What Happens to the Papers of Dead Historians?
For intellectual historians, biographers and students looking for senior research projects, the archives of former historians are often indispensable troves of information. Letters between scholars often cut to the center of the most pressing arguments in the field, and notes and drafts of books aid in understanding the intellectual development of historians.
Several prominent historians have passed away in recent months. Among them, John Hope Franklin, Professor of History at Duke University, pioneer of African-American History and former president of the American Historical Association (AHA) and the Organization of American Historians (OAH); Kenneth Stampp, the prolific historian of slavery and the Civil War at the University of California, Berkeley; and David Donald, famous for his biography of Abraham Lincoln. Where can we expect the papers of these luminaries to be archived?
Most universities make an effort to archive the papers of their acclaimed faculty. Sometimes this is arranged in wills. In all likelihood, Donald's papers will be given to Houghton Library at Harvard. Stampp already has an oral history and one box of papers deposited in the Bancroft Library at Berkeley, but its unclear whether the rest of his papers will be archived. Franklin's papers will likely be kept by his home institution.
But there is no written procedure for processing these important documents. Robert Townsend, Assistant Director of Research and Publications with the AHA, wishes that there was a more standard practice. He points out that "either because it is the wish of the historian, or because the family has no idea what to do with remaining papers, it seems that most are not preserved."
This can pose problems for intellectual historians who rely on letters, notes and other documents to expose sides of historians not always apparent from their published works. David Brown, Professor of History at Elizabethtown College, says that when he is working on intellectual biographies, correspondences are important to discern the "attitudes and moods which can be conveyed in published work but are often reserved for private communications." Of any recent work, Brown's Richard Hofstadter: An Intellectual Biography, best illustrates this point. Unpublished works personalize intellectual figures, placing them within the context of their intellectual and political environments. The nature of Hofstadter's engagement with politics, and his reluctance to associate with politicians (as Arthur Schlesinger Jr. did), comes through effectively because of Brown's use of letters. In other places, the correspondence between Hofstadter and his former student Christopher Lasch reveals the tension in the transition from one generation of scholars to the next. Lasch's collection of papers, letters, and notes, given to the University of Rochester by his wife, are now the subject of many graduate and undergraduate research projects.
Brown also points out that the archiving of papers is a self-selecting process. Historians who organize their correspondences effectively and make plans for them will have them preserved. If they leave the task up to their relatives there are no guarantees. Pulitzer prize-winning historian of the American Civil War James McPherson hasn't yet given much systematic thought to where his papers will go. "I don't really know whether a library or any other archive would be interested in my papers," McPherson explains, "I guess that's why I haven't made any decisions." In fact, for an historian like McPherson, whose work has made fundamental contributions to some of the most studied parts of the American past, the question of whether or not anybody is interested isn't up in the air. Somebody will have them. It's hard to judge what will be of use to the historians of the future, so its best always to archive when possible.
McPherson points out that his paper trail has thinned since he started using e-mail. Since e-mail became the most widely used mode of communication, everyone's correspondences are now not only automatically saved but searchable. Some university archives have already started archiving e-mail correspondences. Brown saw e-mail documents among the William Leuchtenburg Papers at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill.
The question remains, is it appropriate to publicly archive e-mail history?
Historians probably wouldn't mind making their e-mails with colleagues on intellectual matters made public. But it would be a chore to separate out all the elaborate (but surely veracious) excuse e-mails from undergraduates looking for extensions on papers.
Several prominent historians have passed away in recent months. Among them, John Hope Franklin, Professor of History at Duke University, pioneer of African-American History and former president of the American Historical Association (AHA) and the Organization of American Historians (OAH); Kenneth Stampp, the prolific historian of slavery and the Civil War at the University of California, Berkeley; and David Donald, famous for his biography of Abraham Lincoln. Where can we expect the papers of these luminaries to be archived?
Most universities make an effort to archive the papers of their acclaimed faculty. Sometimes this is arranged in wills. In all likelihood, Donald's papers will be given to Houghton Library at Harvard. Stampp already has an oral history and one box of papers deposited in the Bancroft Library at Berkeley, but its unclear whether the rest of his papers will be archived. Franklin's papers will likely be kept by his home institution.
But there is no written procedure for processing these important documents. Robert Townsend, Assistant Director of Research and Publications with the AHA, wishes that there was a more standard practice. He points out that "either because it is the wish of the historian, or because the family has no idea what to do with remaining papers, it seems that most are not preserved."
This can pose problems for intellectual historians who rely on letters, notes and other documents to expose sides of historians not always apparent from their published works. David Brown, Professor of History at Elizabethtown College, says that when he is working on intellectual biographies, correspondences are important to discern the "attitudes and moods which can be conveyed in published work but are often reserved for private communications." Of any recent work, Brown's Richard Hofstadter: An Intellectual Biography, best illustrates this point. Unpublished works personalize intellectual figures, placing them within the context of their intellectual and political environments. The nature of Hofstadter's engagement with politics, and his reluctance to associate with politicians (as Arthur Schlesinger Jr. did), comes through effectively because of Brown's use of letters. In other places, the correspondence between Hofstadter and his former student Christopher Lasch reveals the tension in the transition from one generation of scholars to the next. Lasch's collection of papers, letters, and notes, given to the University of Rochester by his wife, are now the subject of many graduate and undergraduate research projects.
Brown also points out that the archiving of papers is a self-selecting process. Historians who organize their correspondences effectively and make plans for them will have them preserved. If they leave the task up to their relatives there are no guarantees. Pulitzer prize-winning historian of the American Civil War James McPherson hasn't yet given much systematic thought to where his papers will go. "I don't really know whether a library or any other archive would be interested in my papers," McPherson explains, "I guess that's why I haven't made any decisions." In fact, for an historian like McPherson, whose work has made fundamental contributions to some of the most studied parts of the American past, the question of whether or not anybody is interested isn't up in the air. Somebody will have them. It's hard to judge what will be of use to the historians of the future, so its best always to archive when possible.
McPherson points out that his paper trail has thinned since he started using e-mail. Since e-mail became the most widely used mode of communication, everyone's correspondences are now not only automatically saved but searchable. Some university archives have already started archiving e-mail correspondences. Brown saw e-mail documents among the William Leuchtenburg Papers at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill.
The question remains, is it appropriate to publicly archive e-mail history?
Historians probably wouldn't mind making their e-mails with colleagues on intellectual matters made public. But it would be a chore to separate out all the elaborate (but surely veracious) excuse e-mails from undergraduates looking for extensions on papers.