"On New-Years eve, the year was [seven-teen] eighty-nine, All clad in black, a Dartmouth college crew with crow-bar, sledge, and pick ax did combine to level with the dust their antique hall, In hopes the president would build a new..."
In 1789, all was new. The country had gained independence only a few years before. George Washington was soon to become America's first President. Also on this fateful year, the French would rise up to the call of equality, liberty and fraternity and ultimately slaughter of their own first principles. All that was once thought of as absolute -- God, Church and King -- was becoming more insubstantial than air. The last of the great colonial colleges, Dartmouth, was but a single, young, and bold, a voice crying out from natural wilderness within social wilderness.
In 1789, Dartmouth's faculty consisted of three professors, John Wheelock (son of the founder), professors Woodward and Smith, and one tutor. There were only 150 undergraduates in the College.
The three main structures on Campus were first, the not yet competed "Dartmouth Hall", second, the "ol' College" building, and finally, College Hall. Dartmouth Hall was still under construction and not yet utilized. The ol' College building was used for classes. College Hall, a dank, leaky, ancient building with bad design, was functioning as a student center, a type of library, a chapel, a party house and a place for the occasional class.
The Trustees of Dartmouth College, who had promised to rebuild College Hall, continued to delay either because of lack of funds or lack of interest in student complaints. A spirit a revolution, similar to that of the Boston tea party, slowly gathered. It filled the air. The students, dissatisfied with the incompetence or deafness of their superiors, resolved to band together and take care of the issue themselves. A pact of honor was sealed. The clock struck seven. Nothing could reverse the 75 students who solemnly assembled around College Hall, carrying various instruments of demolition.
Captain Freneau, called both "that rascal Freneau" by George Washington and the "Father of American Letters" by many historians of literature, was perhaps the first truly significant American writer. He was also a very outspoken reporter. In a manner quite similar to the way media to the south of us still cover Dartmouth news, Freneau heard of the juicy incident and quickly wrote the very popular poem "On the Demolition of Dartmouth College" for the Daily Advisor newspaper in New York.
Freneau wrote, "They pledged their sacred honors to proceed...but first some oaths they swore by candle light. On Euclid's Elements -- no bible did they heed. One must be true, they said, the other might." After the bell rang with "unaccustomed peal" they rushed out toward the building.
An old stodgy professor ran out and desperately tried to stop the students (or perhaps he was secretly amused!). "Ah rogues, said he, ah whither do ye run, bent on the ruin of that harmless pile...Reflect dear boys, some revered rats are there that now will have to scamper many a mile...For such attempts folks drink your high-proof wines, not wretched switchel and vile hogo drams, hardly sufficient to digest your Greek." Yet the poor professor was forced back. "One [student] smote a wall, and one dislodg'd a post. Tugg'd at a beam, or aim'd at pigeon holes, where Indian boys were want to study grammar: Indeed they took great pains, and dug like moles, and work'd -- as if to save their souls ... Down fell the Pile! -- aghast these rebels stood and wonder'd at the mischiefs they had done ... So three huzzas they gave, and fir'd a round. Then homeward trug'd -- half drunk -- but safe and sound."
Freneau seemed to imply (as do most modern media) that spirits governed Dartmouth student behavior more then sense. Looking deeper, I found a Vermont Journal Account describing the students as extremely well organized. "The compact was written within the center of a circle, around which were circumscribed the student's names, so that there was among them neither first nor last. This was an original piece of economy to prevent particular characters being exposed as leaders ... the order and regularity with which the students executed their engagements bespeak prudence and resolution, rather than riot ... they did not hesitate to humbly acknowledge the illegality of their proceedings ... besides which they have subscribed for the payment of little short of 100 (pounds?) for building a new chapel."
Not a single student was charged with arson or recklessness. Things went forward better than before. (I have my own unverifiable theory that the scraps of the demolished College Hall may have become the first true student bonfire. However, I really can't imagine that they danced, huzza'd and ran around burning remnants as we do on Homecoming. Yet anything is possible!) The students had faith enough in themselves to guide the College toward the obvious solution. They had the courage to organize the stamina to make a meaningful decision. I think that students can still have a similar (if more subdued) role in the College today. We students can communicate directly the real changes needed in the nature of student life on campus.
