paid as wages by the College but was added to each student’s term-bill as an extra. It seemingly follows that the poorer scholars had no sweeper at all—and were probably quite as well off.
Bed-making and sweeping were the only “paid jobs.” The minor tasks of the modern janitor, and the laborious hewing of wood and drawing of water, now superseded by modern conveniences, fell upon the freshmen. By the ancient (and highly economical) custom of “fagging,” the unfortunate neophytes were called upon for every variety of menial toil, from cutting the President’s hay to beating the one carpet the College possessed, a treasured ornament of the library-chamber.[1] Especially were they compelled to minister to the numerous wants of the upper-classmen. An elaborate code, almost Draconian in its severity, was gradually evolved for their guidance, in successive revisions of the “College Customs,” which were read in chapel at the beginning of every year. Errands were to be run, boots cleaned, fires tended, and even footballs and other sporting goods provided, at the beck and call of their overlords.[2] With
- ↑ “The floor of the library is covered with a rich carpet…for which…we are indebted to the munificence of His Excellency Governor Hancock,” (Description of Harvard Hall, in Massachusetts Magazine, ii, 323.) A wealthy freshman from the West Indies, in 1790, refusing his bounden duty and service, declined to give the annual “shaking” to this precious object, and was incontinently expelled from college. (Harv. Magazine, x, 122.)
- ↑ Up to 1861 the freshmen, by subscription, actually continued the “custom” of “furnishing bats, balls, and footballs” for the rest of the college. Ibid.
