Overheard in Witherspoon: "Yo, where my man servant at?"
Wouldn’t it be nice, especially during exams, if someone would just take care of life’s little things? Apparently, Princetonians of yore had just that: private servants.
The Princeton Alumni Weekly recently posted on its blog a University tuition bill from 1910 (you can see it here), and one of the expense lines reads “Private Servant”–though it appears the person to whom the bill belonged did not have a personal Jeeves.
And where did these servants reside? In the dorms! Ever wonder why Witherspoon Hall is so goddamn nice? According to a history of Princeton’s campus, the school began to draw wealthier students after the Civil War, and the existing dorms just wouldn’t do for them:
The spartan facilities of many of the college’s dormitories were simply unpalatable to this new type of undergraduate. With amenities such as waterclosets on every floor, dumbwaiters, and special corridors and rooms for servants, Witherspoon was tailored to meet the needs of these wealthy students.
Built in 1877, Witherspoon was called “the most beautiful and luxurious college dormitory in the country.” Because Princeton charged varying rents for different dorms, it soon faced a problem of another sort: where would it put students who weren’t rich?
Just two years later, the University built another dorm to solve this problem–a building with the most spartan accommodations. Ever wonder why Edwards Hall is so goddamn drab? Indeed, Edwards was considered “the poor man’s dormitory.” The Prince back then had a less-than-flattering opinion of Edwards:
…Naturally dark and dirty, the Hall is made the object on many contemelious [sic] remarks, and the general opinion is that it takes courage backed up by more or less impecunious circumstances to spend a year or more in those dark and dusty entries.
Of course, both Edwards and Witherspoon have subsequently been renovated–Witherspoon lost its servants’ quarters and Edwards lost its poverty-chic status. But despite what the University tells us, it’s clear not all Princeton dorms are equal–at least they weren’t back in the 19th century.
(image source: http://etcweb.princeton.edu/Campus/)
I count more than forty books stacked every which way (some opened), plus a candy wrapper, an empty cup of Small World coffee, an empty Snapple jar, lots of loose sheets of paper, a tube of lotion hidden behind the computer (not visible in this picture), plus a very, very dirty computer screen (see all the fingerprints?).
