Dartmouth's motto, Vox Clamantis in Deserto, translates to "the voice of one crying out in the wilderness." With more than 1,700 trees and a main street that's part of the Appalachian Trail, the motto seems indisputable. But is it strictly accurate?

While we're all aware that Dartmouth is about as far from civilization as possible, if you adhere to a strict definition of "wilderness" (an environment entirely free from human influence), the answer is no. The College has grown quite a bit in the 249 years since the motto was assigned, and a whole community has sprung up around it. In fact,
Dartmouth's surroundings weren't truly "wilderness" even in 1769. Though the woods around us feel pristine, they actually have a long history of human habitation and manipulation.

In pre-colonial times, Native Americans intentionally set forest fires to manage the ecosystem (a technique still practiced in some areas and advocated by many experts). The regular burning was thought to create an environment where food-providing species were more plentiful and the woods that contain them easier to navigate. If there had been DOC trips in 1769, Dartmouth's first freshmen would have found chestnuts and wild blueberries to accompany their chunks of cheddar cheese, and would have moved through a forest with less opportunity for injury (taller, more widely spaced trees).

Colonists altered the forest ecosystem significantly, cutting down trees to make room for European-style agriculture. The brunt of this deforestation began around the time Eleazar Wheelock arrived in New Hampshire, as part of a rush to settle land acquired from Britain's 1763 victory in the French and Indian War. The settlers cleared land in the name of subsistence, setting up diversified farms to grow their own food.

The scale and intensity of New England agriculture increased dramatically as settlers turned to commercial wool production during the early 1800s. After tariffs were imposed on British wool imports following the War of 1812, New England's farmers were met with the task of filling the demand. The regional sheep population rose exponentially, and by 1840, 2.3 million sheep inhabited Vermont and New Hampshire. In most towns, there were more livestock than people. These overwhelming numbers of sheep kept the land almost entirely clear - by 1840, three quarters of the region was open for agriculture. But human and sheep populations were so high that farm productivity declined. The erosion from deforestation and overgrazing is still visible today. There were so few trees that wood actually became scarce, prompting farmers to build their fences out of rocks.

These stone fences remain to this day, reminders of a once overwhelming human presence here. Though they've been built over in downtown Hanover, they remain intact just outside of the main residential area - in the Mink Brook Nature Preserve (just past CVS) and in the woods across the street from the Organic Farm.

Now, they're more often found separating trees instead of farms. Many have fallen into disrepair and are so haphazard you might not notice them. Facing decreased economic returns, 19th century farmers abandoned ship and moved West, where there was more space, flatter land, and more fertile soil. Over the past 150 years, the general trend of farm abandonment and reforestation has continued. In this landscape's most recent history, trees have replaced people as the colonizers - the land-use ratio of the 1840s has been reversed and about three quarters of the land is now forested. It feels like wilderness again, as we all can attest. But it's just a feeling: the land around Dartmouth has hosted people and our associates (like sheep!) for hundreds of years.