September 29, 2011
The overnight adornment of the campus in buff and blue this past weekend might make it hard to believe that pink used to be the College’s colors, but such was the case until 1892. As it turns out, the history of Hamilton College is rife with surprising—and often quite humorous—facts and anecdotes. Publius Virgilius Rogers Professor of American History Maurice Isserman has spent the last several years delving into the College archives while conducting research for his recently released book On the Hill: A Bicentennial History of Hamilton College.
Isserman’s bicentennial weekend presentation, “Bicentennial History of the College,” provided an intriguing overview of the academic, social and political past of the school. Hamilton College was initially founded as the Hamilton-Oneida Academy in 1793 as the culmination of Samuel Kirkland’s missionary endeavors with the Oneida Indians. Kirkland spent his third year at the College of New Jersey (later Princeton University) living with the Indians for what Isserman jests may be the “first junior year abroad” in the history of American higher education. Kirkland settled in Clinton, NY after the American Revolution and quickly drafted a plan for an educational institute that would serve both white Americans and Oneida Indians. He presented this plan to George Washington and Alexander Hamilton, the latter of whom donated both his funds and his name to the institution. However, the academy was not appealing to many Oneida, and in time the name was changed to Hamilton College.
In the 19th Century, students at Hamilton were middle class men, many of whom planned to follow in their fathers’ footsteps and become ministers. The classical curriculum focused on Greek and Latin, biblical studies, and a smattering of arithmetic and chemistry. This education would give rise to notable leaders such as Garritt Smith, Class of 1818, William Bacon, Class of 1863 and Elihu Root, Class of 1864. The advent of the Civil War inspired many students to leave the school and join the Union army. Each class of about 30 graduates lost about five or six young men, and this had a significant impact on the campus, for the student body has always played a strong role in shaping the College, according to Isserman.
Student autonomy was embodied by the introduction of fraternities, which were “virtually invented at Hamilton,” said Isserman, with the exception of a few brotherhoods that originated at nearby Union College.
Class loyalty was also a defining character of early Hamilton students, and escalations to class warfare were not uncommon. In fact, some battles were even considered tradition, and hardly denounced by the faculty and administration.
“Chapel rows” also pitted the first-years against the sophomores. The latter would unexpectedly block the doors to the chapel after services ended, and first-years would have to fight their way out.
“Bolts” were less about class warfare and more about solidarity. These were student strikes that typically conveyed disdain for the actions of a faculty member or administrator. The Class of 1884 immortalized its month-long bolt, in which the students actually left campus for several weeks, by having a hardware bolt depicted on its class marker located in the College cemetery.
Such antics gradually subsided as the advent of collegiate athletics provided a new outlet for the restless students’ energy. President Stryker’s dramatic remodeling and construction campaigns created a greater sense of comfort and respect for campus grounds, and bolts became unnecessary when President Cowley introduced faculty evaluations. Following World War II, older veterans took advantage of the G.I. Bill and flocked to Hamilton to receive a higher education; many were older than the typical college student and had families in tow, with no time for traditions such as Chapel rows.
Still, these students caused quite an uproar themselves as they argued against compulsory chapel and wearing freshman beanies and for educational opportunities for their wives.
Hamilton students’ convictions and tendencies toward radical actions did not disappear in the post-War era. Forty students showed their support for the Civil Rights movement when they picketed a Woolworth’s on Genessee St. in 1960, and Bob Moses ’56 gained national fame as the organizer of the Student Non-Violence Committee.
In 1964, the College received a $1 million grant from the Ford Foundation for “long-range planning,” which ultimately turned into a conversation about the “cluster plan.” These clusters of education could include business, engineering or even a school for women. The last option was particularly relevant considering that one year earlier, President McEwen had assisted with plans to found Kirkland College across the street from Hamilton.
The women of Kirkland were considerably different from the men at Hamilton; as many as 60 percent may have been Jewish, and according to Isserman, when asked what rules and traditions they wanted to institute, the students responded, “We want no social rules.” Soon after, the student senate at Hamilton also voted against social rules.
Recent decades have seen even more change. In 1978, Hamilton College became co-educational when it merged with Kirkland College. In 1995, the historical fraternities—and sororities—lost their campus housing. In 2000, the faculty accepted an open curriculum, a move which would have been unimaginable to the first generations of Hamilton faculty and championed by the first generations of Hamilton students.
One thing has remained constant in the last 200 years: Hamilton as an institution has always been characterized by its students. Thus, Hamilton will always be changing. In another 200 years, Hamilton will be a reflection of the thousands of new students who inhabit the Hill.