N.
NAVY CLUB. The Navy Club, or the Navy, as it was formerly called, originated among the students of Harvard College about the year 1796, but did not reach its full perfection until several years after. What the primary design of the association was is not known, nor can the causes be ascertained which led to its formation. At a later period its object seems to have been to imitate, as far as possible, the customs and discipline peculiar to the flag-ship of a navy, and to afford some consolation to those who received no appointments at Commencement, as such were always chosen its officers. The Lord High Admiral was appointed by the admiral of the preceding class, but his election was not known to any of the members of his class until within six weeks of Commencement, when the parts for that occasion were assigned. It was generally understood that this officer was to be one of the poorest in point of scholarship, yet the jolliest of all the “Jolly Blades.” At the time designated, he broke the seal of a package which had been given him by his predecessor in office, the contents of which were known only to himself; but these were supposed to be the insignia of his office, and the instructions pertaining to the admiralty. He then appointed his assistant officers, a vice-admiral, rear-admiral, captain, sailing-master, boatswain, &c. To the boatswain a whistle was given, transmitted, like the admiral’s package, from class to class.
The Flag-ship for the year 1815 was a large marquee, called “The Good Ship Harvard,” which was moored in the woods, near the place where the residence of the Hon. John G. Palfrey now stands. The floor was arranged like the deck of a man-of-war, being divided into the main and quarter decks. The latter was occupied by the admiral, and no one was allowed to be there with him without special order or permission. In his sway he was very despotic, and on board ship might often have been seen reclining on his couch, attended by two of his subordinates (classmates), who made his slumbers pleasant by guarding his sacred person from the visits of any stray mosquito, and kept him cool by the vibrations of a fan. The marquee stood for several weeks, during which time meetings were frequently held in it. At the command of the admiral, the boatswain would sound his whistle in front of Holworthy Hall, the building where the Seniors then, as now, resided, and the student sailors, issuing forth, would form in procession, and march to the place of meeting, there to await further orders. If the members of the Navy remained on board ship over night, those who had received appointments at Commencement, then called the “Marines,” were obliged to keep guard while the members slept or caroused.
The operations of the Navy were usually closed with an excursion down the harbor. A vessel well stocked with certain kinds of provisions afforded, with some assistance from the stores of old Ocean, the requisites for a grand clam-bake or a mammoth chowder. The spot usually selected for this entertainment was the shores of Cape Cod. On the third day the party usually returned from their voyage, and their entry into Cambridge was generally accompanied with no little noise and disorder. The Admiral then appointed privately his successor, and the Navy was disbanded for the year.
The exercises of the association varied from year to year. Many of the old customs gradually went out of fashion, until finally but little of the original Navy remained. The officers were, as usual, appointed yearly, but the power of appointing them was transferred to the class, and a public parade was substituted for the forms and ceremonies once peculiar to the society. The excursion down the harbor was omitted for the first time the present year,57 and the last procession made its appearance in the year 1846.
At present the Navy Club is organized after the parts for the last Senior Exhibition have been assigned. It is composed of three classes of persons; namely, the true NAVY, which consists of those who have never had parts; the MARINES, those who have had a major or second part in the Senior year, but no minor or first part in the Junior; and the HORSE-MARINES, those who have had a minor or first part in the Junior year, but have subsequently fallen off, so as not to get a major or second part in the Senior. Of the Navy officers, the Lord High Admiral is usually he who has been sent from College the greatest number of times; the Vice-Admiral is the poorest scholar in the class; the Rear-Admiral the laziest fellow in the class; the Commodore, one addicted to boating; the Captain, a jolly blade; the Lieutenant and Midshipman, fellows of the same description; the Chaplain, the most profane; the Surgeon, a dabbler in surgery, or in medicine, or anything else; the Ensign, the tallest member of the class; the Boatswain, one most inclined to obscenity; the Drum Major, the most aristocratic, and his assistants, fellows of the same character. These constitute the Band. Such are the general rules of choice, but they are not always followed. The remainder of the class who have had no parts and are not officers of the Navy Club are members, under the name of Privates. On the morning when the parts for Commencement are assigned, the members who receive appointments resign the stations which they have held in the Navy Club. This resignation takes place immediately after the parts have been read to the class. The door-way of the middle entry of Holworthy Hall is the place usually chosen for this affecting scene. The performance is carried on in the mock-oratorical style, a person concealed under a white sheet being placed behind the speaker to make the gestures for him. The names of those members who, having received Commencement appointments, have refused to resign their trusts in the Navy Club, are then read by the Lord High Admiral, and by his authority they are expelled from the society. This closes the exercises of the Club.
The following entertaining account of the last procession, in 1846, has been furnished by a graduate of that year:—
“The class had nearly all assembled, and the procession, which extended through the rooms of the Natural History Society, began to move. The principal officers, as also the whole band, were dressed in full uniform. The Rear-Admiral brought up the rear, as was fitting. He was borne in a sort of triumphal car, composed of something like a couch, elevated upon wheels, and drawn by a white horse. On this his excellency, dressed in uniform, and enveloped in his cloak, reclined at full length. One of the Marines played the part of driver. Behind the car walked a colored man, with a most fantastic head-dress, whose duty it was to carry his Honor the Rear-Admiral’s pipe. Immediately before the car walked the other two Marines, with guns on their shoulders. The ‘Digs’58 came immediately before the Marines, preceded by the tallest of their number, carrying a white satin banner, bearing on it, in gold letters, the word ‘HARVARD,’ with a spade of gold paper fastened beneath. The Digs were all dressed in black, with Oxford caps on their heads, and small iron spades over their shoulders. They walked two and two, except in one instance, namely, that of the first three scholars, who walked together, the last of their brethren, immediately preceding the Marines. The second and third scholars did not carry spades, but pointed shovels, much larger and heavier; while the first scholar, who walked between the other two, carried an enormously great square shovel,—such as is often seen hung out at hardware-stores for a sign,—with ‘SPADES AND SHOVELS,’ or some such thing, painted on one side, and ‘ALL SIZES’ on the other. This shovel was about two feet square. The idea of carrying real, bonâ fide spades and shovels originated wholly in our class. It has always been the custom before to wear a spade, cut out of white paper, on the lapel of the coat. The Navy Privates were dressed in blue shirts, monkey-jackets, &c., and presented a very sailor-like appearance. Two of them carried small kedges over their shoulders. The Ensign bore an old and tattered flag, the same which was originally presented by Miss Mellen of Cambridge to the Harvard Washington Corps. The Chaplain was dressed in a black gown, with an old-fashioned curly white wig on his head, which, with a powdered face, gave him a very sanctimonious look. He carried a large French Bible, which by much use had lost its covers. The Surgeon rode a beast which might well have been taken for the Rosinante of the world-renowned Don Quixote. This worthy Æsculapius had an infinite number of brown-paper bags attached to his person. He was enveloped in an old plaid cloak, with a huge sign for pills fastened upon his shoulders, and carried before him a skull on a staff. His nag was very spirited, so much so as to leap over the chains, posts, &c., and put to flight the crowd assembled to see the fun. The procession, after having cheered all the College buildings, and the houses of the Professors, separated about seven o’clock, P.M.”
At first like a badger the Freshman dug,
Fed on Latin and Greek, in his room kept snug;
And he fondly hoped that on Navy Club day
The highest spade he might bear away.
MS. Poem, F.E. Felton, Harv. Coll.
NECK. To run one’s neck, at Williams College, to trust to luck for the success of any undertaking.
NESCIO. Latin; literally, I do not know. At the University of Cambridge, England, to sport a nescio, to shake the head, a signal that one does not understand or is ignorant of the subject. “After the Senate-House examination for degrees,” says Grose, in his Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, “the students proceed to the schools, to be questioned by the proctor. According to custom immemorial, the answers must be Nescio. The following is a translated specimen:—
“Ques. What is your, name? Ans. I do not know.
“Ques. What is the name of this University? Ans. I do not know.
“Ques. Who was your father? Ans. I do not know.
“The last is probably the only true answer of the three!”
NEWLING. In the German universities, a Freshman; one in his first half-year.
NEWY. At Princeton College, a fresh arrival.
NIGHTGOWN. A dressing-gown; a deshabille.
No student shall appear within the limits of the College, or town of Cambridge, in any other dress than in the uniform belonging to his respective class, unless he shall have on a nightgown, or such an outside garment as may be necessary over a coat.—Laws Harv. Coll., 1790.
NOBLEMAN. In the English universities, among the Undergraduates, the nobleman enjoys privileges and exemptions not accorded to others. At Oxford he wears a black-silk gown with full sleeves “couped” at the elbows, and a velvet cap with gold tassel, except on full-dress occasions, when his habit is of violet-figured damask silk, richly bedight with gold lace. At Cambridge he wears the plain black-silk gown and the hat of an M.A., except on feast days and state occasions, when he appears in a gown still more gorgeous than that of a Fellow-Commoner.—Oxford Guide. Bristed.
NO END OF. Bristed records this phrase as an intensive peculiar to the English Cantabs. Its import is obvious “They have no end of tin; i.e. a great deal of money. He is no end of a fool; i.e. the greatest fool possible.”—Five Years in an Eng. Univ., Ed. 2d, p. 24.
The use of this expression, with a similar signification, is common in some portions of the United States.
NON ENS. Latin; literally not being. At the University of Cambridge, Eng., one who has not been matriculated, though he has resided some time at the University; consequently is not considered as having any being. A Freshman in embryo.—Grad. ad Cantab.
NON PARAVI. Latin; literally, I have not prepared. When Latin was spoken in the American colleges, this excuse was commonly given by scholars not prepared for recitation.
With sleepy eyes and countenance heavy,
With much excuse of non paravi.
Trumbull’s Progress of Dullness, 1794, p. 8.
The same excuse is now frequently given in English.
The same individuals were also observed to be “not prepared” for the morning’s recitation.—Harvardiana, Vol. II. p. 261.
I hear you whispering, with white lips, “Not prepared, sir.”—Burial of Euclid, 1850, p. 9.
NON PLACET. Latin; literally, It is not pleasing. In the University of Cambridge, Eng., the term in which a negative vote is given in the Senate-House.
To non-placet, with the meaning of the verb to reject, is sometimes used in familiar language.
A classical examiner, having marked two candidates belonging to his own College much higher than the other three examiners did, was suspected of partiality to them, and non-placeted (rejected) next year when he came up for approval.—Bristed’s Five Years in an Eng. Univ., Ed. 2d, p. 231.
NON-READING MAN. See READING MAN.
The result of the May decides whether he will go out in honors or not,—that is, whether he will be a reading or a non-reading man.—Bristed’s Five Years in an Eng. Univ., Ed. 2d, p. 85.
NON-REGENT. In the English universities, a term applied to those Masters of Arts whose regency has ceased.—Webster.
See REGENT. SENATE.
NON-TERM. “When any member of the Senate,” says the Gradus ad Cantabrigiam, “dies within the University during term, on application to the Vice-Chancellor, the University bell rings an hour; from which period Non-Term, as to public lectures and disputations, commences for three days.”
NON VALUI. Latin; literally, I was sick. At Harvard College, when the students were obliged to speak Latin, it was usual for them to give the excuse non valui for almost every absence or omission. The President called upon delinquents for their excuses in the chapel, after morning prayers, and these words were often pronounced so broadly as to sound like non volui, I did not wish [to go]. The quibble was not perceived for a long time, and was heartily enjoyed, as may be well supposed, by those who made use of it.
[Greek: Nous]. Greek; sense. A word adopted by, and in use among, students.
He is a lad of more [Greek: nous], and keeps better company.—Pref. to Grad. ad Cantab.
Getting the better of them in anything which required the smallest exertion of [Greek: nous], was like being first in a donkey-race. —Bristed’s Five Years in an Eng. Univ., Ed. 2d, p. 30.
NUMBER FIFTY, NUMBER FORTY-NINE. At Trinity College, Hartford, the privies are known by these names. Jarvis Hall contains forty-eight rooms, and the numbers forty-nine and fifty follow in numerical continuation, but with a different application.
NUMBER TEN. At the Wesleyan University, the names “No. 10, and, as a sort of derivative, No. 1001, are applied to the privy.” The former title is used also at the University of Vermont, and at Dartmouth College.
NUTS. A correspondent from Williams College says, “We speak of a person whom we despise as being a nuts.” This word is used in the Yorkshire dialect with the meaning of a “silly fellow.” Mr. Halliwell, in his Dictionary of Archaic and Provincial Words, remarks: “It is not applied to an idiot, but to one who has been doing a foolish action.”