There is no record of the profit Master Bland received from his schooling abroad, but it is to be feared that he shared the character of his young fellow-countrymen, of whom Jones reports that “they are noted to be more apt to spoil their school-fellows than improve themselves.” The wildness of the young colonial students this reverend apologist accounts for very ingeniously, by explaining that the trouble lies in their being “put to learn to persons that know little of their temper, who keep them drudging in pedantick methods, too tedious for their volatile genius.”
The young Colonial Cavaliers exercised their volatile genius at home as well as abroad, as any one may know who turns the yellow pages of the manuscript college records at William and Mary. Under Stith’s presidency we find “Ye following orders unanimously agreed to”:
“1. Ordered yt no scholar belonging to any school in the college, of what age, rank or quality so ever, do keep any race horse at ye college in ye town, or anywhere in the neighborhood, yt they be not anyway concerned in making races or in backing or abetting those made by others, and yt all race-horses kept in ye neighborhood of ye college and belonging to any of ye scholars, be immediately dispatched and sent off and never again brought back, and all this under pain of ye severest animadversion and punishment.”
A second ordinance forbids any scholar belonging to the college, “to appear playing or betting at ye billiard or other gaming tables, or to be any way concerned in keeping or fighting cocks, under pain of ye like severe animadversions or punishments.”
They were an unruly and turbulent set of school-boys, these collegians, and the college records are full of their misdoings. Thomas Byrd, being brought before the Faculty on a charge of breaking windows “in a rude and riotous mannor,” was sentenced to submit to a whipping in the Grammar-School, or be expelled the college. The blood of the Byrds rebelled against such ignominy, and the boy refused to submit. His father then appeared before the Faculty and offered to compel him to obey, but this vicarious submission was considered inadequate, and he was dropped from the college. Again, it appears, that “whereas John Hyde Saunders has lately behaved himself in a very impudent and unheard-of mannor to the master of the Grammar-School,” he is directed to quit the college. The ushers are ordered to visit the rooms of the young gentlemen at least three times a week, after nine o’clock at night, and report to the president any irregularities.
“No boy to presume to go into the kitchen.” “No victuals sent to private rooms.” “No boy to lounge upon the college steps.” So run the rules. They further provide “yt a person be appointed to hear such boys as shall be recommended by their parents or guardians, a chapter in the Bible every school-day at 12 o’clock, and yt he have ye yearly salary of one pistole for each boy so recommended.” All these regulations, “animadversions,” and punishments make us realize that in spite of its high-sounding charter, William and Mary was, after all, only a big boarding-school.
When its charter was granted, a curious condition was attached, providing that the president and professors should yearly offer two copies of Latin verses to the Governor or Lieutenant-Governor of Virginia. The bargain seems to have been strictly kept, for The Gazette records:
“On this day sen-night, the president, masters and scholars of William and Mary College went, according to their annual custom, in a body to the Governor’s, to present His Honor with two copies of Latin verses in obedience to their charter, as a grateful acknowledgement for two valuable tracts of land given the said college by their late Majesties, King William and Queen Mary. Mr President delivered the verses to His Honor and two of the young gentlemen spoke them.”
In 1700, the college authorities ushered in the century with a grand celebration, including prize declamations and various exercises. The novel and exciting entertainment roused such an interest that visitors came from Annapolis and the Maryland shore, and even from the far-away colony of New York, while Indians thronged the streets to watch the gayety. The town then was at the height of its prosperity.
Not content with a palace, a capitol, and a college, Williamsburg actually aspired to own a bookstore, which was after all not altogether unreasonable, since there was no considerable one south of Boston. Accordingly the college authorities met to consider the matter, and finally resolved that—