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Rare Poem of 1718 by Unknown Author Describes Revels of Old-Time Seniors at Commencement

Authorities Fail to Restrain Visitors--Pie, Plum-Cake, Punch Denied Students

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

Commencement Day is still a gala occasion to a number of cap-and-gowned young men and their relatives and admirers, who are the actors in the colorful drama enacted under the Japanese lanterns in the dim aisles of the Yard. But two hundred years ago, Commencement Day was the occasion of a general jollification among the populace of Massachusetts as a whole. Drawn not by the main, or academic tent, whose attractions at this time consisted chiefly of orations in Latin, Hebrew, and Greek, but by the side-shows clustering around the big top, the countryfolk and townspeople flocked to Cambridge, and choked the quiet precincts of the town and college until, we are reminded, the place was nothing less than Revere Beach in eighteenth century miniature.

Not a Pretty Picture

There is in existence an extremely rare poem written in 1718 by persons unknown, the flamboyant title of this opus is "A Satyrical Description of Commencement: Calculated to the meridian of Cambridge in New England." The picture that it gives is neither wholesome nor pretty, and it is to be hoped, that since it is termed "satyrical", it is not too faithful to fact.

It is a fact that in the early years of the eighteenth century the crowds attending Commencement became noisier and more disorderly. The riff-raff of the town, attracted by the crowd and showiness, attended in force. In the third decade of the century, the University made endeavors to keep secret the date of Commencement, with a view toward eliminating the unpleasant congestion. It is doubtful if this measure was successful. One might as well try to hide the date of the Yale football game in this day and age.

If the University could take no sweeping action against the townspeople, it severely curbed the carnival aspirations of the students themselves, who probably contributed in no small measure to the cup of revelry. In 1722 there was a law prohibiting the students from preparing or providing either plum cake, or roasted, baked, or boiled meats, or pies of any kind, and from furnishing distilled liquors or any Composition made therewith upon pain of being fined 20 shillings, and the forfeiture of the provisions and liquors, to be seized by the tutors." Evidently distilled liquors, or any Composition made therewith, were not considered as noxious in the possession of the tutors as in that of the undergraduates. And one cannot help wondering what are the wiles of "plumb cake" or meats or pies. Apparently this law like many little annoying things, carried its sting in its tail.

The guests of the students must have complained of the mildness of the entertainment provided, for a few years later came a repeal of the law against punch-drinking: "It shall be no offense if the scholars, in a sober manner, entertain one another and strangers with punch, which, as it is now usually made, is no intoxicating liquor." On what grounds did the authorities make this last calm statement?

Female Vanity Observed

There were other Commencement vanities savoring less of the flesh and the devil. On the great day the ladies of the Colony turned out in full regalla, calculated to shame the lilies of the field. There is a famous story of an elderly dame who sat up all night before the 1758 Commencement to save her hair, done up the previous evening by the coiffeuse, who had no other tine for that particular lady. Another writer on Commencement--one bitter toward the fop-pishdress--declares that a roomy family coach could carry but two ladies, one sitting forward and one backward, with their hoops protruding on either side.

But these, after all, were petty devil-trios, and for a first-hard account of the celebration, one is referred to the Satyrical Description, found in "The Magazine of History, with Notes and Queries," reprinted at Tarrytown, New York, in 1920.

The Introduction

In the hot sultry month that's called July (Forever famous to Posterity)

A Day is yearly kept, no doubt with Zeal

By some, who to New England's common Weal

Wish well, in these apostatizing days

Wherein Religion sensibly decays.

No Doubt for noble Ends this Day's observ'd

By some who have to Learning just Regard,

Whose souls (bright as the Light) would grieve to see

These Regions buried in Obscurity.

The Description

But-let's reflect upon the Things that be

Transacted on this Day; but where shall we

Begin? for early, long before the Sun's

Bright beams illuminate the Horizon

Vast numbers from far distant Places are

Seen to 'ards the Place of Concourse to repair.

(As if by some magnetic Virtue they, Are drawn, they all direct their Course one way.)

All sizes and each sex the Ways do throng,

Both Black and White ride jig-by-jole along!

Others on foot (half-melted by the Sun)

Can scarce arrive before the Day is done;

Or if the Clouds propitious Showers dispense,

(As oft they do when our learn'd Youths commence)

See! how the dripping Throngs trip o'er the Plains,

The Nut-brown Country Nymphs and rural Swains

From diff'rent roads the diff'rent Squadrons join,

To form the gen'ral Congress all combine.

Tag, Rag, and Bob-tall, in their best Array,

Appear there on this celebrated Day.

Thus to near Night they flock; and in a Word,

The Town's a cage filled with each kind of Bird.

But who is fully able to display

The various kinds of things that on this day

Transacted are? To Taverns some repair,

And who can tell what pranks are acted there?

Some spend their time at Pins (that tiresome Play)

Others at Cards (more silent) pass the Day.

In Rings some wrestle till they're mad outright,

And then with their Antagonists they fight.

For Fighting is the effect of Wrestling

Men draw Conclusions from the Premises.

All kinds of horrid Noises fill the Street,

While distant Woods their echoes back repeat.

On Horses some to ride full tilt along

Are seen; while on each side a numerous Throng

Do gave la silent shades some pass away

Pleasures end the Day;

But Heads and Points at Night are forc'd to lay.

Vast numbers on the Pagan Party gaze

(This line illegible)

While some intoxicated are with Wine,

Others (as brutish) propagate their Kind;

Where amorous Lads to shady Groves resort,

And under Venus with their misses sport.

Some sing, some dance, some lay the Ground upon,

Whatever fails, the Iron-Work goes on.

Our Rustick Sparks (to Taverns glew'd) they stay,

And scarce can blunder home by break of Day.

Some lie in open fields: others there are

Who to their Homes half boozy do repair.

Others go home half-starv'd; Some in the way

Get Foul'd, and then in Barns are forc'd to lay.

So end the actions of this famous Day,

But not the Revel.... .....Each successive Day,

Venus and Bacchus hold alternate sway.

The raging Tribe their lawless Games repeat,

Nor can three Days their Bacchanals compleat.

To close recess the Sons of Vice retire,

And cool their raging Thirst, or quench their wanton Fire.

Thus the loose Croud forbidden Pleasures seek.

Drink HARVARD dry, and so conclude the Week.

FINIS

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