheesh!]

A Museum should have a curiosity shop, but should serve the purposes of Education and Instruction, in order to justify its existence. With this end in view the material is being as fully labelled as the information in regard to it will permit, and arranged in sequence so as to bring out the relations of its parts one to the other.

This arrangement can be carried out more fully in the collections of rocks and minerals, on account of the greater variety and amount of the material. This, though rather large and varied for a local museum, is still meagre in our own local and provincial rocks and minerals.

This need is being supplied as rapidly as opportunities will allow by the work of the Instructor in Geology.

His opportunities for collecting are, however, necessarily limited, and he calls on all friends of the College and of Education, who have opportunities for colleting characteristic rocks and minerals, or natural products of economic importance, from any part of the Province, to aid in making the Museum a place of scientific instruction for both students and visitors, and its contents a complete representation of the scientific and economic wealth of our Province.

If friends of Education and of the College will assist in this work the Museum may be made of great value to our own people, and of interest to the increasing numbers that yearly visit Nova Scotia for purposes of scientific investigation. (Calendar, 1900-1901, 43)

As part of this project, I am tracking the Museum Curators in an attempt to understand who is putting the object descriptions in the academic calendars. Some names are found through anecdotal evidence while others appear in the calendars or newspapers. Here’s my list so far, and it has some huge holes in it:

1846-1852, Isaac Chipman, Professor, administrator, librarian, archivist

1876-1881, G.T. Kennedy, Professor Chemistry, Geology, Mineralogy, Scientific Curator

1884-1898, Albert Edward Coldwell, Instructor Natural Sciences, librarian, curator

1912-1913, Ernest Edward Haycock, Professor Chemistry, Geology, curator

1912-1920, Horace Greely Perry, Professor Biology, Dean of Arts and Science, curator

Other professors clearly assisted with the Museum collections or were appointed the curator. My work to complete this list continues along with my spreadsheet of objects (or is that odd-jects?).

Which leads me to my final question, why have I started this project? Besides being an interesting endeavour (if not periodically frustrating), I started the spreadsheet because something odd is going on. There’s a mystery to unravel.

Back in 2024, I noticed a sense of familiarity with some of the items listed in the Museum’s collections. It was if I had seen some of them before somewhere. Of course, that was improbable. Isaac Chipman’s museum (and library) was destroyed when First College Hall burned in 1877. What’s more, the 1920 fire destroying Second College Hall was reported to have started in the Museum and all items were lost. Yet, the odd item appears once in a while, showing no signs of fire or water damage. For example, I remembered handling some confederate bills, which show up on my spreadsheet as being donated in 1884. And the Archives has preserved a document appointing the Commissioners of Dykeland in Horton in 1827, which I noted was donated in 1886 (are there two?). All curiousities.

What’s more, after I started building the spreadsheet, a “book printed in 1747” and donated by George Knowles in 1885 was found by Sarah Atkinson in Special Collections.

Some cuneiform tablets, donated by Murdock C. Smith around 1914, are not only in the Archives’ collection, they are the subject of an international study this year proving that weird stuff in the College Museum continues to fascinate us. On International Archaeology Day, which in case you didn’t know is celebrated on October 17th, these tablets and some of the other artefacts preserved in the Archives will be featured in an Open House event on campus.

What is the story of these, random objects? How did they survive the burning of College Hall? What is their custodial history? Once my spreadsheet is complete, the investigation into these questions can begin. Perhaps the truth is out there.

The Weekly Historical Event News (W.H.E.N.) is brought to you by Acadia’s Archives and Special Collections. Want to know more about this post? We would love to hear from you. Ask your question here or contact us at archives@acadiau.ca.