The book I've been working on for some years now -- University, Court, and Slave -- is about jurisprudence in the old South. Some of my key sources are writings by faculty and to a lesser extent students at southern colleges before the war. In this way I follow a few other people who of late have made pretty extensive use of academics' writings, notably Peter Carmichael's The Last Generation. One of the things I'm particularly interested in are student debates at their literary societies. I think there are some great things to be done with those debates, such as using them collectively as a gauge of what's on students' minds. We can also use them to assess the range and proportion of constitutional ideas in discussion in public. If I can set some time aside this summer I'll write a little bit about my preliminary work in these sources at Washington College, UNC, and Davidson -- all rather unrepresentative of the south, but that's a separate story.
So this leads to a question of just how much thinking actually took place in college? For another project -- the study of probate in Rockbridge County, Virginia -- I've been reading Washington College alumnus William Alexander Carruthers' The Kentuckian in New York -- a very mildly anti-slavery novel published in 1834. I was amused to see an extensive discussion of college life in the south around the 1820s. Do you care to speculate on how much of it related to the ideas students were learning and how much to their antics?
Of course you do. And if -- as I suspect you did -- you guessed "not much of the former and a lot of the latter," you're close to correct. In fact, there was no discussion of ideas (though there is a reference to a speech given by a budding politician)! Here's an excerpt from The Kentuckian in New York:
How happy a life is that of a girl at a boarding-school, exempt from all the pains and penalties of collegians—the hair-breadth 'scapes'—the formal trials for riding other people's horses,—ringing church bells,—building fences across the road,—hanging cake and beer signs at magistrates' and elders' doors,— burnings in effigy, fights at country weddings and dances,— exploring expeditions in the mountains and caverns, professedly for geological, but really for depredating purposes,—shooting house-dogs,—expeditions upon the water, and skating upon the ice,—swimming, duelling, fighting, biting, scratching,—firing crackers and cannons in college entries,—heavy meat suppers, with oceans of strong waters,—and then headache, thirst, soda and congress-water in the morning, and perhaps a visit from the doctor or the president,—presentments by the grand jury for playing at cards and overturning apple-carts,— personating ghosts with winding-sheets, and getting knocked, on the head for their pains,— serenading sweethearts, and taking linchpins out of wagons, — making sober people drunk and drunken people sober,— battling with watchmen, constables, and sheriffs,— running away from the tailors and tavernkeepers,— kissing country girls, and battling with their beaux,— tricks upon the tutors, and shaving the tails of the president's horses,—stealing away the lion or the elephant at an animal show, and pelting strolling players,—putting hencoops upon churches, painting out signs, and carrying off platforms,—throwing hot rolls under the table, and biscuit at the steward's head,— playing musical seals at prayers, and saying prayers at rows,— gambling in study hours, and filching at recitation,—having one face for the president and another for the fellows,—and, finally, being sent home with a letter to your father, informing him that you are corrupting the morals of your teachers in these pranks. These are a few of the classical studies into which the dear little innocents are never initiated, while they form no small part of collegiate education in America, as we can testify from experience.
"Many a fine fellow makes the first trial of a stump speech, with an extract from an Irish sermon at a drunken row; his head perhaps stuck three feet through the window of the little bar in a tavern, and his audience sitting round on the beertables, armed with sticks, stones, and staves. One, who with drunken gravity keeps his head and stick moving all the while, says, that he concurs fully in opinion with the speaker; though, if asked what the subject is, he swears it is the Greek question. The question and the laugh go round. One avers stoutly that it is Catholic emancipation; a third vociferates that it is a complete justification of Brutus for killing Caesar; a fourth thinks it a part of the recitation of the day, while the most drunken man of the company jumps down from his seat on the table, and swears that he can see through the fellow clearly, 'it's nothing but sleight of hand;' with which he exclaims, as he rubs his eyes and looks round,' Bless my soul, boys, how drunk you all are; come, I'll help you to your room before matters get worse,' leading off the soberest man in the room. The party then breaks up in a regular row; I think I see the old fellows now, marching off two and two with the true would-be sober and drunken gravity, every man thinking that he is completely cheating his neighbour, by his picked steps and exactly poised head and shoulders, like a drunken soldier on drill. One gets into a carriage rut; another climbs into a pig-sty, and thinks he is getting over the college fence. A third falls over a cow, while a fourth takes off his hat to a blind horse, mistaking him in the dark for the president. At length they are lodged in bed, with boots, hats, and clubs, like soldiers expecting a surprise. Some murder a song or two in a drunken twang, while the rest snore in chorus.
"But next comes the awful reward of transgression in the morning; dry throats, aching limbs, torn coats, sick stomachs, haggard countenances, swelled heads. The trembling and moody toilet is made; the bell rings for prayers; and a more repentant set of sinners never assembled under its sound. All wonder what has become of the joyous feelings of the previous night, and think with shame of such actions and speeches as they can recollect. Hereupon follows a gloomy and melancholy day. They are home-sick. Relations, friends, and the scenes of childhood, with all their quiet, innocent, and heartfelt pleasures, glide before the imagination. The head becomes dizzy; the heart palpitates; the hands tremble, and the sight grows double. Then comes the fear of illness, and death in a strange land. Associates of the 'row' are avoided; several chapters in the Bible are read; repentance is promised; sleep settles the nervous system; and next morning they arise gay and happy. This continues until the scene is repeated, and so on, until one half forswear brandy and the other half become confirmed sots.
Ok, then, back to thinking about the uses of legal technology to maintain wealth in families. The image is of Washington and Lee (formerly Washington College).
Comments