Acquaintance with the best was the design, and the old composers were gone over till some familiarity with them was common in case of the audience. Pretty dry and dull the pianola and Victor lovers would think those evenings in these days, but all the musical machine devices have "come in" since that time. What if the President did occasionally go to sleep while we were performing, we had no pride in popular music to keep him awake. One evening Professor Robert announced that he would undertake to read at sight a little known sonata of Beethoven—a composition by its length and absence of strong "color" not usually played. It seemed endless to us music people, I remember, monotonous and wearisome. Dr. Raymond peacefully slept through the three quarters of an hour to our envy and approval. By and by Professor Robert finished and came out as the lights were revived to know what the chief thought. "Did you get into it at all, Mr. President?" he enquired eagerly. Dr. Raymond glanced a little ruefully at us, his companions in distress, then answered in his droll way, "Yes, I got into it all right—submerged, in fact." The appreciative laughter that followed, I fear Professor Robert never understood as we did.
In Mr. Vassar's lifetime his birthday was observed on the day of the week it fell, the inaugural celebration being on Monday, April 29, 1866. It was put on the Friday nearest the 29th in 1873. The invitations were sent out in the name of the students and the hour was five o'clock. The Vassariana of June that year, the first number of the first paper issued, gives account of the "celebration," as it was called then. The first eventful "Founder's" has passed into history, but it may not be familiar to you of to-day so the account will bear repeating. A triumphal arch of evergreens spanned the avenue at the lodge, and upon it were the words "Welcome to the Founder." At the left of this was the date of his birth, April 29, 1791; at the right, April 29, 1866. The monogram V. C. was in the center, and over all, bright flags and banners. The entrance to the college was also decorated with flags and garlands of evergreen, and the chapel trimmed with wreaths of evergreen and bright flowers.
At six the students under direction of the Marshal and two aids marched on either side of the avenue to the lodge, forming a continuous line to the circle in front of the entrance. When the Founder's carriage appeared with him and President Raymond, it was greeted with wavings of handkerchiefs,—the college yell (shade of Miss Lyman!) being still unevolved. The lines turned instantly, marching back by the side of the carriage to the entrance where, in the vestibule, the Faculty and teachers were awaiting the procession. As the Founder went up the steps, the select band of singers stationed on the open porch sang the original song of welcome. Next, the officer of the day, Abby F. Goodsell of '69, was presented and escorted him to the chapel where the audience was waiting. As the Founder and escorts appeared at the chapel door, the organ, played by Professor Wiebe, began a triumphant peal, the audience rising and remaining standing till the party was seated. No one sat on the platform, but went up as occasion required. Prayer was offered by Dr. Raymond, then came piano music—a selection from "Der Freischütz"—by one of the solo performers of that time. A salutatory, or address of welcome as we say now, followed, after which came an original essay by one of the seniors which was followed by a song. This was preliminary to the principal part of the programme,—a series of recitations representing woman's social position in all ages, Swedish, Greek, Roman, Mediaeval, written or translated and adapted by those taking part, a modern selection from the "Princess" closing the recital. A brilliant musical duet for piano made way for a long original poem,—"A hilltop idyl," with local hits and description of the Faculty much appreciated. The closing lines were given with great effect,—
"And Vassar College stand through time
An honor to the Nation."
You smile? How I wish I could put before you the earnest spirit of that time, each one wide awake to the recognition of a great privilege, and trying with might and main to express it!
However, this was not all in honor of the day. There was a floral tribute,—Flora, her attendants and chief representative student—an original drama—very pretty and pleasing, and, I may add, proper. A hymn for the occasion,—"Our father and our friend," closed the students' programme. Old Hundred and the Doxology sung by every one present ended the chapel ceremonies, a collation in the dining-room followed and a reception in the college parlors finished the day.
The second anniversary in '67 was as elaborate in original material of song, address, poem and essay as the previous one, and was further distinguished by the unveiling of the marble bust of Mr. Vassar—the bust we see to-day in the college parlor. A drama was written by one of '68, with Muse of the Past, Genius of Progress and her attendants, Science, Art, Religion and Music. As the Genius of Progress alluded to Vassar College and spoke of the Founder she exclaimed, "Behold his features!" the signal for the curtain at the rear of the stage to be parted, revealing the bust against a background of evergreens. In '68, the last time Mr. Vassar was present, the chief event was an original cantata with music by Professor Ritter, entitled "The Crown of Life," proving later of especially beautiful significance.
The following year it was purely a memorial service, the invitations given out for this from three till seven. There was no reception, simply tea served in the dining-room after the exercises. It was a most beautiful and appropriate service with Larghetto from Beethoven's Second Symphony, played on the organ by Miss Finch; eulogy by Miss Mary W. Whitney, class of '68; the Second Movement of Schumann's Symphony in B flat arranged for four pianos; a memorial hymn written by one of the seniors, the music by Professor Ritter. So from the first to the last, it was the students' tribute to Mr. Vassar and their loving honors.
In 1870 the exercises were changed to the evening with George William Curtis as speaker, having also an original recitative and chorus with music by Professor Ritter, ending as usual with a collation and promenade concert. The programmes henceforth were far less elaborate, confined chiefly to some speaker of distinction, his theme being eulogistic of the man Vassar and what his gift had done for the education of women. This changed gradually to topics of general educational interest or to some question of public affairs. A debate was sometimes introduced, a Shakespeare reading, or an address by an alumna student. (Robert Collyer was the speaker in '72, Phillips Brooks in '73, Edward Everett Hale in '74, Colonel Higginson in '75.) Prayer was dropped from the programme in '74. No dancing appeared on the programme until 1878, and then four numbers only—lanciers alternating with quadrille. In 1895, the change was made to permit two affairs, literary exercises in the afternoon with the distinction they deserve, the evening given up to a reception with dancing.