"Then comes Commencement Day, and Discord dire
Strikes her confusion-string, and dust and noise
Climb up the skies; ladies in thin attire,
For 't is in August, and both men and boys,
Are all abroad, in sunshine and in glee
Making all heaven rattle with their revelry!
"Ah! what a classic sight it is to see
The black gowns flaunting in the sultry air,
Boys big with literary sympathy,
And all the glories of this great affair!
More classic sounds!—within, the plaudit shout,
While Punchinello's rabble echoes it without."
To this the author appends a note, as follows:—
"The holiday extends to thousands of those who have no particular classical pretensions, further than can be recognized in a certain penchant for such jubilees, contracted by attending them for years as hangers-on. On this devoted day these noisy do-nothings collect with mummers, monkeys, bears, and rope-dancers, and hold their revels just beneath the windows of the tabernacle where the literary triumph is enacting.
'Tum sæva sonare
Verbera, tum stridor ferri tractæque catenæ.'"
A writer in Buckingham's New England Magazine, Vol. III., 1832, in an article entitled "Harvard College Forty Years ago," thus describes the customs which then prevailed:—
"As I entered Cambridge, what were my 'first impressions'? The College buildings 'heaving in sight and looming up,' as the sailors say. Pyramids of Egypt! can ye surpass these enormous piles? The Common covered with tents and wigwams, and people of all sorts, colors, conditions, nations, and tongues. A country muster or ordination dwindles into nothing in comparison. It was a second edition of Babel. The Governor's life-guard, in splendid uniform, prancing to and fro, 'Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum.' Horny-hoofed, galloping quadrupeds make all the common to tremble.
"I soon steered for the meeting-house, and obtained a seat, or rather standing, in the gallery, determined to be an eyewitness of all the sport of the day. Presently music was heard approaching, such as I had never heard before. It must be 'the music of the spheres.' Anon, three enormous white wigs, supported by three stately, venerable men, yclad in black, flowing robes, were located in the pulpit. A platform of wigs was formed in the body pews, on which one might apparently walk as securely as on the stage. The candidates for degrees seemed to have made a mistake in dressing themselves in black togas instead of white ones, pro more Romanorum. The musicians jammed into their pew in the gallery, very near to me, with enormous fiddles and fifes and ramshorns. Terribile visu! They sounded. I stopped my ears, and with open mouth and staring eyes stood aghast with wonderment. The music ceased. The performances commenced. English, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French! These scholars knew everything."
More particular is the account of the observances, at this period, of the day, at Harvard College, as given by Professor Sidney Willard:—
"Commencement Day, in the year 1798, was a day bereft, in some respects, of its wonted cheerfulness. Instead of the serene summer's dawn, and the clear rising of the sun, 'The dawn was overcast, the morning lowered, And heavily in clouds brought on the day.' In the evening, from the time that the public exercises closed until twilight, the rain descended in torrents. The President[09] lay prostrate on his bed from the effects of a violent disease, from which it was feared he could not recover.[10] His house, which on all occasions was the abode of hospitality, and on Commencement Day especially so, (being the great College anniversary,) was now a house of stillness, anxiety, and watching. For seventeen successive years it had been thronged on this anniversary from morn till night, by welcome visitors, cheerfully greeted and cared for, and now it was like a house of mourning for the dead.