News
Garber Announces Advisory Committee for Harvard Law School Dean Search
News
First Harvard Prize Book in Kosovo Established by Harvard Alumni
News
Ryan Murdock ’25 Remembered as Dedicated Advocate and Caring Friend
News
Harvard Faculty Appeal Temporary Suspensions From Widener Library
News
Man Who Managed Clients for High-End Cambridge Brothel Network Pleads Guilty
When Princeton historians shuffle their musty records in search of a proud tradition they will uncover one basic fact -- Princeton University owes its very existence to the munificence of a shady Harvard graduate. The charitable efforts of this disreputable man made Old Nassau a reality, without them the New Jersey College would have fizzled out in the eighteenth century.
Tiger alumni sometimes trace their alma mater to the charter granted the Presbyterian "New Jersey College of New Jersey" in 1746. But in fact, this charter was never recorded and its validity is doubtful because it was issued by only an acting governor without permission of either the home government or the provincial legislature. Orthodox Anglicans seized this issue of legality and were pressing for annulment of the charter when Harvardman Jonathon Belcher, Class of 1699, stepped in to save the embryo college from extinction.
What sort of man was this Jonathan Belcher, and what prompted him to refound the College of New Jersey? History shows that his character and motives were never open to question.
The Primrose Path
Jonathon Belcher ranked second in his class at Harvard but fell into evil ways after graduation. He tried his hand at business but was publicly caned for exporting scarce grain; so he turned to politics. The most notable play of his early political career came in 1716. In this year the choice for governor of Massachusetts fell between two men--Shute and Burgess. By bribing Burgess $1000 to leave the race, Belcher won the commission for his friend Shute and gained a certain notoriety for himself in the bargain. Shute, in turn, grew tired of office quickly and finagled the honor for Belcher. So Jonathon Belcher, future saviour of Princeton, became Governor of Massachusetts in 1729. His reign was highlighted by an attempt to shake down the Massachusetts General Court for a higher salary by invoking the wrath of the King. This maneuver multiplied his enemies and they ousted Belcher from office in 1741.
All this weakened Jonathon Belcher's influence considerably, and subsequent string-pulling only netted him the post of Governor of New Jersey. His arrival in the Garden State was a gala event in 1747, but he demonstrated the powers of perception gained at Harvard by describing the citizens of New Jersey -- "the greatest part of them in a Wretched State of Ignorance, Unpolisht and of bad manners." Disillusioned, he named his estate "World's End," then decided to establish a respectable college.
In conjunction with another Harvardman, Ebenezer Pemberton '21, Governor Belcher secured a legal and liberal charter for the College of New Jersy and chose Princeton as the site. Beyond this, Belcher used his influence in England to get funds for the struggling institution and tried to attract the sons of prominent Massachusetts families as students. In humble gratitude the Princeton trustees wanted to name their first building "Belcher Hall," but the governor declined and suggested the name "Nassau Hall."
A later board of Princeton trustees referred to Belcher as "the Founder patron, and benefactor of the college" but the good Governor may have doubted the value of his project when he was stricken with palsy at the Princeton Commencement of 1750. He died soon afterward, but not before leaving strict orders that he be buried in Cambridge and that his two sons be sent to Harvard.
And so the New Jersy College rolled on through the nineteenth century on the momentum of Governor Belcher's work. It also adopted the name Princeton and developed intense college spirit due to its isolated location.
The effect of this isolation was shown by a poll of the senior class in 1916 - forty-three seniors had never kissed a girl. Princeton spirit manifested itself in other ways too -- in a rally before the 1922 football game with Harvard, wily Tigers stole a farmer's outhouse, painted it Crimson, and cremated it in a public bonfire!
Lampy Splits Pair
It was in 1926 that the first serious rift developed between Harvard and its protege Princeton. Often referred to as "the outburst of '26" it resulted from the H-P football game that year when Princeton students absconded with six policeman's hats and the Harvard Lampoon distributed an exceptionally tasteless issue. Our Alumni Bulletin found it impossible to understand how even the immature Poonmen could have been guilty of such bad taste and vulgarity. President Lowell's letter to Princeton's President Hibben made the only possible apology -- that the Lampoon's lack of sense of humor is apt to be replaced by grossness. But the gash torn by the blundering Poon was too deep to heal quickly, and on November 10th, 1926, Princeton suspended athletic relations with Harvard. To make matters worse, an article called "Dirty Football" appeared in a national magazine soon afterwards. This article attempted to prove that Princeton had been playing dirty football for years. Any connection between its author and the Lampoon remains obscure.
Lovers Reunited
But brotherly love soon prevailed and Princeton resumed athletic contests with Harvard in 1934, and by 1937 the two teams were going off the field arm in arm. Princeton fans allowed their goal posts to be torn down without offering resistance. Yet despite this acceptance of their relationship, the Tigers still retain a certain unique character even today. Demonstrations of this character took place in 1949 when Princetonians overflowed their Whig Hall to hear their debating team argue that Women Should Choose Death Before Dishonor. Again, just last year, Princetonians revived their colonial history by bombarding West Point with leaflets inviting the cadets to an Indian Massacre. Princetonians have even devised a method for numbering their graduates in those unknown regions west of the Mississippi; they take a state's population in millions, divide by the distance from Princeton, multiply the results by 36,500, and-that gives them the number of fellow Tigers in the state. This may show that Princetonians are a proud clan -- but today they pay their respects to the college of their founder
Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter.