COLLEGE DAYS
Longfellow went to college when he was very young, indeed only fourteen
years old. In those days the requirements for entering college were not
so severe as they are now; yet they were by no means easy, and only a
bright scholar could pass the examinations. Longfellow was one of the
bright boys. He stood second in his class. He had an elder brother,
Stephen, who entered college at that same time.
His father and grandfather were graduates of Harvard College; but as his
father was then a trustee of Bowdoin College, at Brunswick, Maine, he
was sent there. It happened that in the class which he entered there
were several other youths who became very famous men. One was Hawthorne,
the greatest American novelist; and in the class just above was Franklin
Pierce, who afterwards became President of the United States. Not quite
so famous as these two was another classmate of Longfellow’s, John S. C.
Abbott, whose histories for young people have been only less popular than
the “Rollo Books” written by his brother, Jacob Abbott, a somewhat older
man.
In those days no one suspected that there were in that college men
destined to become so great. Longfellow was merely an aristocratic young
man who stood well in his classes and “wrote verses as a pastime.” The
poet of the class was a young man named Mellen. Hawthorne was very
shy and never learned his lessons. He studied in his own way, and his
professors had a very good opinion of him, but he was not a good scholar.
There were in college two different kinds of students, the country boys
and the city fellows. The country boys were usually rough, brown, and not
very well dressed. They would lumber along the streets like farmers, as
they were. It may easily be imagined that they were not rich. The lads
from the seaports, on the other hand, the city fellows, had white hands
and faces, were fashionably dressed, and were usually considered rich.
Longfellow was a city lad, and had plenty of money. Hawthorne was more of
a country fellow. While in college the two were not intimate. Both were
naturally modest and shy, and each had only a few friends with whom he
associated. But some years after they left college, Hawthorne sent his
first volume of stories, the “Twice-told Tales,” to Longfellow, then a
professor at Harvard College, and Longfellow wrote a very kind article
about it, which was published in the _North American Review_. It was the
first worthy recognition Hawthorne had received, and he was very grateful
to Longfellow. This made them warm friends, and such they remained for
the rest of their lives.
During his first year Longfellow did most of his studying at home. He was
doubtless a little homesick at Brunswick, at first. That town is not very
far from Portland, but it took some time to get there, for in those days
there were no railroads. The two Longfellow boys went up the coast in a
sailing boat to a town not far from Brunswick, and from there they went
by stage.
While in college young Henry had no great adventures. He was a well
behaved young man, never hazed anybody, and was generally thought rather
a good fellow, but not remarkable in any way. He wrote a good deal of
poetry, which was printed in the _United States Literary Gazette_,
without his name; but his cousin John Owen, then at college with him,
told him to his face one day that poetry was not his forte.
One other thing remains to be said of his college life. Though rich, he
was generous toward his poorer classmates, and at the same time very
modest and quiet about it. Here is one case, and there are a good many
others.
There was a student who had worked hard to finish his college course; but
one day he received word that owing to the death of his father he would
have to leave college and earn his own living; the family could spare him
no more money to help him through. This was sad news to him, for he had
great ambitions and hopes concerning his future career.
A friend of his, belonging to the class below Longfellow’s, went to the
poet and asked him if he would not head a subscription, or do something
of the kind. At this time the poet had been contributing pretty regularly
to the _United States Literary Gazette_, and had never received any pay
for it. Many of the poems had been copied in the daily and weekly papers.
He wrote a note to the editor saying that he thought he deserved in
the future to be paid for his contributions. His intention was to give
the money to his college mate. But the editor replied that poems were
generally printed gratis, and made some vague promises.
This was a disappointment; but the classmate who tells the story,
Longfellow, and his brother Stephen drew up a subscription paper, put
down such sums as they could afford, and passed the document about among
the college men. Enough money was raised to carry the poor fellow through
his college course.
“For some reason or other,” says his cousin John Owen, “the poet never
liked to speak of this act of his earlier career. He and I have talked
about it, to be sure; but one day he suggested that the subject be
forever dropped. It was one of his peculiar habits—always to be doing
some one a favor, and to wish that it be kept a profound secret.”