Sunday, February 21, 2016

Harvard College Fraternity Hazing; Harold T Chase 1884

Biography of Harold Taylor Chase (See January 2016 blog post)

(Please note the 9 hand-drawn illustrations on the margins )


The Neophyte of P. H.  (handwritten by Harold T Chase in 1884)

Neophyte is a Greek word from ve’os, mew and phi u’ w,  to bring forth;  whence it has the secondary meaning of a new convert.  Certain it is that a Neophyte of the P. H. Society of Harvard wishes he was planted under the earth or that he was born in some other world.
That he is an abject slave is beyond all doubt.  Impossibilities are supposed to be within his power.  
At the night of initiation he meets about fifty men whom he has never seen before, but the next day he is expected to raise his hat to each member under penalty of black marks.  He is expected to write seven rules in about half a minute, writing on the back of another neophyte, while at the the same time he must turn from one back to another every few seconds.  He will then probably be requested to sing the rule he hasn’t got.  If unable to do so, he gets one or more black marks.
During the time of initiation a smile must never flit across his face.  He generally has to deliver papers or carry water early in the morning.
By the way, I almost forgot to say that when a neophyte makes a joke, another neophyte must crook his finger, so that the members may know where the point is.  I can not begin to tell of the agony of the first night.  

The next day, the neophytes were taken in town.  Each of us had to wear shavings in the button-hole of his coat for a bouquet.  When we entered a car, there were already several pretty young ladies in it.  My mentor observing that the conductor was somewhat hoarse, requested me to call out the streets for him, which I did.  Another neophyte gave an orange and a tooth-pick to each passenger.  All were required during the while to take notes on everything which passed under our notice.  It was a beautiful, sunny day, therefore each neophyte had to carry a full-spread umbrella over his head.  I carried besides a field glass, while others carried carpet-bags, clubs, etc.  Being somewhat thirsty the chief mentor invited us to take a glass of soda-lemonade (with a stick in it).  It was brought  -- it had a strawberry in it and a piece of orange peel.   I sucked it coyly through a straw.  I am very fond of water.  I was required to make an astronomical observation in Boston Common in the presence of several hundred people.  Then, we separated, each mentor going with his particular neophyte.  I do not know that happened to my fellow neophytes.  I went up to a chiropodist sign-man and told him I suffered very much from corns;  he told me to wrap them up in my handkerchief with camphor, and put them in my jacket.  I then gave away some oranged to little Irish boys and I went up to a newsboy, and I said I would give him an orange for a paper.  I walked up and down Washington St. crying out Record ! Record !  I finally succeeded in selling it.  I went into a hair store and priced a model, but they would not sell it;  I also got measured for a wig, but I doubt if I shall call for it.  There are a few of the thousand things I had to do that afternoon.  

Don’t think this is all the initiation, oh no.  I have two days and two nights yet before me, and they say it gets worse.  If you, who shall receive this, are so far philanthropic as to feel pity for a being to whom you are utterly unknown, pray for me.  I get that I may survive this ordeal, and see my friends and relatives again a free man.  Never till now did I feel so fully the pathos of saying, “I want to go home.”

My Mentor tells me that in saying I do not thoroughly enjoy my initiation, I labor under a delusion.  The fact is I never was so utterly happy in my short but interesting life.  I knew this to be true for (as my mentor says, being a neophyte I naturally know everything;  but my excuse is that I am not conscious of all that I know.  So, please understand that I am very, very happy.  I make you a graceful salaam, before relapsing into my customary awkwardness.









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