Chapter 12: Collegians and Graduates in the 'Nineties

Reflecting in old age upon the state of the U. of R. when he assumed administrative duties, David Jayne. Hill felt that the conception of the institution as a corporate unity was singularly feeble. "Individuals came to learn something for themselves," he confided to his unpublished autobiography, "to obtain a degree, and to go away and seek for themselves the rewards their achievement would bring to them....The undergraduates, and the graduates, and to some extent... the Faculty were devoid of 'college spirit'... a sense of the corporate character of a college, in which all are members bound together to constitute a living organism for the performance of a recognized task in society...."

Understandably, Hill took pride in the knowledge that during his tenure and by reason of policies he pursued a stronger sense of institutional loyalty emerged. Many a student, as shown in undergraduate publications, agreed that a still warmer feeling of attachment to the college and its interests was a major urgency. At the same time, reminiscent voices appreciated the values that students, unconsciously or consciously, imparted to their fellows. "The campus is an ally of the classroom," one wrote. "Our schoolmates develop[ed] within us individuality as well as cooperation... Honor men have [had] the... ability to stir up those of less mental caliber... .The same rings [rang] true of interclass influence...." 1

Hoping to recruit a larger undergraduate body, Hill addressed a letter to clergymen in the Rochester sphere of influence recommending that they preach a sermon each year on the values and advantages of higher education. In the nature of advertising, too, Professor Fairchild arranged for the American Association for the Advancement of Science to hold its 1892 meeting in Rochester, some sessions being held in the Anderson Hall chapel. It brought to the community the most illustrious assembly of scientists, about a thousand of them, the city had ever entertained. Similarly, the University sent an exhibit to the World's Fair in Chicago (1893) --photographs of the institution, a forty-page descriptive booklet and copies of books written by graduates; two bronze medals were awarded to the college for the display.

Qualifications for entry to the college showed no substantial change in the 1890's and applications were handled in a rather free-and-easy manner. To reduce to a minimum the work involved, a printed form for admission had been devised. "For a rejection, the word 'not' was inserted in the blank space provided," the first full-time U. of R. registrar remembered; "for an acceptance with conditions, the subject or subjects involved were checked; and for a straight admission, the form was left blank except for the name of the student..."

Although total enrollment grew modestly during the decade, the trend was not consistently upward. For the academic year of 1897-98, 216 young men were on the campus, breaking all records, but only about eight out of ten were degree candidates. When standards of student performance were raised and scholarship funds for Freshmen were in short supply, the undergraduate population slumped. The tantalizing problem of "drop-outs" persisted; the class of 1895 froze its sentiments into a jingle:

Sixty in class were we,
When first we entered college,
Thirty by the wayside dropped,
Sated quite with knowledge.

Approximately half of the undergraduates in the 1890's came from Rochester homes, and almost all the rest were youths from small towns in the Upstate region. The class of 1895 contained the college's first Asiatic student, a Japanese, Sajiro Tateish. The object of curiosity in the city, he became involved in a street brawl (during a Sino-Japanese war); police arrested him but he was freed on the ground that he had fought in self-defense. Enthusiastic over his Rochester experience, Tateish vowed that on his return home he would write a book for his countrymen on American literature and unfurl the colors of the U. of R. over Mount Fujiyama! He founded a Tokyo firm that engaged in international trade.

During the Hill regime disciplinary problems lost something of their intensity, due half to the diplomatic finesse of the President and half to the outlets for undergraduate exuberance provided by an expanded athletic program. Traditional gum-shoe fights and hazardous class skirmishes up the Anderson Hall stairs yielded to tamer "rushes" between men of the underclasses. When Freshmen appeared (1890) at chapel carrying one of their number on their shoulders, waving a flag and chanting the class yell, Hill retorted by suspending the whole lot until appropriate apologies were forthcoming. After another outburst of rowdyism, the President informed the students in chapel that he had learned that disorders were less troublesome in coeducational colleges; pausing, he leaned forward and said, "Gentlemen, I hope you will not necessitate turning the girls loose on you!" Undergraduates applauded lustily and stamped their feet so vigorously that dust ascended in clouds.

Before coming to Rochester, Hill had been warned that the students habitually indulged in painting parties and vandalism on Hallowe'en: in his first years college buildings were daubed as usual, and once a fire set by roysterers had to be extinguished by city firefighters. But "Prexy" cracked down hard on the culprits and destructive Hallowe'en escapades ceased. After Hill resigned pranks and serious hazing affrays reappeared; in one case, three of the more raffish undergraduates were suspended for a year because of involvement in a piece of rowdyism that provoked energetic protests in the Rochester press.

More than once, the genial assistant librarian, Herman K. Phinney, whose "hirsute appendages" amused generations of undergraduates, was the subject of undergraduate doggerel, and the target of student pranks. To the tune of "Clementine, " undergraduates sang:

Phinney's whiskers,
Phinney's whiskers,
Fuzzy wuzzy, thin and spare!
They run races round the cases,
Flaunt themselves upon the air

On one occasion, Phinney's bicycle was hoisted to the top of the flagpole in front of Anderson Hall; when the antiquated vehicle was lowered to the ground, a daring young man rode the trophy away, concealed it in his fraternity house, and it was brought out only on "state occasions."

Cheating in the classroom was a perennial disciplinary perplexity, which the faculty tardily combatted by depriving erring youths of scholarships and by expulsion if the offense was repeated. 2

Inside the ranks of Phi Beta Kappa debate raged on the basis of selecting undergraduates to membership, but strong sentiment in favor of choosing men with promise of high achievement in their vocations, instead of only those of highest academic performance, lost out, and candidates from one class were reduced (1891) from one third to a quarter of all. A revised constitution of 1895 prescribed that the president and vice-president should hold office for only one year and that the latter and the secretary should be chosen from the University faculty; at the same time, the chapter was formally incorporated by the State of New York. When in 1897 the National Council of the Society drafted a constitution for all chapters, the Rochester constitution was converted into by-laws.

The Iota chapter met for its first formal dinner in 1898--at the Genesee Valley Club. Financially, the Society was in excellent condition with over $2,900 invested (1899) in mortgages along with bank deposits of $670; consequently, annual dues, which had been set at two dollars, were discontinued.

To the honors available for undergraduates the Elizabeth M. Anderson Prize, in memory of the wife of the first president, was added in 1891. Endowed by two alumni, the income would be awarded to the Senior most proficient in art studies. The Society of the Colonial Dames provided (1899) a prize of fifty dollars for the Senior who wrote the ablest essay on American colonial history. Of the extracurricular groups that were started in the 1890's, history clubs for Seniors and for Juniors were highly valued by their members. Morey served as the patron and Gilmore organized a Writers' Club. As witness to the growing importance of scientific subjects, a Scientific Club appeared in 1897. When in 1891 the Rochester alumnus and trustee J. Sloat Fassett, 1875, captured the Republican nomination for governor of New York State, under-graduates launched a Fassett Club to assist in the campaign. The slogan of the hour proclaimed:

A standard bearer has been found,
Who makes the Democrats give ground;
Our dauntless gladiator Sloat,
Has got the [Tammany] Tiger by the throat....

If true, the Fassett grip was not firm enough to win the election. But a Rochester mouthpiece of the Democrats denounced the University authorities for permitting a partisan organization on the campus, and it was proposed to fight back by canceling the exemption on real estate taxes which the college enjoyed.

Although its beginnings cannot be traced with precision, a Dramatics Club was founded and flourished in the 'nineties, under the name of the Swastika Club in some years. Starting off with small one act plays, the Club presented the more ambitious The Duenna at the Lyceum Theater in 1891; it was a dazzling triumph and city newspaper critics spoke glowingly of "the artistic work of the chorus of darling maidens " who played alongside of the prima donna and minor "male" characters. From 1898 onward, the college theater society put on annual shows at the Lyceum, "Uncle Tom's Cabin" being a production that drew roars of applause. A highlight of 1895 was a minstrel show, blending vaudeville with song and dance acts and, as a rollicking feature, staging a football game between the U. of R. and Vassar; the promoters gloated over a net profit of $500.

The health of musical organizations--Glee, Banjo, and Mandolin--reflected either the interest or the apathy of the student body. If not enough under-graduates with good voices were available, the Glee Club nonchalantly enlisted town youths to fill out its ranks, Home concerts and fairly long tours (which the faculty blessed by granting leaves of absence) were undertaken whenever the quality of the clubs was outstanding. 3

Under the goad of student agitation, a spate of college songs was written in the 1890's. A popular one, known originally as "The Genesee" and eventually as one of the "Alma Maters," came (1890) from the fertile pen of Thomas T. Swinburne, ex-1892. It began:

Beside the river Genesee
Where crystal waters fall and flow,
And where the mills sing merrily,
And fairest trees and flowers grow,
'Tis here our Alma Mater lies,
Endeared to us by many ties.

A Rochester youth of seventeen. Frank N. Mandeville, set the verse to music; not a college student, he played the piano for the Glee Club, which kept the song in its repertory.

Another Swinburne production, originally known as "The New Genesee," solidified into the form of the official Alma Mater sung in the twentieth century. Herve D. Wilkins, 1866, a Rochester church organist, arranged its simple tune from an old English song.

Full many fair and famous streams
Beneath the sun there be,
But more to us than any seems
Our own dear Genesee
We love her banks and stately falls,
For to our minds they bring
Our dear old Alma Mater's halls,
Where sweetest memories cling.

As flows the river gathering force
Along her steadfast way,
May we along life's devious course
Grow stronger day by day:
And may our hearts where'er we roam
Forever loyal be
To our beloved college home
Beside the Genesee.

At the time this "Alma Mater" was written, the University campus was rather remote from the Genesee River, and the author, dreamy by nature though he was, could scarcely have imagined how appropriate his verse would become after the occupation of the River Campus in 1930.

With Swinburne as editor, a U. of R. songbook came off the press in 1895; it contained classical and popular songs, fraternity and college melodies. A good deal of the original music was written by Wilkins. One stanza of a new lyric, called "Rochester, " that had ephemeral popularity read:

Thy fair name, then, widely spreading
We will make secure,
Thy fair fame, beauty round shedding,
Always shall endure.
Rochester, we love, Rochester,
Always for thee we'll sing,
Thou shalt be our adoration,
Tributes of praise we bring.

To the tune of "March of the Men of Harlech," Henry H. Barstow, 1893, composed "Rochester the Fair:"

Temple fair of classic story;
Shrine of Wisdom, sage and hoary;
Rich in honor, rich in glory: --
Rochester the Fair.

To her altar come we singing,
Warm affection's offerings bringing,
Harps and timbrels gaily ringing.
Praises on the air...

"The Parting Song," which had its day and then ceased to be, pleaded:

Come friends and class-mates, e'er we part,
Let's sing another song,
With voices joined, and heart with heart,
This happy hour prolong.
It may be many weary days
E'er we again shall meet;
So to our Alma Mater's praise
This parting strain repeat.


O Rochester, our mother dear!
Who e'er can thee forget?
While suns shall rise thy name we'll prize,
Nor cease when suns have set.

One Richard Greene, unlisted in the college records, brought out a somewhat satirical ballad, "The University," sung to the tune of "America."

My college, 'tis of thee,
Dear University
Of thee I sing.
I love thy weird walls,
Thy large and cheerful halls,
Clear to the Lower Falls
Thy praises ring...
All things must end, they say,
Oh, how we hope and pray
Some of these will.
When will our "cuts" increase?
When will these changes cease?
When, when shall we have peace?
Tell us, Oh Hill.


The Greek letter societies in the nineties strengthened their place in the life of the college by erecting chapter houses; in some cases they had recently acquired entire residences. The existence of fraternity houses at other New York State colleges, the absence of dormitories at Rochester, and the sympathetic attitude of the Hill administration opened the way to this new era in Greek fraternalism. Delta Psi paced the field by building a handsome home on Washington Street (1889) in a choice residential district of the city; however, the society soon fell on evil days and completely folded up in 1896, several of the members affiliating with other fraternities.

When the brothers of Delta Upsilon requested permission of the University trustees to erect a home in the college park, the petition was turned down; the society then (1890) acquired a property at the southwest corner of University Avenue and Strathallan Park and built a house that was occupied until 1930. Heavily mortgaged, it looked in 1898 as though the property might be lost by fore-closure, but the University trustees stepped in, and, though unwilling to assume the mortgage, extended a large loan to the fraternity. From the University, Psi Upsilon purchased a plot of ground on Prince Street attached to the residence of President Hill and erected a house at an overall cost of approximately $18,000. A rising Rochester architect and builder, J. Foster Warner, had the structure ready for occupancy in January, 1893.

Responding to the competition, Alpha Delta Phi in 1894 moved into a new home at the southwest corner of Prince and Main Streets. Of the 223 living members of the chapter, 162 pledged over $12,000, and at the dedication ceremonial two charter members of the society, class of 1851, participated. The house contained, in addition to living and dining rooms, a library or card room and an area to stow bicycles. On the second floor, seven study rooms were designed for two occupants each; on the third level were seven small bedrooms and a hall for chapter meetings. Only one bathroom was installed; whether it had a shower, such as the D U establishment boasted, is not recorded.

Instead of a building purposely designed for a fraternity, Delta Kappa Epsilon purchased a residence on Alexander Street, which served until 1918, and Theta Delta Chi rented a place on Park Avenue; inactive after 1879, the latter fraternity was re-established in 1892.

To promote general deviltry "The Knights of Stygian Gloom" came on the scene in 1890 and eight years later a "Cod Liver Oil Club" started on an abbreviated career. To the list of class societies Freshmen added a chapter of the national Theta Delta Theta (1891), which appears to have been known also as Skull and Serpent, and Seniors established (1893) Alpha Chi Omega; neither of these organizations, it seems, lasted very long. Excessive worship at the twin shrines of hooliganism and Bacchus caused the faculty (about 1900) to ban the Sophomore fraternity of Theta Nu Epsilon. 5

As has been indicated, the denominational character of the U. of R. declined during the Hill Administration and the tradition of toleration for any and every pattern of religious outlook was reinforced. Chapel services, the annual day of prayer for colleges, and the Y. M. C. A. and its daily prayer meetings ministered to undergraduate needs--but of religious revivals there is no evidence. Under the auspices of the "Y" a student handbook (or Frosh "Bible") "published in the service of the Master," first came out in 1890. It cited as peculiar hallmarks of the U. of R. the freedom allowed to the students and the opportunity to become identified with the public and social life of the city. As its objective, the "Y" aimed to promote among students "the Truths of the Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Man." The handbook stated that the college, while strictly non-sectarian in its teaching, "is largely patronized by the Baptists... " For the benefit of greenlings, it also outlined the customs and the extracurricular organizations on the campus.

To the "Y" Professor Gilmore gave weekly talks on religious subjects, and when a Campus editor asked whether it was true, as had been reported, that the college was irreligious, the professor of English vigorously replied that in fact the religious spirit had deepened steadily on the campus, being effectively nourished by the "Y". A survey of 1890 disclosed that nearly two undergraduates out of three belonged to a church, slightly more than half of them to the Baptist Church. Youths from Protestant homes predominated; in 1894 there were seven undergraduates of the Roman Catholic faith and five of the Jewish. 6

Many students attended public lectures in the city given by leading lights of the day such as the Russian "Nihilist" Sergius Stepniak, Henry M. Stanley, African explorer, and John Fiske, philosopher-historian. When the celebrated French tragedienne, Sarah Bernhardt, visited (1896) Rochester, undergraduates serenaded her lustily, and in compensation she handed over twenty-five tickets for "La Tosca;" after the performance students presented the benevolent star with a bouquet in which was concealed a gold-mounted pocketbook with "U. of R." stamped upon it.

Undergraduate publications responded to the innovating impact of the Hill administration. The Campus, which was published as a weekly throughout most of the 'nineties, introduced columns on fraternity and athletic news and on "Current Topics," devoted to national and world affairs; more space was allocated to student letters, literary pieces, pictures, and advertisements. From time to time the pages of the Campus were embellished with contributed articles: Professor Dodge on "Vivisection," for example, Shedd on "American Students at German Universities;" one student penned an interesting series on German university life and the Japanese Tateish described the "Imperial University of Japan." From the city the Unitarian minister, William C. Gannett, sent a poem, and Claude Bragdon, philosopher-architect, an essay.

Occasionally, the Campus was dressed in a gaudy green cover or a giddy yellow one, designed to impress incoming Freshmen. A gala issue of 1898 carried advertisements from a dentist, a tailor, a cleaning establishment, a livery stable, an athletic supply house, a cobbler, a shoe store, a whiskey shop, the Bausch and Lomb Optical Company, Syracuse Medical College, and an employment agency--the revenues that accrued must have gratified the Campus business manager, who ordinarily found it next to impossible to keep the budget in balance. In 1891 the U. of R. joined with papers in other Upstate New York colleges in setting up an Intercollegiate Press Association, dedicated to improving the quality of undergraduate journalism.

It was standard practice for the Interpres to carry a stereotyped statement that the current yearbook was "the best ever." Year by year, pictures increased in number and in quality; they bore captions such as "an instantaneous Kodak photograph" or "made with a Kodak." In this decade, too, it became habitual to print individual photographs of the men of the Junior Class and to list the extracurricular, activities in which each had engaged. In sheer volume of advertising the yearbook far outstripped the Campus.


In the sports department the big event of the Hill era was the coming of football in the autumn of 1889, hitherto largely a New England college game. Two transfer students who had football experience, William A. ("Bill") Perrin from Yale and G. Fred Love from Bucknell, acted as teachers in the absence of a regular coach; Love also performed as club captain, though his name is missing from the official U. of R. catalogue. After an enthusiastic student rally, a stock company was formed to finance the team, and even some professors bought "shares." About fifteen men (nine wearing mustaches) came out daily for two hours of stiff practice; for actual games players bought and wore snappy gray canvas uniforms trimmed with blue, but padding and helmets were unknown. Games were played in two forty-five minute halves. Punting furnished the most exciting thrills; there was little blocking to help a runner carrying the ball, and the forward pass had not yet been invented.

In 1889-1890 Rochester united with Syracuse, Hamilton, and Union to form a New York Intercollegiate Football Association. Starting on October 4, the U. of R. played ten games in all, winning five, losing three, and tieing two. Rochester area elevens and nearby and New England colleges were the opponents; at the peak of the season three games were played in four days by twelve men! In a contest with Cornell--the first U. of R. intercollegiate encounter--the score favored the yeomen from Ithaca, 106 to 0; but a win over Syracuse--36 to 0--balanced matters somewhat. Home contests were played on the Culver Park grounds on University Avenue, now (1968) occupied by the Gleason Works.

For avid undergraduate sportsmen football promptly became the most momentous item on the college athletic calendar. A game with Hamilton College in 1896 attracted 5,000 spectators. Not only did certain professors help the team along financially, but the faculty even excused absences from classes when players were competing on foreign fields--a concession denied baseball athletes a few years before. Here was plain testimony that the fundamental philosophy of "all work and no play," which President Anderson had consistently espoused, was undergoing modification. An enterprising haircutter in the city advertised, "Jake's, the well known college barber, originator of The Football Haircut--Employs none but artists."

Football contests possessed a quality of roughness which prompted a Rochester newspaper to refer to the sport as "the American substitute for the Spanish bullfight." Factual evidence for that judgment was plentiful. At Syracuse (1890) opposing elevens engaged in violent fisticuffs, and the Rochester team left the field claiming a victory; the top official agreed, but partisans of the Salt City club insisted he was wrong, and no persuasion could change their minds. In a game at Union College, local zealots, the Campus reported, "prodded the ribs of our team with their walking sticks," while the Union foemen "not content with ordinary slugging and shin-kicking... derived much amusement from ... kicking our men in the face ... at the bottom of the heap." Besides this "vicious... beastly" conduct, the Union team tried to insert sixteen men into the lineup; nevertheless, virtue triumphed and Rochester emerged the winner.

During a game at Albany, it was a spectator who had the nasty habit of punching any U. of R. runner who smashed through the opposing line; play stopped abruptly when the nose of a Rochester man was broken.

The referee in another encounter with Union proved himself "a thorough scoundrel and a cheat." When the Rochester players remonstrated vigorously over his decisions, the official shot back, "Gentlemen, I cannot be scared; I have seen too many cock-fights. I have had altogether too much to do with the prize-ring to be influenced by the bluffs of college boys." Although the Union eleven failed to cross the goal line, the referee declared it had won the game.

Rochester met Hobart on the gridiron for the first time in 1892 and with slight interruptions the rivalry endured, becoming indeed the "big attraction" for many seasons. So that football might be played on the campus, a grandstand, built in 1890, was moved back and trees were cut down; baths and lockers for the gridiron athletes were belatedly installed in the cellar of Anderson Hall. So well did the team perform in 1897 that the Campus proudly proclaimed, "Rochester stands at the head of the smaller colleges and morally is on a par with Pennsylvania."

It should be pointed out perhaps that the scoring system was altered from time to time. Beginning in 1897, a touchdown counted five points (instead of four), a field goal the same (four in 1904), a goal after touchdown one point (instead of two), and a safety two. The "Big Three" and the University of Pennsylvania, from which virtually every one of the "All-American" performers were chosen, practically determined, it seems, the rules of the game. During the 'nineties drastic revisions were made--on paper at any rate. Instead of ninety minutes play lasted seventy minutes (later cut to sixty), with a recuperating spell between halves. Players might not lay hands on an opponent unless he actually had the ball in his possession, nor could more than three men move before the center snapped the ball. Into the twentieth century linemen, instead of crouching, stood bolt upright and fought opponents hammer and tongs; little attention was given to tackling or furnishing interference for the ball-carrier. A legal or standard match required the presence of three officials.

Time and again at the U. of R., the question of player eligibility came under discussion. "Throughout the fall," the Campus observed in 1895, "one and sometimes two 'ringers' have played in nearly every game and on Thanksgiving Day five!" (even so, Hamilton won out). Next year, a group of students demanded that the football captain should resign since he was not regularly enrolled in the college, and the faculty adopted a resolution that only bona fide undergraduates should participate on any team; no student would be allowed to play, moreover, "who has received any pecuniary consideration for that purpose, either directly or indirectly." Beyond that, the professors suspended three star performers who were guilty of excessive absences from classes. The decision provoked a fierce uproar in undergraduate circles, but the faculty declined to recant. Representatives of the U. of R. and other Upstate New York institutions, except Cornell, discussed (1896) the formation of an intercollegiate athletic association and the establishment of an eligibility code, but the project floundered, allegedly because of the uncooperative stance of Syracuse University. 7

Although football more or less dominated the athletic scene, other sports likewise prospered. College records were repeatedly broken in the annual field days or in intercollegiate track meets; beginning in 1895 the foremost Rochester performer was awarded the Briggs Gold Medal. Baseball maintained its popularity, both with class nines and with other colleges; it was a proud afternoon for Rochester when Jesse B. ("Burt") Warren, 1892, slugged out (1890) three homers in a match with Syracuse. On the other side of the ledger, in a contest with Colgate, Rochester had a comfortable lead in the seventh inning when a violent thunderstorm approached. That prospect persuaded the U. of R. men that darkness would soon put an end to play, and so they stalled around; the irate umpire declared the game forfeit to the Colgate nine.

In response to a student request, Sibley basement was converted into a baseball cage, and indoor baseball (football, too) grew into a craze. For fraternity tennis players, courts were laid out to the west of Sibley Hall. A Gun Club was organized, and a good deal of talk was heard anew about a college crew; but the outcome of the discussions has been lost in the fog of time--almost certainly nothing resulted.

And in the 'nineties a newcomer to the sporting program, basketball, had its debut; whereas football (and only less so baseball) was, the product of an intriguing evolution, basketball was essentially a purposeful invention. According to the Campus (1892) (which was in error), the game was devised at Cornell, and "may be said to be to indoor exercise what football is to the athletic field." Presently, undergraduates learned that the new sport was played with baskets ten feet from the ground--either indoors or outdoors. Nine men comprised a standard team: a goalkeeper, two guards, two centers, two wings, and a home man. "If a player runs with the ball," it was explained, "uses his arms or body in holding it, or shoulders, holds, pushes, or trips his opponent, a foul is called. Three consecutive fouls count a goal for he other side." Usually, a contest lasted thirty minutes with a five minute interval between halves. Evidently the lack of a campus gymnasium militated against the prompt adoption of this athletic novelty at Rochester; the first recorded game occurred in February, 1899, men of the college competing against the Rochester Business Institute. 8


For reasons less than clear, the idea got about that gray and blue were unsuitable colors for the U. of R. An alumni committee on the subject recommended goldenrod yellow, similar to the band frequently seen in boxes of cigars, and since research revealed that no other college had adopted that color it was formally chosen for Rochester. But the selection failed to satisfy, and in 1893 dandelion yellow was picked as the official color--and it stuck, though not without recurrent criticism that yellow, identical with the emblem of the Women's Suffrage movement, was insufficiently masculine. As a badge of distinction, the student body adopted a small pin with "U. of R." emblazoned against a yellow background.

Class yells attained unexampled popularity. The men of 1896, for example, rent the air with

Waxie, Coax, Coax, Coax,
Waxie, Coax, Coax, Coax,
Wahoo, Wahoo,
Hullabaloo, Rochester.

Into the 1890's the attitude of the U. of R. administration had been either hostile or tolerantly indifferent with regard to athletics. Sports-minded undergraduates decided everything to suit themselves, from eligibility of players through employment of coaches to money matters. On two occasions in the late 'nineties, student managers of football, assuming that the weather would be inclement for the big Thanksgiving Day game, "sold" the gate receipts to local speculators. The day proved to be fair, however, and the purchasers pocketed fat sums. At that juncture, the faculty stepped in and gradually athletic events were incorporated more or less formally into the collegiate program.

It was the conviction of Professor Morey that extracurricular activities were worthwhile since they diverted undergraduates from unhealthy or demoralizing forms of recreation. His exact language was, "The saloon and billiard room are robbed of their temptations when encouragement is given to the more healthful attractions afforded by athletic and musical clubs."

In harmony with that appraisal, a faculty committee on athletics was appointed and in 1898 on its recommendation a University Council, embracing delegates from the trustees, faculty, alumni, and undergraduates, was organized. A formal constitution, dated October 26, 1898, defined the purpose of the Council as the promotion of college interests "through the supervision and control of all athletic organizations, musical, and dramatic clubs and other associations of students assuming to represent the University... before the public." More precisely, the Council was intended to apply business management to extracurricular finances and to eliminate the employment of professional players in intercollegiate games. Before long the Campus, too (though not the Interpres), was placed under the jurisdiction of the Council, and the results were praiseworthy; debts were liquidated and the use of "ringers," if not wholly stopped, was sharply reduced. In a subsequent generation the Council evolved into the Board of Control. 9

The student way of life was broadened in the 'nineties by formal dances at which gown and town mingled. The initial large affair--a University Ball--was staged in 1893 at the hall and art gallery of the Powers Building. Young faculty men hustled about the floor with as much grace and élan as undergraduates, and "the atmosphere seemed charged with electricity," so an observer wrote, and so it was. Within a few years a Junior Prom had turned into an annual affair, overshadowing other social occasions; in 1900 the Prom was the initial even to be held in the Alumni Gymnasium. A Senior Ball, customarily at the Genesee Valley Club, soon became a fixture on the undergraduate calendar.

When the faculty arranged (1894) a festive party for the students on the campus, with readings, singing, and dancing, an ecstatic undergraduate waxed poetic:

Oh the Faculty held a ball
One evening at Anderson Hall.
Pretty maidens were there
With smiles sweet and rare--

and more in the same happy vein. By way of innovation, too, professors entertained undergraduates at receptions in their homes and managed to have an ample supply of local young ladies present.

The outbreak of the war with Spain in 1898 stirred up considerable excitement in the student body, but it soon subsided--as did the war itself. Seniors who enlisted in the army were assured of their diplomas; at least fourteen U. of R. men were in uniform. 10

The maximum cost of an education at Rochester in the 'nineties was about $600. Out-of-town students lodged in fraternity houses or, as in the past, with townspeople. College charges stood at $75 for three terms, and students could make arrangements to defer payments until after graduation by signing non-interest bearing notes; tuition fees were waived for sons of U. of R. professors. Although never plentiful enough, scholarships preserved the reputation of the college as a democratic institution without criteria of money or birth. Laboratory fees in chemistry varied from $25 to $33 depending on the courses involved, and small charges were made for the use of other scientific laboratories. A few students who worked their way through the college accumulated funds beyond their expenses by tutoring, playing in bands, and the like. Fred L. Lamson, 1896, recalled that he Matriculated with only fifty dollars on hand, but graduated with $350 in the bank! 11


In each year of his tenure, except the last, President Hill departed from tradition by delivering the baccalaureate sermon during the Commencement period. And, in keeping with his determination to tighten the connections with the Rochester community, the exercises were twice held in a Presbyterian Church instead of the customary First Baptist. As a rule, other events of Commencement week, except for alumni gatherings, were held in the new Lyceum Theater. Unless internal class strife prevented, the Senior class day continued to be an extremely popular affair. Robed in black gowns, the Seniors, attended by Juniors in gowns of white and purple, paraded to the Theater for the more formal features of the day and marched back to the campus for a songfest and planting of the class tree. By the end of the century many trees of the early classes on Prince Street, had died, alas, leaving only a white marble stone with class numerals to tell the tale.

In the archives of the University reposes an envelope marked "Clara's Rib," holding a disintegrating fragment of a human rib. An accompanying statement by the Class of 1897 relates that a complete female skeleton, hidden for years, would be the guest of honor at class day, and would then be entrusted to Juniors for safekeeping, in accordance with the custom of generations. It was the duty of the Junior Bone Orator to welcome "Clara, a lass with class," to class day exercises and, when a Senior, to bid "the skeleton sweetheart" a fond farewell. Year after year, the lady inspired a profusion of rhyme and song, one verse of homage used by the 1899 class reading:

As classmates true we're here to woo,
Thy charm is cast upon us,
Fair Clara we thy love would be
As Venus and Adonis.
O dearest maid, no hungry spade
Thy fate shall e'er decide now;
But hearts instead are trumps, so wed
Us, and become our bride now!...

We'll bloomers buy and you shall try
The highest-grade Bone Shaker!
Our time is spent--wilt thou consent?
'Tis done! Our joy would swell,
So in thy praise we gladly raise
The finest-yet class yell!
of R. XCIX!

For the class spectacle in 1898, "Clara" was ceremonially paraded and then "elevated in gruesome beauty" in the Lyceum Theater. Following sublime obeisance, she was transported to the Prince Street Campus, where, alas and alack, an unseemly, furious scuffle over the lady ensued, involving Seniors and a contingent of covetous fraternity men. In the course of the melee, portions of her anatomy were detached; an enterprising Senior converted a piece that he salvaged into an ornament which later decorated his residential quarters at the University of Pennsylvania medical school...then it vanished. The section of the skeleton that remained in Rochester came forth for the last time in 1900, the Seniors chanting this heartless chorus:

Yet though our bosoms swell
With thoughts we cannot tell
We must in sooth
Confess the truth
We gladly say farewell!

The fate of the last remnant, except for a thumb-sized chip of rib, is shrouded in mystery--begs for "Clara-fication" to this hour.

To tone up Commencement week, Sophomore competitors for the Dewey Prize were restricted to men who spoke well and the same principle was applied on graduation day to Senior orators, whose number had been reduced to twelve. Apparently, graduating men first wore caps and gowns in 1892. In the Anderson tradition, Hill invariably sent the graduates on their way with an impressive and inspiring address. "Our ideal," he told one class "is to teach young men... to know and to master [the world]"--a decidedly lofty ambition.

On recommendation of the faculty, the trustees voted (1890) to stop conferring honorary Ph.D.s--the last had been granted seven years earlier. Selection of honorary degree recipients remained exclusively a trustee responsibility. The bestowal of the doctorate upon persons hardly worthy of the honor had become an abuse at Rochester as at other American colleges; by 1895 the University had handed out 203 honorary degrees, according to the Campus. Cornell, incidentally, never handed out an honorary degree--or rather only two. In 1897 it was decided to restrict the dignity of doctor at the U. of R. to divinity and laws--a rule that prevailed until 1904 when a master's honor and a Litt. D. were added.

Usually, Hill held a Commencement Reception at the presidential residence, but during the interregnum this popular affair was moved to the Powers Hotel. Alumni met in a downtown hall for a "smoker's concert," until protestations from a crusading anti-nicotine woman's organization forced the title to be modified to "social reunion." As a big event of the Commencement season, alumni lunched in a tent raised on the campus, and listened to speeches on the bright prospects of the college and its dire need for financial support; they learned (1893) that fewer than forty graduates in the entire history of the institution had ever contributed "a single meet current expenses." Nearly all, however, had given to the Anderson Alumni Fund and many made gifts for the Alumni Gymnasium. 12


In 1900, a joint trustee-faculty committee planned something distinctive for a unique occasion--the celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of the college in conjunction with Commencement week. Impressive and moving ceremonies were arranged, as would be expected in an academic community graced with dignity and decorum, yet less dull in fact than a later generation might have imagined. College buildings, especially the new Alumni Gymnasium, and the cluster of Greek-letter houses roundabout the college property were festooned with American flags and dandelion yellow streamers. For four days University audiences heard sermons, addresses, and remarks--and then, as if Rochester had not had its fill, the city on the fifth day paid tumultuous tribute to its greatest soldier, General Elwell S. Otis, class of 1858, fresh from military and administrative triumphs in the Philippines. In spite of all, it may be imagined that some Rochesterians took time to witness "Romeo and Juliet" on the Lyceum stage, to watch an itinerant circus, and to read banner press headlines about the furious Boxer Rebellion and the Boer insurgency in South Africa.

For the Baccalaureate service, Acting President Burton in the chair, a Baptist clergyman, Thomas E. Brown of Franklin, Pennsylvania, who had been given (1875) an honorary degree in divinity, preached an anniversary sermon. Entitled "The Permanent Influence of Sacrifice," it was largely a moving eulogy of Martin B. Anderson. The dedication of the Alumni Gymnasium on the morning of Monday, June 11, was for many guests the high point of the University jubilee. The original chairman of the alumni fund-raising committee, Howard B. Grose, 1876, ex-president of the University of South Dakota, captivated the audience with a poetic effort, "Congratulations."

Congratulo - you men of steel,
Who made to us your stern appeal?
Gymnasium committee you,
Who pushed the daring project through,
To whom this day's result is due,
We all call it ours we have our share...

Congratulo - our trustees, too,
Who've waked to a progressive view,
And added to the U R forces
A new Prex of the power Rhees - sources...

Professor Alonzo A. Stagg of the University of Chicago, nationally renowned as a champion of physical culture and athletics for collegians, delivered the formal address of dedication. Alluding to the Gymnasium as a "beautiful temple for recreation and rejuvenescence," he dwelt upon the moral values of physical training and the necessity of having students healthy in body as well as healthy in mind. Over-indulgence in sports was harmful, he was sure though less deplorable than avoidance of exercise. The audience responded enthusiastically to Stagg's philosophy--and then heard reports on the financing of the "temple." Before the day was over, the new athletic facility witnessed the traditional Senior class exercises and the annual Dewey Prize declamations by Sophomores.

On Tuesday, the alumni and the Phi Beta Kappa Society held business meetings in the Monroe County Court House, while a students' dinner was eaten in the Gymnasium. In the evening, Merrill E. Gates, 1870, ex-president of Amherst, addressed the alumni at the Lyceum Theater on "Personality in Politics." In his long, wide-ranging discourse Gates remarked upon the enrichment of the "fair City of Flowers" by the college, appealed earnestly for alumni loyalty, extolled the glories of Greek culture, and defined the mission of the college in terms of inculcating citizen responsibility, a sense of true leader-ship, and development of personality. He had a good deal to say, too, on the Christian heritage, and the inspiration afforded by "the King of Kings and Lord of Lords." Afterward the alumni and friends repaired to the Gymnasium for a social gathering.

Wednesday, June 12, billed as "Semi-Centennial Day," started off with exercises at the Lyceum Theater. With venerable Trustee President Edward Mott Moore in the chair, Acting President Burton said that the purposes of the celebration were to recall the past of the college, reinforce alumni bonds to Alma Mater, and obtain guidance, fresh vigor, and courage for the new century. An historical address on the University, prepared by Professor Morey, was read for the author, who was prevented by illness from attending. As he interpreted the half-century record, the U. of R. from "its beginning combined... the spirit of conservation and the spirit of progress.... " It was a story of which all friends of the college "may justly be proud. Its past achievements are a sufficient justification of its establishment, and its present condition is an adequate assurance of its future progress."

Next came William T. Harris, United States Commissioner of Education, who discussed "The Past and Future of the University in America." After a somewhat abstract exposition of his theme, Harris drew telling comparisons between higher education in Europe and America, commented appreciatively on the intellectual nourishment afforded by study of the classics, and dwelt upon the urgency of effective pre-professional and post-graduate training. Perplexing national problems, moreover, required college-educated minds for effective solution. Harris praised Rochester for its accomplishments and voiced the hope that in the next fifty years the institution would exert as beneficent an influence upon the nation as in its first half century. Orchestral music and singing were sandwiched in between speech-making.

At the evening affair in the Lyceum Theater, former President David J. Hill, Assistant Secretary of State, presided and was warmly welcomed by a "brilliant assemblage." In his opening remarks Hill rehearsed the advantages of the small college, recalled the towering personalities of the U. of R. past, and then introduced "a man among men, " a scholar, author, and public servant, the Governor of New York, Theodore Roosevelt. Besides appearing on the Lyceum stage, the energetic "Rough Rider," forty-one years of age had put in a typically strenuous day. He had dashed off to the nearby village of Caledonia to unveil a Civil War monument and had fraternized with his brothers in both Alpha Delta Phi and Delta Kappa Epsilon. His short address, "Promise and Performance," referred mainly to public affairs, to politicians, and the power of public opinion. He departed somewhat from his prepared manuscript; as a newspaper reporter had it, Roosevelt spoke in his well-known rugged style, free of affectation, and he was repeatedly interrupted by outbursts of applause. "I ask of you," declared the man who fifteen months later became President of the United States, "I ask of you that practical common sense which will make decency, honesty, courage of avail" in public as in private life.

Bringing greetings from Colgate University, Professor Newton L. Andrews spoke of the historical linkages between his college and the U. of R. The Rev. Robert S. MacArthur, 1867, recalled at some length, "The Founders of the University and the University they Founded," and Mayor George A. Carnahan recounted the debt of the city of Rochester to the college. He stressed the importance of teaching "intelligent civic patriotism," competent to "deal with common public affairs of everyday life... "

By the time J. Sloat Fassett, 1875, was called upon to consider "The Alumni and their Alma Mater," the audience, having listened to four speakers, was drowsy, if not indeed in a comatose condition. Instead of the address he had planned to give, the witty and polished politician spoke briefly and entertainingly on the aims of institutions of learning, the attainments of Rochester men in the varied pursuits of life, and the affection and esteem of the alumni for the devoted teachers of the college.

Following the customary graduation ceremonies on the 14th, at which twenty-eight candidates received bachelor degrees, the alumni and friends of the college congregated once more in the Gymnasium for lunch. Speakers--of which there were thirteen--were requested to condense their sentiments into five-minute performances. In his capacity as president of the Associated Alumni, the Reverend Henry, L. Morehouse, 1858, hailed the presence of nearly one half of the living graduates, and compared the original home of the U. of R. in which he had studied with "the magnificent campus" and "splendid equipment" of 1900. "The influence of the University extends over the world from Maine to Manila," he reminded the audience.

Since the birth of his first son in Newton Centre, Massachusetts kept Professor Rush Rhees from participating in the jubilee, the President-elect sent a letter expressing regret for his absence, gratitude for the goodly inheritances the college had received from the past, and high hopes for the future. "I count it most auspicious," he wrote, "that I am to enter on my work with the memory of this worthy past fresh in all our minds, and to acknowledge that I have it as my firm purpose to build on the foundations already laid a structure worthy in some measure of the wisdom and the courage of the men who...have put their lives and their wealth into this godly and exalted enterprise."

Representatives of the Rochester Theological Seminary, the University trustees, the colleges of the Empire State, the State Board of Regents, the faculty, and of the U. of R. Class of 1851--each and all had their say. Rounding off the affair, David J. Hill peered into "Our Future." The decision recently taken by the trustees to admit women on the same terms as men the former President termed "disturbing," yet he had confidence that the challenge would be surmounted. He rejoiced over the enthusiasm for the college manifested by the alumni and asked that the new chief executive should be cordially received. "Let us make his heart warm with our welcome and he will be an efficient and potent factor in building up our loved University," Hill said. At the conclusion of the affair, Burton rushed to his office, plunked down his high silk hat, and exclaimed, "Thank the Lord, this is all over;" perhaps he expressed a widely-shared opinion. Even so, he plucked up enough energy to serve as host at a President's Reception in the Powers Hotel; music and dancing invested the party with becoming gaiety.

So the U. of R. was made ready to enter the new century with a new president, new blood in the governing corporation, a new athletic building, and a new student element--women. At that time, the University park contained only four academic buildings, frequented by about two hundred students, a faculty of sixteen, and a supporting cast of five--an assistant librarian and an aide, a mechanic in the physics laboratory, a janitor, and a registrar, twenty-one in all on the payroll. Annual operating expenses had risen to slightly over $45,000 and the productive resources approached $750,000, which may be compared with Harvard's $13,000,000 and Yale's $5,000,000.


Not every U. of R. graduate acquired fame, prestige, or wealth, but each June from the campus a small group of young men went forth who achieved respect in their communities and reflected credit on their Alma Mater. Without reckoning "eclectics" and special students for the most part--few of them are listed on the official college roster--the living graduates as of 1900 exceeded 1,100. Six out of ten alumni had found their lifework either in the church or as teachers; in the latter category belonged nineteen college presidents and seventy-nine professors. Lawyers made up a quarter of the alumni body and men in government employment constituted a tenth; only about one in seven was classified as a business man and one in twelve was a physician. Sixty-nine graduates were recorded as newspapermen, fifteen as civil engineers, and three as architects. Alumni lived in every state of the Union and in most European and several Asiatic countries. 14

The alumni body, which in 1894 was incorporated as "the Associated Alumni of the U. of R." and equipped with a new constitution and by-laws, had grown into a more valuable asset of the college. Either individually or through regional clubs, graduates fostered interest in the University in the localities where they resided, and assisted somewhat in the recruitment of students. On occasion, they responded with financial support, notably in the funds for the Anderson Memorial and the Gymnasium. Sports-minded alumni displayed lively interest in intercollegiate athletics and welcomed representation on the new University Council.

It was believed in some quarters that alumni concern for institutional welfare would be enhanced if they were permitted to choose some of the men on the governing corporation. As early as 1893, the officers of the alumni association petitioned the trustees for the right to elect five members, pointing out that graduates shared in picking trustees at Yale and Amherst. (Since 1874 Cornell alumni had elected a trustee.) On the issue of direct alumni representation, the trustees procrastinated, finally deeming it inexpedient to allow alumni the privilege of the suffrage. Attention was called to the fact that as matters stood a majority of the trustees had earned baccalaureates at Rochester. 15

In many areas of life, graduates of the 'nineties attained positions of leadership and eminence. Three men of the class of 1889, Ryland M. Kendrick, Henry E. Lawrence, and Kendrick P. Shedd filled professorships at the U. of R., and Albert J. Ramaker, 1895, was professor of church history and dean of the German Department of the Rochester Theological Seminary. New York State ornithologist and notable professor of biology at Hobart and William Smith Colleges, Elon H. Eaton, 1890, received (1927) an honorary doctorate from the U. of R. The most noted man of science of the decade, Ira S. Wile, 1898, graduated with a baccalaureate in both arts and in science; as a bacteriologist and a leader in public health and education, Wile achieved high esteem in New York City.

Able schoolmen were Albert H. Wilcox, 1890, beloved principal of Rochester's East High School, and Herbert S. Weet, 1899, who as superintendent of schools in Rochester pioneered in the junior high school plan, in employing school psychologists, and in furnishing special schooling for the handicapped. Weet belonged to the U. of R. trustee Board and cooperated with President Valentine in dealing with peculiar administrative chores thrown up by the Second World War. His first lieutenant, Joseph P. O'Hern, 1892, Roger W. Swetland, 1894, long headmaster of Peddie Institute and an honorary Rochester LL.D. (1916), Mason D. Gray, 1897, and William Betz, 1898, who improved methods of teaching Latin and mathematics respectively, merit mention.

Among the clergymen of distinction were Robert B. Pattison, 1899, prominent in the Baptist Church, William A. Petzhold, non-graduate 1897, missionary to the Crow Indians in Montana and a national figure in Indian education, and his classmate, Charles B. Tenny, who as a teacher and president of the Baptist Theological School at Tokyo notably advanced the Christian interest in Japan, earning the sobriquet of "missionary statesman." Into the legal profession the U. of R. sent Harlan W. Rippey," 1898, Judge on the New York Court of Appeals; John Knight, 1893, Federal District Judge; James A. Hamilton, 1898, New York State Senator and public official; Nelson E. Spencer, 1893, Monroe County Judge; John W. Castleman, 1889, another Monroe County Judge and very active in alumni affairs; and Edward R. Foreman, 1892, best known as the first city historian of Rochester and an energetic civic force.

Noteworthy in business circles were Elon Huntington Hooker, 1891, a nationally known leader in electrochemistry and deeply involved in New York State politics; Samuel M. Havens, 1899, Chicago industrialist; and Lewis H. Thornton, 1892, oil producer. These three men and Charles F. Hutchison, non-graduate 1898, Eastman Kodak executive, aided their Alma Mater in the capacity of trustees, Four of Hooker's brothers, it may be noted, attended the University: Albert H., non-graduate 1886, Harry M., 1894, Paul, 1899, and Horace W., 1901, and all five were associated in one capacity or another with the Hooker Electrochemical Company. Clinton W. Gilbert, 1891, achieved national reputation as a journalist and homespun philosopher, as did Roscoe C. E. Brown, 1889, of the New York Tribune and subsequently professor of journalism at Columbia University. As librarian of the municipal library of Washington, D.C., George F. Bowerman, 1892, rose to front rank in the profession.

Not readily classifiable is Charles M. Robinson, 1891, internationally known as a pioneer city planner, sponsor of the city beautiful movement, and professor of civic design at the University of Illinois, the first chair of its kind in the United States. (His classmate, Charles A. Thompson, pastor and medical man in Washington, D. C., is believed to be the first Negro ever graduated from the U. of R.) Burt L. Fenner, of the same class, withdrew from the college to train as an architect; he became a partner in the highly respected firm of McKim, Mead, and White of New York City, and helped to design many splendid structures, including the Eastman Theatre in Rochester.

Thomas T. Swinburne, non-graduate 1892, deserves particular comment as the author of the Alma Mater, "The Genesee," the poet-laureate of his University, of his Theta Delta Chi fraternity, and his home city and its legendary river. Like many another Rochesterian before and since, Swinburne fought manfully to stop the pollution of the Genesee and to preserve its natural beauty. In a mood of depression in 1926 this "erratic of the human species" leaped to his death in the river he loved so dearly. His ashes lie beneath a huge boulder of igneous rock, just above the Genesee, to the west of the River Campus plaza; a bronze tablet contains two stanzas of "The Genesee." This distinctive monument to Swinburne promises to keep watch and ward over U. of R. collegians for many generations to come. 16


Footnotes to Chapter 12


  1. Hill, op. cit., Chap. XXVIII. Robert B. Pattison, 1899, "Student Body as Faculty, " RAR, VI (1928), no. 3, 79-82.
  2. Interpres, XXXVII (1895), 201. Herbert S. Weet, 1899, "Looking Backward," RAR, XII (1950), no. 1, 15-17. Henry H. Barstow, 1893, "How Athletics Supplanted Assault and Battery," Ibid., IX (1931), no. 4, 111-112. R U&A, December 4, 1893, April 2, 3, 10, 1897. Memorabilia, Class of 1906, Rhees Library Archives. Fred M. Robinson, 1901, "Mr. Phinney's Bicycle and the Old Flag Pole," RAR, VI (1928), no. 4, 109. Ibid., RAR, XX (1942), no. 3, 10.
  3. Morris, op. cit., 9-13. R D&C, June 10, 1930. Campus, XVI, June 21, 1890. Ibid., XVIII, March 9, 1892, 145. R U&A, September 26, 1891.
  4. Campus, XVII February 2, 1891. Ibid., May 1, 1891. Ibid., XVIII, October 13, 1891. Ibid., XXI, December 14, 1894. Ibid., LIII, October 14, 1927. Interpres, XXXIV (1892). Some Songs We Sing at Rochester (1904), p. 74.
  5. Campus, passim, 1889-1900. Ibid., LVII, March 25, 1932. Interpres, XXXIII (1891), photographs of the houses. Morris, "Alpha Delta Phi," 28-36.
  6. Memorabilia, 1890. Rhees Library Archives. Campus, XVI, February 14, 1890. Ibid., XIX, January 11, 1893. Ibid. XX, October 12, 1894.
  7. Herbert W. Bramley, 1890, "Birth of Football at Rochester," RAR, IV (1925), no. 1, 11. Ibid., "1889 Varsity...," Ibid., XVIII (1939), no. 1, 12. Ibid., IX (1930), no. 1,19. Elbert Angevine, The Story of Football in Rochester (1949), pp. 7-13. Campus, XVII, November 15, December 1, 1890. Ibid., XXII, December 6, 1895. Ibid., XVIII, December 2, 1897, January 1, 1898. Faculty Minutes, September 15, October 14, 1896. Galpin, op. cit. , II, 253.
  8. Campus, XVI, June 2, 1890. Ibid., XVII, April 1, 1891. Ibid., XVIII, February 17, 1892, Ibid., XIX, January 11, 1893, Ibid., XXIV, February 22, 1899.
  9. W. C. Morey, "The University and Athletics," Campus, XXIV, October 26,1898. Ibid., November 9, 1898. Annual Report of University Council, May, 1900. Rhees Library Archives. Donald B. Gilchrist, History of the University Council and the Board of Control, 1898-1925 (1933). Ibid. Robert F. Metzdorf, 1933, "The History of the Board of Control with special references to its effect on the Campus," The Soap Box, I (1933), no. 3, 7-8. RAR, XVII (1939), no. 2, 21. Memorabilia, 1894-1895. Rhees Library Archives.
  10. Interpres, XXXV (1893), 103-105. Ibid., XXXVI (1894), 146. R D&C, March 26, April 27, May 24, 1898.
  11. Campus, XXXI, May 23, 1906.
  12. RAR, XX (1941-42), no. 2,21. Ibid., no. 3, 9. Ibid., no. 4, 15. Trustee Records, II, 275, 397. Two honorary degrees of master of philosophy were conferred in 1897-1898, but never repeated. RAR, XXIII (1945), no. 4, 11. R U&A, June 16, 1892. Campus, XIX, May 17, 24, June 21, 1893.
  13. Faculty Minutes, March 6, 1899. R D&C, June 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 1900. The principal speeches of the jubilee anniversary were published as Addresses at the Semi-Centennial Anniversary of the Founding of the University of Rochester (Rochester, 1901).
  14. General Catalogue, Twenty-five years after graduation, the surviving members of the class of 1889 were distributed as follows: nine each in teaching and business, six attorneys, two ministers, and one each in medicine, journalism, and government service. For the decade of the 'nineties, the number of graduates almost exactly equalled that of the 'seventies--308, but the tide of secularization in vocations turned more pronounced, for teachers, lawyers, businessmen, in that order, surpassed ministers. On the other hand, of the 1,329 men listed as graduate from 1871 to 1900, clergymen held a clear lead with lawyers, businessmen, and teachers following, each of these vocations attracting around 250. Bulletin of United States Education, 1912, no. 19, 212.
  15. RAR, XV (1936-1937), no. 2, 5. Alumni Minute Book, 1893, 1894, 1895, 1896. Trustee Records, II, 322, 353, 372, 379, 380, 407.
  16. Anon., "Rochester's Ideal Schoolmaster," RAR, I (1923), no. 4, 81-82. Garret Smith, 1903, "Gilbert, the Unexpected," Ibid., no. 1, 5-7. Herman L. Fairchild, "Personality of the Swinburne Boulder," Ibid., XII (1933), no. 1, 7-8. John R. Slater, "Tom Swinburne, 1892, Poet-Philosopher of the-Genesee," Ibid., XIII (1951), no. 1, 9-10. Ibid., XIX (1941), no. 5, 13. R D&C, December 17, 1927. DAB, XXII (Supplement 2) (1956), 313-314 (Hooker); Ibid., XVI (1935), 36 (Robinson); Ibid., VI (1931), 323 (Fenner).
Chapter 12: Collegians and Graduates in the 'Nineties