Throughout the United States, graduation ceremonies each year are characterized by a series of familiar sounds: the enthusiastic cheers of friends and families, the dignified grandeur of speeches, and a very well-known musical piece. Most Americans, even if they aren’t aware of its official name, simply recognize it as “Pomp and Circumstance.” Specifically, it is the “trio” section of the best-known of Edward Elgar’s five Pomp and Circumstance marches, “March No. 1 in D Major.” Elgar composed the piece in 1901 not with education or graduation in mind but as a patriotic military march. The term “pomp and circumstance” originates from Shakespeare’s “Othello,” where Othello refers to the captivating allure of the “spirit-stirring drum” of “glorious war.”
In Britain, the march still evokes the confident grandiosity of an empire at its peak, a sentiment that World War I would later disrupt. In America, nonetheless, the tune acquired a different meaning, becoming synonymous with graduation ceremonies by the 1920s. The transformation of a British military march into a graduation anthem – by a nation formerly under British rule, no less – illustrates how music can be imbued with new meanings. Elgar had already gained recognition in the 1890s for compositions such as “The Black Knight” and “King Olaf.” By the time of Queen Victoria’s death in 1901, he was deemed, according to biographer Basil Maine, as the country’s leading musician. The debut of “March No. 1” catapulted his fame even further.
Both music critics and the public held it in high regard for its grand, majestic qualities. Britain’s new monarch, Edward VII, was among those who praised the piece, persuading Elgar to include it in a longer ode written for the king’s coronation. For this occasion, essayist and critic A.C. Benson penned lyrics to accompany Elgar’s melody, resulting in the patriotic anthem “Land of Hope and Glory.” British audiences primarily recognize this version of “March No. 1.” Alongside “Jerusalem” and “I Vow to Thee, My Country,” “Land of Hope and Glory” ranks among Britain’s most renowned patriotic songs, second only to the national anthem. The Proms, a series of popular summer concerts in Britain founded in 1895, traditionally feature “Land of Hope and Glory” in the final concert of the season.
Arguably, no other piece so perfectly captures the pre-World War I mood in Britain. As an expert on this period, I cannot ignore the work’s unrestrained boldness and the sonorous confidence conveying that Britain is the world’s preeminent power. However, this sense of stability was fleeting. The devastation of World War I crushed this illusion, marking the onset of Britain’s diminishing influence in global affairs. In the succeeding decades, World War II and its aftermath led to the swift dissolution of the British Empire. Today, in the 21st century, the tune brings nostalgia for a lost golden age. Yet, the lyrics of “Land of Hope and Glory” have stirred controversy due to their imperialist and expansionist implications – “wider still and wider shall her bounds be set.” In contrast, Americans have not linked the song to an imperial past, instead celebrating it for over a century as a symbol of the future.
The association of the tune with graduation ceremonies began in 1905 when Yale awarded Elgar an honorary doctorate. At the ceremony’s conclusion, the school orchestra played “March No. 1” in his honor. This practice spread among prestigious universities. Princeton performed the song in 1907, followed by the University of Chicago in 1908 and Columbia in 1913. Its popularity expanded naturally, aided by the nation’s increasing interconnectedness. With railroads, telegraphs, and advances in printing technology, news and individuals could travel swiftly. Within two decades, “March No. 1” evolved from an Ivy League curiosity to a widely accepted standard for both high school and college graduations. Why did it catch on so swiftly? I believe its blend of optimism and grandeur, interwoven with a touch of nostalgia, struck a chord.