Library of Congress's Blog, page 113

Pic of the Week: Reading Without Walls

[image error]

Gene Luen Yang. Photo by Shawn Miller.

Gene Luen Yang, National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature, launched his Reading Without Walls program during a Library of Congress event on April 10. It challenges young people to explore, through books, worlds outside their comfort zone. “Reading is a fantastic way to open your minds and hearts to new people, places and ideas,” said Yang. “Through reading, I’ve met new friends, learned new facts and become a better person.”

Librarian of Congress Carla Hayden joined Yang in an informal conversation at the April 10 event, followed by a question-and-answer session with local students. Here Yang shows off his official ambassador medal to students.

What Was in Abraham Lincoln’s Pockets on April 14, 1865?

This is a guest post by Gayle Osterberg of the Library’s Office of Communications.

[image error]

Contents of President Lincoln’s pockets on the night of his assassination. Photo by Carol M. Highsmith.

When Abraham Lincoln was shot at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, D.C., on April 14, 1865, he was carrying the following:

Two pairs of spectacles and a lens polisher
Pocketknife
Watch fob
Linen handkerchief
Brown leather wallet containing a five-dollar Confederate note
Nine newspaper clippings, including several favorable to the president and his policies.

These items were given to his son, Robert Todd Lincoln, upon Lincoln’s death. Learn more about the items and see them up close in this video.

{mediaObjectId:'E70D96A4F8870174E0438C93F0280174',playerSize:'mediumStandard'}

 

Inquiring Minds: Researching Justice at the Library of Congress

[image error]

Greg Guggenmos, front right, examines papers related to Justice Hugo Black with a fellow student from Joe Kobylka’s Southern Methodist University honors seminar on the Supreme Court. Photo by Shawn Miller.

Many college students head for the beach or perhaps to a city with a lively night life for spring break. The students in Joe Kobylka’s honors seminar on the Supreme Court had a strikingly different kind of destination this year: the Library of Congress. The students traveled from Southern Methodist University in Dallas to spend the week of March 13 in the Manuscript Division examining the papers of Supreme Court justices to respond to a research question that Kobylka, a professor of political science, helped each of them develop. Here Greg Guggenmos, a sophomore majoring in statistical sciences and minoring in computer science and history, answers a few questions about his experience.

What is your research topic?

I’m doing my research on the development of the clear and present danger test from the time of Justice Holmes to the late Warren court. It is one of the main tools the justices use to protect free speech—it defines the circumstances under which limits can be placed on the First Amendment.

Whose papers did you consult for your research?

Several of the justices on the Supreme Court during those years: William Douglas, Hugo Black, Robert Jackson, Earl Warren, Felix Frankfurter and William Brennan.

What was it like to view and handle original documents?

The Library of Congress makes it easy to get up close and experience some of the most monumental moments our country has seen. From day one, we got to hold and touch the physical writing of people who had always just been names in a textbook. It was incredible to be able to step away from the sometimes-stuffy opinions of nearly 80 years ago and see firsthand how the justices interacted with one another. They joked, took offense and tossed ideas back and forth. It humanized history in a way that is challenging to explain.

Did you find material helpful to your research?

The papers are a crucial part of my research. It’s nearly impossible to see how and why the justices came to the conclusions stated in the official opinion of the court without digging through the personal letters and memos between justices. The papers available in the Library of Congress enriched my understanding of how the clear and present danger test developed and provided insight into the reasoning of the justices.

Did you encounter any documents you found surprising?

While roaming around the First Amendment cases of Justice Robert Jackson, I stumbled over an exchange of letters between Jackson and Arthur Schlesinger, who was then a Harvard history professor. The two men were discussing Jackson’s recent analysis of the tactics of the Communist Party during coups in other countries and how those same tactics were likely to be applied in the United States. Here’s the crazy thing: the ideas they were bouncing back and forth would become important parts of Schlesinger’s position on communism 20 years later when he advised John Kennedy and Richard Nixon. I’d seen those ideas, and even the same rhetoric, in speeches from the Kennedy years and beyond. History came to life before my eyes. I saw how simple letters between friends influenced American policy for decades to come.

What was your experience like generally at the Library of Congress?

Growing up, I would often escape outdoors—sometimes recruiting friends—to re-enact various battles, speeches and great moments from American history. It was these backyard escapades that kick-started my love for learning. During my week at the Library, I felt as if things came full circle. Schlesinger’s letters are just one example of many fascinating exchanges and remarkable moments of history I encountered. Letters from Roosevelt, Churchill and other world leaders passed through my hands. I came with a group of students from Southern Methodist University. Together, we uncovered top-secret documents from the FBI, conference notes from cases like Brown v. Board of Education and even a translation of a major case into Japanese! It was an amazing experience to dive into the history stored in the Library of Congress.

 

National Book Festival: 2017 Poster Depicts Delightful World of Books

(The following is a repost from the National Book Festival blog . The author is Lola Pyne of the Library’s Office of Communications.)

[image error]

2017 National Book Festival poster by Roz Chast

Spring is in the air and with it begins anticipation for our summer celebration of books and reading—the Library of Congress National Book Festival—which this year will take place on Sept. 2. Two weeks ago, the diverse author lineup for the 2017 festival was announced and today the poster is being revealed!

The poster artist is Roz Chast, a cartoonist whose work has been published in the New Yorker, Scientific American, the Harvard Business Review, Redbook and more. Chast started drawing cartoons as a child growing up in Brooklyn and went on to graduate from the Rhode Island School of Design. She has won numerous awards for her books and illustrations.

Cindy Moore, a graphics specialist at the Library of Congress, led a team of other graphics specialists at the Library in selecting Chast to design this year’s poster. However, the theme Chast came up with was all her own.

“Books have always been a major part of my life from the time I learned to read,” explains Chast. “They are a way to escape from the world, but also a way to feel more deeply connected to it. I wanted to make a poster that expressed the excitement, appreciation and delight I have for the books of my life.”

By the looks of this lively whimsical poster, she succeeded wildly!

You can download a copy of the poster from the Library of Congress National Book Festival website.

The 2017 Library of Congress National Book Festival, which is free for everyone, will be held at the Walter E. Washington Convention Center on Saturday, Sept. 2. The festival is made possible by the generosity of sponsors. You too can support the festival by making a gift now.

 

New Book: Card Catalog’s History

[image error]

Jacket design by Brooke Johnson

A new book exploring the history of the card catalog—that venerated chest of small drawers that contained the known universe—has been published by the Library of Congress in association with Chronicle Books.

The lavishly illustrated volume tells the story of libraries’ organizing approaches from the layout of papyrus scrolls at the Library of Alexandria, to playing cards with notes on the back that served librarians during the chaos of the French Revolution, to the doorstep of the digital information retrieval we use today. The card catalog evolved out of the need for a standardized system to manage rapidly expanding libraries, serving as both a repository for data and a search tool in a predigital age.

“The Card Catalog: Books, Cards, and Literary Treasures,” includes illustrations featuring the Library’s original catalog cards, many with fascinating annotations, and the covers of many familiar, beloved books in its collections. Librarian of Congress Carla Hayden contributed the foreword, declaring the card catalog “the gateway to the wonders of a library’s collection” in the 20th century.

“The Card Catalog” traces the catalog from its earliest precursors through the height of its popularity and eventual transition to online methods. The Library of Congress, after decades of reliance on a system originally devised by Thomas Jefferson for his own books, created its own card cataloging system as the 20th century began and for decades made its cards available to local public libraries nationwide. “The Card Catalog” features many of these original cards, both handwritten and typed, with notations and stamps reflecting the work of generations of librarians.

Paired with the cards are photographs of some of the great treasures in the Library’s collection, from Shakespeare’s First Folio and Walt Whitman’s corrections on a print of “O Captain! My Captain!” to first editions of “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” and “To Kill a Mockingbird.”

“The Card Catalog,” a 224-page hardcover book with more than 200 color illustrations, is available for $35 in the Library of Congress Shop, 10 First St. SE, Washington, DC, 20540-4985. Credit-card orders are taken at (888) 682-3557 or online.

Gallery Talk: The Libertine Life of Abel Buell

This is a guest post by Kimberli Curry, exhibition director in the Interpretive Programs Office.

Library of Congress specialists often give presentations about ongoing Library exhibitions. We are pleased to introduce a new blog series, “Galley Talks,” featuring content from these presentations. This first post relates to the exhibition “Mapping a New Nation: Abel Buell’s Map of the United States, 1784.”

[image error]

Abel Buell’s “New and Correct Map of the United States of North America,” 1784. On deposit to the Library of Congress from David M. Rubenstein.

In March 1784, Abel Buell (1742–1822)—a Connecticut engraver, silversmith, inventor and entrepreneur—produced his ”New and Correct Map of the United States of North America,” the first map of the newly independent United States to be compiled, printed and published in America by an American. If not for the publication of his landmark map, Abel Buell might have been forgotten despite being quite a colorful character.

In his early twenties, Buell succumbed to temptation and used his engraving skills to change 5-shilling notes to 5-pound notes. He was found guilty of counterfeiting in March 1764 and received the typical punishment of the day: his forehead was branded with the letter “C,” his ear was cropped, his property was sold to reimburse holders of his “artwork” and he was imprisoned. Buell was released from jail shortly thereafter, but he was ordered to remain within his small town.

Buell’s liberty was fully restored after he reasoned before the court that he had been hard at work developing an apparatus that could cut and polish gems and presented the prosecutor with a ring mounted with semiprecious stones. The result? He received Connecticut’s first patent for his lapidary machine.

[image error]

Buell’s petition to the Connecticut General Assembly, 1769.

Meanwhile, Buell began to experiment with fabricating printing type, a useful craft at a time when type needed to be imported and was very expensive. In 1769, Buell successfully petitioned the Connecticut General Assembly for a loan to establish the first foundry for making type in the colonies. It never came to fruition and, after failing to pay back the loan, Buell fled New Haven in 1775 to avoid imprisonment.

He continued to lead an audacious life, most likely participating in the Boston Tea Party, and he was apprehended after helping to destroy a statue of King George III, among other adventures.

Returning to New Haven, he bounced from one ambitious project to another. On March 31, 1784, Buell placed an ad in the Connecticut Journal for the sale of his most well-known endeavor, his “New and Correct Map.” Besides its somewhat hurried quality—he was most likely in a race with another mapmaker to produce the first map of the United States—what makes the map quintessentially “Buell” is his characterization of it as a work in progress to be updated over time with new information. This never happened; instead, Buell bounced to another project.

In 1785, Buell minted the first Connecticut coins—an odd turn of events for a convicted counterfeiter. For this endeavor, he patented a machine that could mint 120 coins a minute, an impressive feat at the time.

Four years later, he’s off to England—he may have departed hastily after manufacturing unauthorized New York coins, or he may have been sent as an industrial spy to learn about the British textile trade.

Upon his return, he erected one of the first cotton mills in New England; a year later, he placed an ad in a Connecticut newspaper for every good and service under the sun—except for anything related to a cotton mill. He next invented a machine for planting vegetables that enabled one man to perform the work of 20. Sadly, Buell was unable to profit financially from his many labors.

When Buell died penniless in New Haven in March 1822, his death notice read simply: “Died: At the Alms House in this town, on the 10th, Mr. Abel Buell, aged 81 years, an ingenious mechanic.”

There are only seven known copies of Buell’s map, including the one on display in the Library’s exhibition. For more on Buell and his map, visit the exhibition online and the related exhibition “Mapping a Growing Nation.”

 

Pic of the Week: Echoes of the Great War

[image error]

A member of the U.S. Army Band tours ”Echoes of the Great War.” Photo by Shawn Miller.

The Library of Congress opened a major new exhibition, “Echoes of the Great War: American Experiences of World War I,” on April 4.

The exhibition examines the upheaval of world war as Americans confronted it both at home and abroad. It considers the debates and struggles that surrounded U.S. engagement; explores U.S. military and home-front mobilization and the immensity of industrialized warfare; and touches on the war’s effects as an international peace settlement was negotiated, national borders were redrawn, and soldiers returned to reintegrate into American society.

The exhibition will be on view in the Southwest Gallery of the Library’s Thomas Jefferson Building through January 2019. To view the related online exhibition, click here.

Inquiring Minds: Delving into the Library’s Jazz Collections

[image error]

Larry Appelbaum, left, with Ingrid Monson in the Whittall Pavilion on March 1. Photo by Michael Turpin.

Ingrid Monson is the Quincy Jones Professor of African American Music at Harvard University and an award-winning author and scholar whose work in jazz, African American music and the music of the African diaspora is greatly respected. Her books include “Freedom Sounds: Civil Rights Call Out to Jazz and Africa” and “Saying Something: Jazz Improvisation and Interaction.”

Monson spent two weeks in March in residence at the Library of Congress conducting research in the Music Division’s jazz collections. She did so under the auspices of the Jazz Scholar Program, a collaborative effort of the Library and the Reva and David Logan Foundation.

On March 1, Monson sat down with Larry Appelbaum, the Music Division’s jazz specialist, in the Whittall Pavilion to discuss her research in the Max Roach Collection.

Jazz drummer and composer Roach (1924–2007) was a pioneer of the modernist style known as bebop and a highly regarded creator of innovative jazz, whose collection the Library acquired in 2013. It includes his personal papers, musical scores, audiovisual recordings and related materials.

The following is an excerpt from the interview between Appelbaum and Monson.

Monson: I was delighted to be invited to come to the Library of Congress and be here for two weeks in residence. I’ve wanted to come and work on the Max Roach Papers for quite some time, and you just made it easy. . . .

[image error]

Max Roach at the Three Deuces Club in New York in October 1947. From the William P. Gottlieb Collection.

Appelbaum: I know you wanted to look at Max Roach. Is there something in particular you are hoping to find, and what are you discovering so far?

Monson: Well, I’m very interested in this collection, partly because I wrote a great deal about Max Roach in “Freedom Sounds.” I interviewed him for it, I interviewed Abbey Lincoln [jazz vocalist, actress and wife of Roach from 1962 to 1970] and a number of related people. I went through the documents that were available to me then. But his archive was not available then. So one of the key things I want to look at is what’s in the archive that can enrich the story I’ve already told or correct the story I’ve already told.

So the first box I got out on Monday were the scores to the “Freedom Now Suite” [a 1960 album Roach co-authored with Oscar Brown, Jr., known formally as “We Insist! Freedom Now”]. The care with which these scores are put together is really interesting. Every part of the suite has a score. They’re very detailed, including drum parts . . . for “Triptych,” which is the middle movement.

And then I learned that there was originally an overture written for it that I’ve never heard—it’s there in the box—and that there were some other songs that were being considered between he and Oscar Brown. There are some scores for that material as well. Already I have an expanded sense of . . . their process of trying things out.

There’s also a lot of correspondence that relates to . . . something else that I wrote about in my book “Freedom Sounds,” which was about [jazz critic] Ira Gitler’s review of Abbey Lincoln’s “Straight Ahead” in 1961, which, just, shall we say . . .

Appelbaum: Stirred controversy.

[Lincoln wrote lyrics about race relations for several of the album’s songs, for which Gitler harshly condemned her in racial terms.]

Monson: Stirred controversy is to put it lightly. There was this huge debate about racial prejudice in jazz in early 1962 in [jazz magazine] “Down Beat.” . . . What I found in the correspondence just in the last couple of days is that at the time that Ira Gitler’s review came out, which would have been some time in November of 1961, they [Max Roach and Abbey Lincoln] contacted a lawyer. . . . So the availability of materials like this just enriches what you’re able to see and what you’re able to know about this amazing career that Max Roach had. . . .

Appelbaum: So when you initially interviewed Max about [the “Freedom Now Suite”], what was his take all these years later?

Monson: He was very proud of it. [Monson explains that Roach did not provide extensive details when she interviewed him because he was working on an autobiography at the time with poet and playwright Amiri Baraka. The autobiography was never completed.] . . . But here in the archive are the interviews that they did around 1995 and some drafts that they were working on. That’s another thing I’m taking a look at here. . . .

Appelbaum: If Max were here with us today, what would you like to ask him, these years later?

Monson: One of the things that’s overwhelmed me the last couple of days is I’ve gone through a number of his business papers. And it’s very clear to me that he was deeply involved in the running of his own affairs; [he] had very clear conceptions of his works. In the archive are these yellow notepads where he’s written these elaborate letters in longhand in pencil. Before they’re sent, he’s given them to somebody to type up, so then there’s a typed version of it, too. But he goes back and corrects things. He was right on top of the details of how he was going to be represented in pamphlets and things publicizing his appearances. [He was] very involved in fine-tuning contractual issues. And I think he worked very hard to get paid what he thought he was worth. It’s clear that he was a tough negotiator with these things.

There are also drafts in there of plays that I think he wrote or . . . multimedia kinds of projects in which he very carefully sketches out the drafts, writes a rationale for . . . what his over-arching artistic goals are. So you see an artist at work, and you realize that one thing that an artist like him does is has a vision and works extremely hard to make it happen. So there he is, the logistics of all the instruments that need to be hired, the scoring, the staging, the lighting. I would simply want to ask him more about this and how he moved from the administrative side of his career to the creative side and back. . . .

Appelbaum: We’ve been talking about Roach because that’s been your focus so far. Are there other collections you are particularly interested in, and what do you hope to find in those collections?

Monson: Well, thanks to you, you’ve been showing me these gems from all sorts of collections. I feel like I could stay here for six months. There are so many wonderful things. . . . I’m very interested in the economic picture. There’s a lot of talk about unfair record deals. . . . It’s very difficult to get hard economic information—except from musicians who kept their contracts. . . . You can find out what people got paid, what the terms of their contracts were. So you have a better idea of the economic picture for musicians at the time. I’m very excited at looking at those materials. I’m interested in copyright issues also, so I want to make a trip to the Copyright [Office].

On March 9, Monson gave a public lecture at the Library of Congress discussing her research in the Music Division’s collections.

World War I: Library Opens Major New Exhibit, ‘Echoes of the Great War’

The following is a guest post by Mark Hartsell, editor of the Library of Congress Gazette.

As a surgeon with the U.S. 6th Marines in France, Joel T. Boone saw the cost of World War I up close—comrades mutilated, amputations performed by candlelight, the frightful loss of life.

“My heart has bled by the things I have seen,” wrote Boone, who earned the Medal of Honor for heroism under fire in 1918. “Last night was a perfect inferno. We worked incessantly from 7 until that hour this morning and all day. . . . Officers with both legs gone in the prime of youth is one of the most horrible to see.”

The war was like none before it—a global conflict, waged across continents by dozens of nations, fought with revolutionary weapons, causing tens of millions of casualties.

To mark the centennial of U.S. entry into the war, the Library of Congress on April 4 opened a major new exhibition, “Echoes of the Great War: American Experiences of World War I.” “Echoes” examines the upheaval of world war as Americans like Boone lived it, in the trenches and at home.

[image error]

The American Expeditionary Forces ID card of surgeon Joel T. Boone.

“There’s not one American experience of World War I,” said Sahr Conway-Lanz, a historian in the Library’s Manuscript Division. “There are many ways in which Americans experienced the war—what it meant to them, what they went through, how deeply it touched them.”

The war reshaped American society and culture: The U.S. conscripted a national army for the first time; women entered the workforce en masse; African-Americans challenged racial inequality; new technology came into widespread use; American soldiers helped spread jazz around the world.

The Library holds the most comprehensive collection of materials on U.S. involvement in the war. Over the course of its run, “Echoes” will feature more than 600 collection items: music, diaries, correspondence, recorded sound, posters, photos, medals, scrapbooks and maps.

The Library also digitized nearly 26,000 feet of rare film for the exhibition—President Woodrow Wilson picks numbers for conscription, an animation pioneer depicts the sinking of the Lusitania.

“Nitrate stock is very fragile in addition to being volatile; thus, much of this footage has not been seen since the war itself,” said Cheryl Regan, a senior exhibition director in the Interpretive Programs Office. “These silent clips document the American experience in the First World War, on the home front and the front lines.”

Stories from Over There

The exhibition presents documents of great figures—President Wilson’s first draft of the League of Nations covenant, the diaries of American Expeditionary Forces commander Gen. John J. Pershing—and of ordinary men and women, over there and at home.

“One of the great things about this exhibit is that virtually every item tells a story of some kind,” Conway-Lanz said. “It really is amazing what the collections of the Library allow folks to learn about the war.”

The war inflicted more than 38 million military and civilian casualties—about 320,000 of them American. Theodore Roosevelt’s son, Quentin, was one.

[image error]

Soldiers gather by the grave of Lt. Quentin Roosevelt, killed in aerial combat in 1918.

All four of Roosevelt’s sons served in the war (and three would serve again in World War II). Quentin, the youngest, joined the Army Air Service as a pilot and was shot down over France in July 1918—whether killed or captured, Roosevelt didn’t know.

Roosevelt soon received a letter—part of the exhibition—from English author Rudyard Kipling, expressing hope that Quentin was safe. Kipling understood how Roosevelt might feel: His own son was killed in action in 1915.

“The boy has done his work honourably and cleanly and you have your right to pride and thankfulness. . . . No words are any use but we all send you our love and deep sympathy,” Kipling wrote.

Quentin, however, wasn’t safe: He’d been killed in a dogfight, and the Germans buried him where he fell.

Across Racial Lines

Charles Hamilton Houston attended training camp for African-American officers, went to artillery school and shipped out to France. Houston recorded his experiences in a diary—the racial hostility he encountered in the military, the freedom of his postwar service in Paris.

[image error]

Charles Hamilton Houston (second row, fifth from right) poses with African-American officers at a training camp in Iowa.

“Had a good time dancing,” Houston wrote. “French girls anxious to learn our dance; told me that all Paris is taken away with ‘jazz-band’ and our style of dancing. The girls came after the boys in taxis and beg them to go to the dance. Colored boys are all the go.”

Inspired by his military experiences, Houston attended law school, served as dean of Howard University law school, trained a cadre of civil-rights lawyers (including Thurgood Marshall), and, as the NAACP’s litigation director, argued cases before the U.S. Supreme Court— work that eventually earned him the nickname “The Man Who Killed Jim Crow.”

“He died in 1950, so he never gets to see the culmination of his efforts,” said Ryan Reft, a historian in the Manuscript Division. “But he lays this groundwork, and World War I is kind of the crucible through which he passes to come to this civil-rights awakening.”

Peace for Patton

George S. Patton earned a reputation as a brilliant commander in the Second World War—one of military history’s most complex and compelling figures.

His first battle experience, however, came in the Great War. Patton led U.S. tanks into battle at St. Mihiel, but a serious wound cut his campaign short on the first day of the war-ending Meuse-Argonne offensive.

[image error]

“Peace” by George Patton.

[image error]The Library holds the Patton papers—including his voluminous war poetry. Patton, fueled by ambition and a sense of his own as yet unfulfilled destiny, wasn’t thrilled when peace finally came.

On the day the armistice was signed, Patton wrote a poem called “Peace,” lamenting the end of hostilities: “I stood in the flag decked cheering crowd / Where all but I were gay / And gazing on their extecy / My heart shrank in dismay.”

 

Most, however, were glad the “war to end all wars” was over and to return home, to a world that never would be the same.

“The war,” Reft said, “reshaped the world politically, economically and geographically, while setting into motion processes domestically that, for good and for ill, culminated over the next three decades—particularly with America’s participation in World War II.”

The exhibition, located in the Jefferson Building’s Southwest Gallery, closes in January 2019.

World War I: A New World Order – Woodrow Wilson’s First Draft of the League of Nations Covenant

(The following was written by Sahr Conway-Lanz, historian in the Library’s Manuscript Division.)

Woodrow Wilson. Between 1900 and 1920. Prints and Photographs Division.

Like many individuals around the globe, Woodrow Wilson was shocked by the outbreak of a devastating world war among European empires in 1914. As President of the United States, however, he had a unique opportunity to shape the outcome of this catastrophic conflict. He was a leading advocate for a new approach to international relations and the problem of war in which the first global political organization, the League of Nations, was to be the key mechanism for ensuring a peaceful and orderly world. Among the papers of Woodrow Wilson maintained by the Library of Congress’ Manuscript Division, one can find Wilson’s first draft of the covenant of the League of Nations, the founding document of the international organization that tried but failed to tame interstate warfare.

President Wilson viewed World War I as the folly of an old style of failed diplomacy. This timeworn diplomacy had sought to balance the power of the great European states and alliances against each other while they competed for selfish imperial interests. Unable to avoid American entry into the war in April 1917, Wilson committed himself to creating a new international order with a League of Nations at its center that would peacefully manage conflicts between states, great and small and put an end to senseless warfare. The League of Nations was not his vision alone – ideas about a society or league of nations to facilitate or even enforce the peace had been discussed among Americans, Europeans and others. Nevertheless, Wilson became a driving force to establish the league as the guarantor of the post-war peace.

President Woodrow Wilson’s first written draft of the League of Nations covenant, the founding document of the new and ill-fated international organization created by the peace settlement at the conclusion of World War I. Manuscript Division.

Written in the summer of 1918, this first attempt by Wilson to define the league laid out his thinking on the new world order he sought to foster. The covenant draft set as the league’s goals to ensure the political independence and territorial integrity of member states, reduce armaments and resolve interstate disputes through arbitration and mediation. To enforce these goals, the document stipulated collection action by member states to blockade, impose trade boycotts and use military means to punish transgressors. Wilson based his version on an earlier draft by his close foreign policy advisor Edward House and marked with an “H” sections of the document from House. Corrections to Wilson’s typed draft in his own hand reveal aspects of the president’s thought process as he labored on this far-reaching project.

The League of Nations is today commonly viewed as a failure. The United States never even became a member of the organization that President Wilson had worked so hard to create. The Library’s Nation’s Forum collection of recordings features a selection of audio clips from American leaders both for and against the League of Nations. In addition, the Library’s historical newspaper collections document the evolution of the covenant.

However, the league was the first international organization that was global in scope, representing an extraordinarily hopeful vision of a peaceful global community, and was an important predecessor to the United Nations and current internationally shared ideas of collective security and limits on war.

The Woodrow Wilson papers at the Library of Congress are the most extensive and significant collection of Wilson documentation found anywhere and include his White House files as well as personal and professional materials from the rest of his life.

World War I Centennial, 2017-2018: With the most comprehensive collection of multi-format World War I holdings in the nation, the Library of Congress is a unique resource for primary source materials, education plans, public programs and on-site visitor experiences about The Great War including exhibits, symposia and book talks.