Built too late for Revolutionary associations, Holworthy Hall has a history of professors and poultry, of royalty and college pranks. Some of the building's history would, in fact, probably not please Sir Matthew Holworthy, who in 1681 left $1000 of his fortune for the "promotion of learning and the promulgation of the Gospel."

Sir Matthew's money was not used to construct the building which bears his name, however. A public lottery ordered by the General Court of Massachusetts served that purpose. Such petty gambling was very much in vogue in the 1800's, and the Holworthy lottery was so popular that all tickets were sold weeks in advance of the drawing. The public produced the impressive sum of $29,000 for their chances; slightly over $24,000 found its way into the construction of Holworthy.

Although the War of 1812 slowed down the building process, in the spring of that year President Kirkland made an "apt and graceful" dedication speech in which he referred to the "elegant simplicity and pleasing appearance of the commodious and ornamental edifice." Despite his praise for the building, the President was by no means so pleased with its name. He complained that "Holworthy had two aspirates between the 'I' and the 'th' which twist and squeeze the organs not a little." Apparently, no one else had such extraordinary difficulties with the word; at least, no better name was suggested, and the issue was soon forgotten.

Because of its southerly exposure and spacious floor plan, the dormitory almost at once became the most desirable of college residences. Seniors occupied Holworty exclusively for the next fifty years, and in 1873 there were 500 applications for the seven available rooms. The vacancies were filled by lot, and one instance is recorded of a student selling his Holworthy priority for a $150 bonus. But such immense popularity was not destined to last; by 1900, private baths, electric lights, and other luxuries had drawn wealthy students to the private Gold Coast houses on Mt. Auburn Street. Holworthy became "just another dormitory."

Before the migration south of the Yard, however, Holworthy was the "showplace" of the college. When the Prince of Wales visited Harvard in 1860 and desired to see a student's room, he was escorted to Holworthy 12. Although in 1871 Grand Duke Alexis expressed no desire to look at rooms, he was nevertheless shown the same suite.

While royalty lent a certain distinction to Holworthy, chickens were the best known of the hall's residents. Evangelinus Apostolides Sophocles, a professor of Greek, occupied one room in Holworthy for 37 years; so did his poultry. The exact number of his birds is not known; several observers held that he kept some at the home of a certain lady on Garden Street.

By far the most unusual of old Holworthy customs had to do with the annual Class Day celebration. As soon as all ladies had left the Yard, the residents of Holworthy would come charging down the lawn, taking off their clothes as they ran. The goal of so strange a chase was the fountain erected each year to commemorate Class Day. Eventually the practice of taking an annual bath in the Yard spread to the whole college.

Moonlight dips, resident chickens, and a general sense of pride in their fashionable address could not fail to establish a nostalgic band among the men of Holworthy. To celebrate the building's centennial in 1912, 1200 invitations were sent to residents past and present. After receptions in each of Holworthy's suites, a highly jovial crowd marched to a festive dinner at which Professor Kittredge was toastmaster, two original poems were presented, and a senior named R. C. Benchley '12 read a parody on the "apocryphal recollections of an old graduate."

There is no assurance that some of the stories told of Holworthy are not a bit apocryphal. Truth may at times be stranger than fiction, but stories, even true ones, have a way of growing. For instance, how could 48 Holworthy men have fitted into the small Class Day fountain? And was Professor Sophocles ignorant or exempt from the dormitory regulations which prohibit animals of any nature from being in rooms?