6 July 1692, Wednesday
Father and I attended Commencement Day at Harvard College. Tis the closest Massachusetts has to a holiday. Graduates, faculty, family of the graduates, and other notables, including officials and alumnus, crowded into the Meeting House in Cambridge. From the tittering and unsteady hops from the men twas apparent that the day’s gifts of wine had already been consumed, one gallon per student whilst graduates earned three gallons for their troubles. The effects of the tickling liquid were already on display, and the air ringed with tumultuous shouts, some from the graduates, some from the onlookers, and some from the hucksters come to line their pockets. Proud fathers’ eyes brimmed wet with their sons’ accomplishments, their young men soon to be ministers, lawyers, tea
