THE APPOINTMENT.

War Department.[2]

Washington, ________ 1868.

Sir: You are hereby informed, that the President has conditionally selected you for appointment as Cadet of the United States Military Academy, at West Point, New York.

Should you desire the appointment, you will report in person to the Superintendent of the Academy on the ____ day of ________, 1869, for examination. If it be found that you possess the qualifications required by law and set forth in the circular[3] herewith, you will be admitted, with pay from date of admission, and your warrant of appointment will be delivered to you.

Should you be found deficient in studies at the semi-annual or annual examinations, or should your conduct reports be unfavorable, you will be discharged from the military service, unless otherwise recommended for special reasons by the Academic Board, but will receive an allowance for traveling expenses to your home.

Your attention is particularly directed to the accompanying circular, and it is to be distinctly understood that this notification confers upon you no right to enter the Military Academy unless your qualifications agree fully with its requirements, and unless you report for examination at the time specified.

You are requested to immediately inform the Department of your acceptance or declination of the contemplated appointment upon the above conditions.

Very respectfully,

____________
Secretary of War.

To ____________

____________, 1868.

To the Honorable Secretary of War,[4] Washington, D. C.

Sir: I hereby respectfully acknowledge the receipt of your notification of my contemplated appointment as a Cadet of the United States Military Academy, with the appended circular, and inform you of my acceptance of the same upon the conditions named.

I certify, on honor, that I was born at ________, in the County of ________, State of ________, on the ____ day of ________, 18__, and that I have been an actual resident of the Congressional District of ________ for __ years and __ months.

(Signature of appointee) ____________

I hereby assent to the acceptance by my ________ of his conditional appointment as Cadet in the military service, and he has my full permission to sign articles binding himself to serve the United States eight years, unless sooner discharged.

I also certify, on honor, that the above statements are true and correct in every particular.

(Signature of parent or guardian) ____________

CHAPTER II.
THE PREPARATION.

After examining the papers received from the War Department, I found one that required my father’s signature before I myself could accept the appointment. My parents both objected to my leaving home, and therefore did not wish me to go to West Point. I argued that I wanted to go to college somewhere, and why not let me go where Uncle Sam paid the bills. At last I won my mother on my side, and then my father, seeing that my heart was so fixed, signed the paper requiring his signature, and mailed it to the Honorable Secretary of War, Washington, D. C. This done, I let the secret out, and all of my boy friends wanted to know how I had gotten the appointment. I told part, but I did not tell just how I did get it.

After seeing the kind of examination[5] I would have to pass at West Point the next year, my father decided to send me to the High School at Ann Arbor, Mich., and to send my brother Charley there with me to prepare him for the University of Michigan. We entered the High School early in September. About two weeks afterward the University of Michigan (also at Ann Arbor) opened, and we observed that many of the candidates for the freshman class seemed no farther advanced than we thought ourselves, so we applied, were examined, and admitted to the University. I thought that if I failed at West Point I could return and graduate at the University in three instead of four years.

There was a tall young man from Tennessee, who entered the High School with us, and afterward entered the University, too. He, like myself, had an appointment to West Point, and was going there the next June, so we became friends at once, and he and I agreed to study after Christmas for the West Point examination. After the sophomores quit hazing, all went well with us, and the year soon passed. I left Ann Arbor on the last day of April to return home via Lakes Huron and Michigan, and went to Detroit to take the first steamer of the season around the lakes to Chicago. Upon arriving in Detroit, I heard that there was to be a muster and inspection of a regiment of United States troops out at Fort Wayne, a short ride from Detroit, and as I was to be a soldier, I went to see the sight. As I looked at the troops (the First U. S. Infantry), I thought that I would like to be an officer of that regiment when I graduated from West Point, and singularly enough my wish was gratified. I remained so long at Fort Wayne that the boat had departed when I returned to Detroit, so I took train and overtook the boat at Port Huron. While there I went to see Fort Gratiot, and strange to say, that was subsequently my first army station. When the steamer stopped at Mackinaw I visited the fort that was there at that time.

After my return home I reviewed the studies I was to be examined on in a few weeks, and then started east. I promised my father if I failed to pass the examination that I would return home at once. Arriving in the great city of New York, I took passage on the day steamer “Mary Powell,” and was charmed with the scenery along the Hudson. The first stop was at the south landing at West Point. I was on the upper deck at the time, and after seeing my trunk put ashore, I walked leisurely downstairs to disembark and to my great surprise the boat was fifty feet or more from shore when I got down. I thought that all steamers made long stops, for the only other boat that I had ever been on stopped for many hours every time she landed. The captain would not let me off, and said that I could get off at Cornwall and take a down boat the same evening. I was satisfied and went on the upper deck again and saw the passengers who had landed get into the West Point Hotel ’bus. All the trunks except mine were put on the top of the ’bus, and it was then driven up the hill, leaving my trunk all alone on the dock.

When the steamer stopped at Cornwall I this time promptly stepped ashore. It was about sunset. There were not more than half a dozen buildings in sight, and not a soul at the dock, and I was the only passenger landing at that point. I went to one of the houses and inquired the location of the hotel, and I was informed that it was not open, as it was too early for summer visitors. I then asked what time the down boat was due, and was informed that it would be along soon, but that it would not stop. The West Shore Railroad was not built at that time, and as there was no stage line over the mountains nor ferry on the river, I began to fear that I could not get away by the tenth of June, the last day for me to report. This bothered me more than the hotel accommodations, but I soon found obliging people and arranged for my lodging and breakfast, and also to be rowed to my destination the next day.

Transcriber’s Note: Image is clickable for a larger version.

Topographical Sketch of WEST POINT

CHAPTER III.
THE CANDIDATE.

“As the twig is bent, the tree is inclined.”

It was about ten o’clock in the morning of June 8, 1869, when I stepped from a rowboat on the dock near the Sea Coast Battery at West Point. The weather was perfect, and my heart was light and free. As there was neither any person nor conveyance at the dock, I followed the road winding up the hill to the plain. I stopped to admire the scenery. In front I beheld a level green plain of one hundred acres or more with massive buildings peeping through the large elm trees that fringe two sides of the plain; on either side were high hills; in my rear rolled the majestic Hudson between the Highlands, with Siege Battery at my feet. As I gazed around it was to me then, as it is to me now, the most beautiful of places.

I found my way to the Adjutant’s office in the Administration Building[6] and reported. I was courteously received and handed the “Instructions to Candidates” to read. I stated the fact of my trunk having been put ashore on the south dock and of the Mary Powell carrying me to Cornwall the previous evening, and I was told that my trunk had undoubtedly been taken to the hotel, as there was then (and now is) but one hotel at the Point. And I was also informed that my trunk would be sent to the Cadet Barracks. After I had complied with the instructions, an orderly, at the sound of a bell, entered and was directed to escort me to the barracks. In going through the area we passed some cadets and I overheard such remarks as “He’ll learn to button his coat.” At the orderly’s suggestion I buttoned my coat. He took me into a hall, said “This is the door,” laid down my valise, and left me. The door was the first one on the right of the eighth division—how well I remember it! I knocked on the door, and heard a commanding voice say “Come in!”[7] With valise and umbrella in one hand and cap in the other, I entered. There were two cadets in the room, seated near a table, and before I had a chance to speak, I was greeted about as follows: “Leave your things in the hall. Don’t you know better than to bring them in here?” I stepped into the hall, left the door open, and while looking for a suitable place to put my things (for there was neither a hook nor a table), one of these two cadets cried out: “Lay them on the floor and come in, and don’t be all day about it, either. Move lively, I say. Shut the door. Stand there. Come to attention. Put your heels together, turn out your toes, put your hands by your side, palms to the front, fingers closed, little fingers on the seams of the trousers, head up, chin in, shoulders thrown back, chest out, draw in your belly, and keep your eyes on this tack.” While one cadet was giving commands with great rapidity, the other one fixed my feet, hands, head and shoulders. “What’s your name? Put a Mr. before it. How do you spell it? What’s your first name? Spell it. What’s your middle name? Have none? What state are you from? What part? Put a sir on every answer. Where’s your trunk? Don’t know? Didn’t you bring one? Put on a sir; how often do you want me to speak about it?” I explained how my trunk and I had arrived at different times. “You’re too slow. You’ll never get along here. Keep your eyes on that tack; turn the palms of your hands squarely to the front. Did you bring all of the articles marked ‘thus’? You don’t know what they are? Put on a sir, I tell you. Didn’t you get a circular telling what articles you should bring? Didn’t you read it? Now answer me; did you bring the articles marked ‘thus’? Well, why didn’t you say so at first? Keep your eyes on that tack.” A wagon drove up and put a trunk on the porch near the window. “About face! Turn around the other way. Don’t you know anything? Is that your trunk? It is, is it? Now, let’s see you ‘about face’ properly. Steady. At the word ‘about’ turn on the left heel, turning the left toe to the front, carrying the right foot to the rear, the hollow opposite to and three inches from the left heel, the feet perpendicular to each other. Don’t look at your feet. Head up. Stand at ‘attention’ till I give the command. Now, ‘about’ (one of the cadets fixed my feet); at the word ‘face,’ turn on both heels, raise the toe a little, face to the rear, when the face is nearly completed, raise the right foot and replace it by the left. Now, ‘face.’ Ah! turn on both heels. Fix your eyes on that tack again. Draw in your belly. Throw back your shoulders and stand up like a man. Now, ‘left, face.’ Don’t you know your left hand from your right? Face that door; open it. Ah! why don’t you step off with the left foot first? Pick up your things, follow me, and move lively.” My back was nearly broken, and I was glad to get out of that room. After going a few steps on the broad porch on the area side of barracks, a young man in civilian clothes came out of the next hallway carrying the palms of his hands to the front. “Come here, Mr. Howard, and help your room-mate carry his trunk upstairs; step lively, now.” With that introduction Mr. Howard and I took hold of the trunk. Just then the tall young Tennesseean, whom I knew at Ann Arbor, passed, carrying the palms of his hands to the front. We exchanged knowing winks, but did not venture to speak. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t be all day carrying that trunk upstairs.” Howard and I tugged away and finally got the trunk upstairs and into the room designated. Candidates Howard and Knapp had already been assigned to the same room. “Stand attention, Mr. Knapp. Don’t you know enough to stand attention when I enter the room? Palms to the front. Put the trunk over there. Mr. R⸺d, open your trunk and valise and take out everything and make a list of all you have. Stand attention, Mr. Howard. Take out your things first and make a list afterward. Put the small articles on this part of the clothes-press, hang your clothes on those pegs and put your bedding over there. Study the regulations. Fold your things properly, put them in their places, and the next time I come in I want to see everything in place. What did you bring that umbrella for? You will never need it here. Mr. R⸺d, post your name over there on the ‘alcove,’ put it on the ‘Orderly Board’ under Mr. Knapp’s name, and put it there on the clothes-press. Whenever you hear the command, ‘Candidates, turn out,’ button your coats, hasten downstairs and ‘fall in’ in the Area.” Cadet Hood left the room then, and we sat down, prostrated. Then we proceeded to get acquainted with one another, and on comparing notes we found that each one of us had had about the same reception. As Howard and Knapp had reported the day before, they gave me many pointers, which I appreciated.

The room was good-sized, with two alcoves at the end opposite the window; but, oh! how uninviting it seemed. No bed, no carpet, no curtains, and not even shades. The furniture that was in the room consisted of a clothes-press, that is, shelving arranged for two cadets, but to be used by three or four candidates, two small iron tables, a wash stand, an iron mantel and a steam coil with a marble slab on it. H⸺rd and K⸺p had already carried from the Commissary certain articles for use by all occupants of the room, as follows: A looking-glass, a wash basin, a water bucket, a cocoanut dipper, a slop bucket and a broom. They had also obtained such other articles as were required for their personal use, such as a chair and a pillow.

The following extract from the “Blue Book” shows the arrangement of rooms, etc.

White Helmet.—On the clothes-press.

Dress Hat.—On the gun-rack shelf.

Cartridge Box and Bayonet or Sword.—On pegs near gun-rack.

Caps and Sabres.—On pegs near gun-rack.

Rifle.—In gun-rack.

Spurs.—On peg with sabre.

Bedstead.—In alcove against side wall of room, head against rear wall.

Bedding.—Mattress, folded once; blankets, comforter and sheets, folded separately, so that the folds shall be the width of the pillow, and all piled against the head of the bedstead, thus: mattress, sheets, pillow, blankets and comforter; the end of the pile next to the alcove partition to be in line with the side of the bedstead; this end and the front of the pile to be vertical.

Clothes-Press.—Books on top against the wall, backs to the front; hair and clothes brushes, combs, shaving materials, such small boxes as are allowed, vials for medicines, etc., on top shelf; belts, collars, gloves, handkerchiefs, socks, etc., on second shelf from the top; sheets, pillow cases, shirts, drawers, pants, etc., on the other shelves.

Text-Books.—Those in daily use may be upon the tables, except during Sunday morning inspection.

Arrangement.—All articles of the same kind to be neatly placed in one pile, folded edges to the front and even with front edge of the shelves. Nothing to be between these piles and the back of the press, unless want of room renders it necessary.

Soiled Clothes.—In clothes bag.

Shoes.—To be kept clean, dusted and arranged in line, toes to the front, along the side near the foot of the bed. Shoe brush in the fireplace.

Woolen Clothing, Dressing Gown and Clothes Bag.—On pegs in alcove, arranged as follows: Overcoat, dressing gown, uniform coats, jackets, gray pants, clothes bag and night clothes.

Broom.—Behind the door.

Candle Box.—In fireplace.

Tables.—Against the wall under gas jet or near the window when the room is dark.

Chairs.—From 8 a. m. to 10 p. m. against the tables when not in use.

Mirror.—At center of mantel.

Wash Stand.—In front of and against alcove partition.

Wash Basin.—Inverted on top of wash stand.

Water Bucket.—Near to and on side of wash stand opposite the door.

Dipper.—In water bucket.

Slop Bucket.—Near to and on side of wash stand nearest the door.

Curtains.—Regulation only allowed.

Calendar.—A small, plain one may be placed on the wall over the gas fixture.

Clock.—A small plain one may be kept on the mantel.

Bath Towel.—May be hung in the alcove.

Trunks, Pictures, Splashers, Writing Desks, Etc.—Prohibited. There is a storeroom for trunks.

Floor.—To be kept clean and free from grease spots or stains.

Heating Apparatus.—To be kept clean and free from scratches.

Windows.—Cadets are forbidden to sit at the windows with feet on the woodwork, or to appear before windows improperly dressed, or to communicate through windows, or to raise the lower sash more than four inches during “call to quarters.”

Names.—Uniformly printed to be posted over gun-rack pegs, alcove, clothes-press and on orderly board over wash stand.

Hours of Recitation.—To be on the mantel on either side of the mirror.

Academic Regulations, Articles of War and the Blue Book.—To be kept on the mantel.

Laundry.—All clothes sent to the wash to be plainly marked with owner’s name.

Room Orderly.—Is responsible for the cleanliness and ventilation of the room, and that articles for joint use are in place.

After having folded and arranged my possessions according to the Blue Book, as I understood from a hasty perusal of it, I looked out of the window down into the Area of Barracks, where I saw old cadets passing to and fro. They carried themselves so very erect that we could not help but admire them and wish that we too were as straight and walked as well as they. We observed what small waists they had, and we wondered if they laced. Another thing we observed was that the cadets looked so much alike. I had unbuttoned my coat while arranging my effects, and forgot to button it again, when I heard a quick walk in the hall and then a sharp, firm, single rap on the door. We all sprang promptly to attention, palms to the front. Cadet Hood entered and began: “Button your coat, Mr. R⸺d.” He moved several piles on the clothes-press and disarranged my bedding, too, saying, “Not folded properly. Why don’t you study the Blue Book? Mr. Howard, fill your water bucket the first thing every morning. Get the water from one of the hydrants[8] in the Area. The floor is very dirty; sweep it properly, invert your wash bowl, and don’t let me have occasion to speak about these things again.”

The first call for dinner sounded and then we heard, “Candidates, turn out promptly.” We hastened downstairs. The old cadets were gathering in four different groups, while the candidates were being put into another one. Cadets Hood, Allen and Macfarlan were on the watch for candidates, and they began thus:

“Button that coat. Get down here lively. ‘Fall in.’ Fall in in the rear; don’t you know better than to get in front of anybody? Palms to the front. Fix your eyes on the seam of the coat collar of the man in front of you, and at the second call, face to the left.” Some of the candidates faced one way and some another, but we were soon straightened out, and then, “Eyes to the front! What do you mean gazing about in ranks? Each candidate, as his name is called, will answer ‘Here’ in a clear and audible tone of voice.” The roll of the candidates was then called. “Why don’t you answer, Mr. H⸺? Well, then, speak up so that you can be heard. Mr. ⸺, don’t shout,” and so on till the last name was called. We were told how to “count fours,” and after the command came something like this: “Stop counting. Try it over. Count fours. Steady, Mr. ⸺; wait till the man on your right counts. Eyes to the front. Why don’t you count, Mr. ⸺! Speak out. Eyes to the front,” and so on. We were now told how to “wheel by fours,” and at the command, “March,” to step off with the left foot first. There was a great time after the command, “Fours right, march,” was given. The cadets on duty over us were kept busy shouting at and pulling in place, first one candidate and then another, but after a fashion we got started and followed the cadets to the Mess Hall, and those on duty over us were kept busy all the way correcting mistakes made by the candidates.

While en route to dinner we were directed to remove our caps just before entering the Mess Hall and to put them on again just after leaving it. Of course we made blunders, and were gently (?) corrected for them. Upon entering the hall we were directed to certain tables, but told not to sit down until the command, “Candidates, take seats,” was given. When each one found a place behind an iron stool (that in my day resembled an hour glass in shape), the command, “A Company, take seats,” was given, and then the members of A Company all sat down promptly; then came “B Company, take seats,” “C Company, take seats,” “D Company, take seats,” and then “Candidates, take seats.” Immediately after the last command something like this came: “Sit down promptly. Do you want to be all day about it? Eat your dinner, and don’t leave the table until the command, ‘Candidates, rise.’”

Dinner was on the table, and there were a good many tables in the big hall. Each table had seats for twenty-two persons, ten on a side and one at either end. There were tablecloths, but no napkins, and one waiter for every two long tables; the waiters did not pass anything, but brought water, bread, etc., when needed. The cadets (and candidates) at the ends of the tables did the carving, while those at the center of the long tables poured the water. At supper and breakfast there were no tablecloths. Tablecloths and napkins are now furnished for all meals, and there are cane seat chairs instead of the old iron stools. The tables of the cadets were divided crosswise in the center by an imaginary line into two parts, and each part was called a table. The cadets had seats according to rank, and they always sat in the same seats. First classmen sat near the end called the head of the table, second classmen next, third classmen (except the corporals) next, and then fourth classmen, the latter being at the center of the long tables. The corporals at the ends of the tables were the carvers, and the fourth classmen poured the water.[9]

After dinner we were marched back to barracks, and before being dismissed the candidates were informed that they could do as they pleased until the bugle sounded “Call to quarters” at 2 o’clock, and then they must repair promptly to quarters, that is, to their own rooms in the barracks. All the time that we were in ranks the usual volleys were fired at us, such as: “Eyes to the front. Head erect and chin in.” After we were dismissed we were constantly reminded to “carry palms of the hands to the front,” notwithstanding the fact that we had been told to go where we pleased for a whole half hour. Some of the candidates went to the sink (i. e., water closet),[10] and some of the old cadets went there, too. A number of them surrounded a poor candidate, called him a plebe or an animal, and fired dozens of questions at him at once. The madder the plebe got the more fun it was for the old cadets. As the candidates were not acquainted with one another, and as they dreaded to meet the old cadets, they naturally drifted to their quarters, thinking that the safest place to be, but, alas! some of the old cadets called upon them there. While they did not mention their names, something like this generally occurred: “‘Shun, squad. Come to attention, plebes. Palms to the front. What’s your name? Spell it; spell it backwards. What state are you from? Who’s your predecessor?’ Say ‘Mr. ⸺.’ Do you think you can pass the ‘prelim’? Where is Newburg? Don’t know? How do you expect to get in here if you don’t know where Newburg is? Climb up on that mantel and be lively about it, too. Now move your arms and say ‘Caw, caw.’ Stop that laughing. Eyes to the front.” And so on, till the old cadets would slip out in time to go to their rooms for “Call to quarters.”

At two o’clock came the call, “Candidates, turn out promptly,” and every candidate turned out and “fell in.” A number were sent back for towels, and upon returning to the Area were sent to the bathrooms, then in the basement of D Company quarters. After bathing, some were sent to the Cadet Hospital for physical examination, and were there told to strip to the skin, then called one at a time before three Army Surgeons, in full uniform, who examined the lungs, eyes, ears, teeth and feet, made the candidates hop first on one foot, then on the other, raise their hands high above the head, cough, bend over forward, etc. When my turn came I did not mention anything about ever having been troubled with my eyes.

Upon returning to the barracks we were sent to the Commissary, where each candidate was given the articles necessary for his own immediate use. As near as I now remember, I got a chair, a pillow, a piece of soap, an arithmetic, a slate, a copybook, a quire of “uniform” paper, a history, a grammar and a geography. Other candidates who, like myself, had brought the articles marked “Thus*” received the same as I, while those who had not brought them got two blankets in addition to what the rest of us got. The books mentioned above are not now issued to candidates. Cadet H⸺d saw to it that candidates rooming together were provided with a wash bowl, a mirror, two buckets, etc. When all were fitted out we took up our loads and returned with them to Barracks, carrying them in our hands or on our shoulders, as was most convenient. This trip from the Commissary store across the grassy plain to Barracks has been described thus:

SETTING UP EXERCISES.

The setting up exercises are now taught by the Instructor of Military Gymnastics and Physical Culture.

“Examinations being completed,

The ‘found’ having fled evermore,

Then with fear and a sigh

And blood in the eye,

Candidates hasten to the store.

“‘Give me my things,’ in joy a plebe exclaims,

Then the storekeeper puts on a smile,

But dispels the illusion

And causes confusion

By throwing his goods in a pile.

“Slowly he carries them across the plain,

With buckets and broom in the rear;

But hard is the task,

He has reason to ask

If his future abode is quite clear.

“The looking-glass breaks, the pails rattle loud,

And the sound echoes from afar;

Plebe cries in disgust,

‘Let me get up and dust,

I want to go home to my ma.’”

Upon returning to Barracks we were ordered to our rooms, and then to the shoeblacks, at that time in the basement of B Company quarters, to have our shoes cleaned and polished, and told to go there, at certain hours, as often as necessary to keep our shoes in proper order. Candidates whose hair was considered too long by Cadet H⸺d were sent to the barber’s, at that time in the basement of C Company quarters. Candidates who had to shave were directed to shave themselves, as the barber was not permitted to do anything but cut hair.

At 4:15 p. m. we were turned out for “Squad Drill.” We “fell in” promptly and were corrected in the manner indicated when we fell in for dinner. Even now I seem to hear Cadets A⸺n, H⸺d and M⸺n shouting themselves hoarse at us poor, stupid candidates. There were about twenty “yearlings,” classmates of Cadets A⸺n and H⸺d, standing around our line, waiting to get a chance at the candidates, so as to compete with them and with one another for “Corporal’s chevrons.” We were separated into squads of four or five to the squad, and a cadet instructor assigned to drill each squad. Cadet H⸺d had the squad I was in. After all details were adjusted, the command, “March off your Squads” was given, and then Babylon was let loose; the candidates could hear the commands of all of the instructors, and they did not know the voice of their own, hence there was much confusion. Some of the instructors acted as if they wanted to terrorize the candidates in their squads, and shouted: “Eyes to the front. Pay attention to me. What do you mean by listening to others? Palms to the front,” and so on, for ten or fifteen minutes, and then we were given a brief “rest.”

Then we were taught how to march and the instructor began thus: “At the word ‘forward’ throw the weight of the body upon the right leg, the left knee straight. At the word ‘march’ move the left leg smartly, without jerk, carry the left foot forward thirty inches from the right, the sole near the ground, the toe a little depressed, knee straight and slightly turned out. At the same time throw the weight of the body forward (eyes to the front), and plant the foot without shock, weight of the body resting upon it; next, in like manner, advance the right foot and plant it as above. Continue to advance without crossing the legs or striking one against the other, keeping the face direct to the front. Now, ‘forward, common time, march.’ Depress the toe, so that it strikes the ground at the same time as the heel. (Palms of the hands squarely to the front. Head up.) When I count ‘one,’ plant the left foot, ‘two,’ plant the right, ‘three,’ plant the left again, ‘four,’ plant the right again, and so on. Now, ‘One,’ ‘two,’ ‘three,’ ‘four,’” etc. “Bring your feet down together. Depress your toes,” and so on.

We were taught many things, such as the facings, the exercises, rests, etc. “In place, rest,” was the most acceptable, but half the pleasure of that was taken away from the candidates by being often told to “keep one heel in place.” That first hour at squad drill is not soon forgotten. My every muscle was sore and I ached all over. Just before we were dismissed we were informed that we could go anywhere we pleased on Cadet Limits, so long as we were back a little before sunset, in time for dress parade. This seemed a great privilege, but wherever candidates went some old cadets were already there, and greeted them with “Depress your toes, plebes. Palms to the front. Are you going to be all summer learning how to march? Squad halt. Right hand salute. What’s your name? Can you sing, dance or play on the piano? Come here ‘Dad,’ and see this ‘animal.’” And a thousand and one other equally pleasant sayings.

Dress parade came and went, but the candidates did not participate in the ceremony out on the grassy plain. They were kept in the Area, and their positions alternated between “Attention” and “Parade, Rest.” When the “Retreat Gun” was fired many of them jumped half out of ranks, and then were gently (?) informed that they were a fine lot of soldiers. “What do you mean by leaving ranks before you are dismissed?” When we had half a chance we enjoyed the music of the band, but it was very hard to hear it and our instructor’s commands at the same time. Soon after parade we fell in again and marched to supper. On the way to and from the Mess Hall we were constantly entertained by our cadet instructors by such commands as, “Eyes to the front,” “Depress your toes,” and “Palms to the front.” Before being dismissed after supper we were informed that we had half an hour before “Call to quarters,” and that during that half hour we could do as we pleased. But that half hour passed just as the other half hours had passed, that is, by the candidates furnishing amusement for the old cadets.

Upon going to our rooms at the signal of “Call to quarters,” Cadet H⸺d called to say that if we expected to pass our preliminary examination we had better “bone up” for it; he also informed us that we could not retire until after “Tattoo.” A cadet’s bed is “made down,” when it is ready to get into, and it is “made up” when it is piled according to regulations and not ready for use. We were too tired to talk. At 9:30 we were turned out to Tattoo. After Tattoo I folded each blanket lengthwise and laid it on the floor, then spread the sheets and comforter on the blankets, undressed and got in bed, leaving H⸺rd, the room orderly, to turn out the gas. Our bones did not fit the hard floor very well, but we soon fell asleep. “Taps” sounded at 10 p. m., and, oh, how sweet and soothing it was. In a few moments more our room door was opened (for they are never locked), a dark lantern flashed in our faces and the door closed again. The same thing was repeated once more during the night, but this time by an officer of the army, called by the cadets a “Tactical Officer.” These inspections were made to make sure that our lights were out and that we were in bed. We slept in the alcoves, heads near the wall farthest from the door. H⸺rd, K⸺p and I, when fast asleep, were suddenly awakened. We had been “yanked,” that is, some old cadets had come into our room, seized our blankets, and with a quick jerk carried us some distance from the wall, and then ran out of the room. We fell asleep once more and slept soundly until we were awakened by the “Reveille Gun” that is fired at sunrise and followed by the beating off of “Reveille.” This music was very pretty, too, but we could not half appreciate it, as we had to get up at once, fall in and begin another day. After reveille we made up our beds. H⸺rd swept out and brought a bucket of fresh water. Cadet H⸺d inspected our quarters twenty minutes after reveille, and said, “Mr. H⸺rd, your wash bowl is not inverted, and your floor not half swept. Attend to them at once.”

We had another hour’s drill before breakfast (omitted now), which made us very hungry. Sick call sounded soon after this drill, but while the candidates were all half sick, it was not medicine they wanted, so none of them went to the hospital. Breakfast was at seven o’clock, and after it the candidates furnished the cadets with the customary half-hour’s entertainment before call to quarters sounded. Cadet H⸺d again cautioned us to “bone up” when he inspected quarters about nine o’clock, and said: “The mantel is dusty, and the floor very dirty.” Captain H⸺t, a Tactical Officer of the Army, also inspected us before noon, but he did not say anything. While I had then been only a day at West Point, so much had happened that it seemed an age.

About a week passed with much the same routine as for the first day, except that we had Saturday afternoon, after inspection, to ourselves, that is, such part of it as we were not busy entertaining old cadets, and on Sunday morning we had inspection of quarters, and after this inspection we were all marched to church. On Sunday afternoon we were permitted to make down and air, or use, our beds, and to enjoy lying on the soft side of the boards again. The candidates were all marched to the Episcopal Church, “the” church there at that day. In due time the Catholics and Methodists attended their own churches, but all cadets, except Jewish ones, had to attend some church once a week. After inspection of quarters on Sunday morning, K⸺p became room orderly for the next week. It was then his duty to sweep and dust the room and to carry the water needed for himself, H⸺rd and me. The dirt was swept into the hall to one side of the door, and left there. A policeman, that is, the janitor, swept the halls, carried out the waste water and scrubbed room and hall floors, when necessary. It is wonderful how soon we learned many things, such as to button our coats and spring to attention, palms to the front, at the sound of footsteps in our hall. At first we made mistakes, but we soon learned to distinguish the footsteps of our instructors from those of our fellow-candidates.

There was a story in my day of a gentleman who went with his son when the latter reported as a candidate, and that while Cadets H⸺d and A⸺n were putting the son through his first lesson in the office, the father turned his palms to the front, put his heels together, and otherwise assumed the position of the soldier.

At the first opportunity I wrote home, but I was very careful not to mention the hardships I endured, for the reason that I had gone to West Point contrary to my parents’ wishes, and consequently I was determined to get through if I could. This reminds me, there were young men in my class whose parents had sent them there against the wishes of the candidates themselves, and many of these young men did not want to stay. Competitive examinations required by some Congressmen for appointments were not as common in my day as they are now. Some of my classmates purposely failed on the preliminary examination and West Point is no place for a young man unless the young man himself wants to go there.

One day Mr. B⸺dy, my predecessor, sent for me to go to his quarters. I did not know what new trials were in store for me, as I had never been in any old cadet’s quarters. Mr. B⸺dy invited me to sit down, which I did for the first time in an old cadet’s presence. We talked for a few moments about people we both knew at our native places. He then gave me his “white pants” (about twenty pairs), and said he hoped I would pass the “prelim” so as to be able to wear them, and that I would graduate higher than he would.

The “graduating ball” that year was on the night of June 14th, but as candidates were not expected to attend it, none were present. The next day the graduating class received their diplomas, discarded cadet gray, put on “Cit” clothes, said good-byes and left the Point, to return no more as cadets. We did not know much of the graduating class, but I now remember the names of more men in that class than in any other at the Academy, excepting my own. This I account for from the fact that I was then so much impressed with the importance of a graduate of West Point. In my eyes he seemed to be a greater man than the Superintendent, in fact there was no comparison.

There was a change made on graduating day among the cadet officers. At the next drill Cadet H⸺d appeared with pretty gold lace chevrons on his coat. He wore them on the sleeves of his dress coat, below the elbow, and he was proud to have everybody know that he was a “Corporal” now. I promptly congratulated him, and he said, “Thank you, Mr. R⸺d,” instead of reprimanding me for speaking without having been first spoken to. In a few days more the new second class men put on “Cit” clothes, and left on furlough. It seemed strange to me that these cadets seemed just as anxious to take off the cadet gray as the candidates were to put it on.

Before the departure of the graduates and furloughmen the candidates learned that there were four trunk rooms[11] in the angle of Barracks, one for the cadets of each company. They learned this by carrying trunks from there to the rooms of the graduates and furloughmen. I soon learned that I got along the easiest by saying as little as possible and doing about as I was told. The candidates who talked much or who bragged on what they knew, especially about military matters, had the hardest time. These poor fellows were called “too fresh,” or “rapid,” and, as the cadets expressed it, they had to be “taken down.”

It was a common thing for old cadets to enjoy a call upon candidates after supper and on Saturday afternoons. And it was difficult at first for candidates to become acquainted with one another, as so much of their leisure (?) time was taken up answering questions, standing on chairs, tables and mantels, reading press notices about themselves, singing, and in fact doing almost everything old cadets told them to do. I have heard many cadets when they were “plebes” or “animals,” declare that they would not do so and so, but they always did as they were told, and they were quick about it, too. It is strange what control old cadets have over “plebes.” They never laid hands on candidates except when they yanked them.

We soon discovered that the cadets who found especial delight in being in the society of plebes were generally “yearlings,” that is, those who had themselves been plebes only the year before. But “yearling” instructors[12] seldom deviled plebes in their own squads.

Mail arrived every day, and was sorted over, that for the cadets and plebes in each division was dropped on the floor in the halls near the entrances and the word mail called out in a loud tone of voice. Every one expecting mail buttoned up his coat and hastened to get such as might be for him. Now the policemen deliver mail to the cadets in their rooms.[13]

In a few days more the candidates were sent in sections of about a dozen to the section for their preliminary or entrance examination. The section I was in was sent to a room having tables, chairs and writing materials, and we were here examined in writing and spelling. There was but one officer present, and after a certain time we put our names on and handed our papers to him whether we had finished them or not. We were next sent to another room, where there were about a half a dozen members of the Academic Board, and as many other army officers.[14] Each candidate, as his name was called, was assigned a subject and then sent to a blackboard. The first one called was numbered one, the second numbered two, and so on, until five or six candidates were sent to different blackboards. Each was directed to write his name and number at the upper right hand corner of the board, to put such data or work on the board as he wished, and when ready to recite to pick up a pointer in his right hand and face about. While those sent to the blackboard were getting ready to recite, another candidate was sent to the center of the room, facing the examiners, and then questioned by one of them. After finishing with the candidate on questions, No. 1 was called upon to recite, and after he was through, another candidate was assigned a subject and sent to the board, and so on. Some of the candidates were self-possessed, and made good recitations and ready answers to questions, while others trembled all over and lost control over themselves, their hearts got up into their throats or went down into their boots. The examination here was in grammar, history, and geography. We were then sent to another room before as many other Professors and Army Officers for examination in arithmetic and reading. I was satisfied with my examination up to this time. After the assignments to the blackboards I was called upon to read. I began to tremble, and had much difficulty in turning to the page designated. I read very poorly, because I could not hold the book steady, and the words on the page danced so that it was hard for me to catch them. I was then told to put down the book and was questioned in arithmetic. Professor C⸺h asked me a number of questions, the answers to which I knew perfectly well, yet all the answer I could make was “I don’t know, sir.” Professor C⸺h then talked kindly and said how important it was to me, that I answer the questions, because if I did not answer properly that I would be found deficient and sent home. I then said that the old cadets had told me he would “find” me, and I believed he would. After having said this I got courage to ask to be sent to the blackboard. My request was granted, and I had no trouble in writing answers to every question, or to solve any problem given me, but for the life of me I could not turn my back to the board and tell what I had put on it; but fortunately I could point to anything called for. The preliminary examinations the next year were written, and they have been written ever since, which is decidedly the best, as some of my class were so badly frightened that they did not know what they said, and some who failed were graduates of good schools, or had passed splendid competitive examinations for their appointments. In a few days the result of the examination was announced, and I was happy to write home that I was one of the lucky ones to enter West Point, and be a “new Cadet” instead of a “Candidate.” Those of us who were fortunate enough to pass were sent to the Commissary[15] for “plebe-skins,” that is, rubber overcoats, caps and white gloves, and we were measured for uniform, clothes and shoes, and for fear perhaps that we might get lazy another hour’s drill, from 11 a. m. to 12 m., was given us. From now on we wore caps and white gloves at all infantry drills.

The new cadet whose name comes first in alphabetical order is the “class-marcher” whenever the class is called out by itself, and it is his duty to call the roll of the class and to report absentees. After our preliminary examination Baily became the class-marcher, and he marched us over to the Library, where we took the oath of allegiance.[16] We were now assigned to Companies, the tallest were put in A and D and the rest in B and C Companies, but the new cadets were still drilled by themselves in small squads, then in larger ones, and later on all in one squad as a company.

W⸺r of my class wore a plug hat when he reported, and he was sorry for it many times. He was the left file of Mr. H⸺d’s squad. One day we were drilling on the Cavalry plain,[17] and there were many ladies and gentlemen watching the drill. We were marching in line at double time, and Mr. H⸺d gave the command, “By the right flank, march.” Three of us marched to the right, but Mr. W⸺r went off to the left all by himself. Everybody near laughed, even Mr. H⸺d suppressed a grin, and then scolded the new cadets for laughing in ranks. Mr. W⸺r chewed tobacco, and this, too, caused him many unhappy moments, but after having been repeatedly reprimanded for chewing tobacco and told to spit it out he quit the practice in ranks.

There was a young man who could not keep step, yet he tried hard to do so. When in front he threw everybody behind him out of step and at other times he would walk all over the heels of the man in front of him. I do not remember whether he was found deficient physically or mentally, but he was not there long. This reminds me of the “Awkward Squad.” It was composed of those who were particularly slow in doing what they were told to do. Tired and sore as they were from the frequent drills, I have seen members of the Awkward Squad practice alone, determined to get out of it, which, of course, they eventually did.

We studied the Blue Book, but the most of the regulations were learned by having them beaten into our heads by the old cadets. We did not then have a copy of the Drill Regulations to study, but we learned them in the same way that we learned most of the Regulations in the Blue Book.

We were now instructed in many things besides Squad Drill. For instance, we were informed that we would be reported for all delinquencies, that is, for all offenses committed against the Regulations, that the reports would be read out daily after parade, and be posted the next day in a certain place; that we must go there every day to see the list; that when there were reports against us we must copy the exact wording of each report and then write an explanation for it; that we must write as many explanations as there were reports against us, and further, that for all official communications we must use “Uniform Paper” (i. e., paper of a certain size) and no other.

New cadets are taught to use as few words as possible in their explanations. One evening at Dress Parade, a plebe raised his hand and of course he was reported for it, and the reason he gave in his explanation for raising his hand in ranks was, “Bug in ear.”

The following illustrates the character of the reports posted against cadets, to-wit:

REPORTS.

Floor not properly swept at A. M. inspection.

Bedding not properly folded at police inspection.

Late at dinner formation.

Calling for articles of food in an unnecessarily loud tone of voice at supper.

Gloves in clothes-press not neatly arranged at morning inspection.

Appearing in Mathematical Section Room with shoes not properly polished.

Inattention in Mathematical Section Room.

Shoulder belt too short at inspection.

Dust in chamber of rifle at inspection.

In dressing gown at A. M. inspection.

Shoes at side of bed not dusted at A. M. inspection.

Hair too long at weekly inspection.

Absent from formation for gymnasium at 12 M.

Orderly light in quarters after taps.

Late at reveille.

Absent from quarters 9 A. M.

Wheeling improperly by fours at drill.

Not seeing to it that a cadet who was late at breakfast was reported.

Coat not buttoned throughout at reveille.

Cap visor dusty at guard-mounting.

The discipline is very strict, more so by far than in the Army, but the enforcement of penalties for reports is inflexible rather than severe. The reports are made by Army Officers, and by certain cadets themselves, such as file-closers and section-marchers, and the cadets make by far the greatest number of reports against one another, but no cadet ever reports another except when it is his duty to do so. If he fails to report a breach of discipline he himself is reported for the neglect. Cadets may write explanations for all reports against them, but they must write an explanation for absence from any duty or from quarters; for communicating at blackboard in section room; for neglect of study or duty; for disobedience of orders; for failure to register for a bath, and for failure to report departure or return on permit where such report is required.

When the Commandant accepts an explanation as satisfactory he crosses off the report, and four days after the date of reports, for which either no explanations or unsatisfactory ones have been received, he forwards them to the Superintendent, and he causes a certain number of demerits to be entered against a cadet for each report in a book kept for that purpose, and which the cadets may see once a week. Any cadet receiving more than one hundred demerits[18] in six months is dismissed from the Academy for deficiency in discipline. The result is that cadets invariably write explanations, and the form now used is as follows:

West Point, N. Y., ____ __, 19__.

Sir:

With reference to the report, “Absent from 9:20 A. M. class formation,” I have the honor to state that I did not hear the call for this formation. I was in my room at the time. The offense was unintentional.

Very respectfully,

John Jones,
Cadet prt. Co. “B,” 4th class.

For the first few weeks demerits are not counted against new cadets, but to teach them how to write them, explanations must be submitted for all reports. Whenever a cadet is reported absent, and he is on Cadet Limits, he is sure to write an explanation stating this fact and anything more he may have to say, because if he fails to do so he is tried by Court-Martial.[19]

A “permit” is a document that grants certain privileges to the cadet named in it. A map of “Cadet Limits” is posted where all may see it, and when a cadet desires to visit friends at the hotel or at an Officer’s quarters, or go to the Dutch Woman’s, i. e., the confectioner’s, or to the dentist’s, he must write an official letter to the Commandant of Cadets (or to the Adjutant of the Military Academy, as the case may be), setting forth what duty, if any, he wishes to be excused from, and the exact time he wishes. This letter will be returned with an endorsement granting all, a part or none of his request, and the cadet must govern himself accordingly.

From now on we had to make out a list of such articles as we wanted or were instructed to get from the Commissary. An account is kept by the Treasurer with each cadet, who is credited with his deposit, and also with his pay,[20] and he is charged for everything furnished him, such as board, washing, wearing apparel, bedding, books, gas, policing barracks, polishing shoes, etc. At his option a cadet is also charged for boats, hops, etc., and when out of debt with such luxuries as new clothes, hop gloves, hop shoes, or $2.00 per month for confectioneries at the “Dutch Woman’s.”

As time wore away we felt less fatigue from drill, and found more pleasure in life, and letters borne were quite cheerful.

Note 1. At present the new 5th classman is received by cadet officers under the immediate supervision of an officer of the Tactical Department and his reception is strictly in accordance with the requirements of military discipline and courtesy. The discipline is, of course, of the strictest and is rigidly enforced, but the life of the newcomer is so hedged about by orders and is so carefully guarded by those who have him in charge, that it is doubtful if a young man entering any school or college in the country would be subjected to less annoyance or embarrassment than would fall to his lot at the Military Academy.

Note 2. At present each table seats 10 cadets, and the cadets are about equally divided among the different classes. One first classman sits at the head of each table; he is officially designated “The Commandant of Table,” and is responsible for order at his table.

Note 3. The mail is now received and distributed by company in the Cadet Guard House, and at a signal on the trumpet a cadet private from each division of barracks, detailed for a week at a time, reports at the Guard House, gets the mail for his division, and distributes it to the proper rooms.

Note 4. In addition to demerits cadets receive other punishments for certain classes of offenses; these consist of confinement to room during release from quarters for a certain number of days, or, of walking (equipped as a sentinel) for a certain number of hours on certain days in the area of barracks.

CAMP McPHERSON

The Pleasure of your company is requested at the hops to be given by the Corps of Cadets every Monday Wednesday and Friday Evening during the encampment

MANAGERS

FOR THE FIRST CLASS

P. S. BOMUS. W. S. EDGERLY. S. WARREN FOUNTAIN. F. V. GREENE. OTTO L. HEIN. DEXTER W. PARKER. CLARENCE A. POSTLEY. W. R. QUINAN. EDWD G. STEVENS.

FOR THE THIRD CLASS

JAMES ALLEN. W H. CARTER. G. F. ELLIOTT. HARRY A. LANDON. J. A. RUCKER. W. F. ZEILIN.

West Point

N.Y. 5th July 1869.

CHAPTER IV.
THE PLEBE IN CAMP.

About two weeks after I reported we were directed to prepare to go to Camp McPherson, a half mile or so from Barracks, out beyond the Cavalry plain, near old Fort Clinton. We were told just what articles to take for use in camp, and that we must put the balance of our effects in our trunks and carry them to the trunk rooms in the angle. We sorted out our camp articles, and each cadet made a bundle of his small things, and used a comforter or a blanket to hold them. D⸺n, M⸺s, and I, having arranged to tent together, we helped one another store away our trunks. When the call sounded to “fall in” we fell in with our bundles, brooms and buckets, and marched over to the camp. There were trees all around the camp site, with quite a grove at the guard tents. The tents were all pitched and they looked very pretty through the trees, with the trees and green parapet of Fort Clinton as a background, which could be seen over the tops of the white tents as we approached the camp. The tent cords were not fastened to pegs in the ground, but to pegs in cross-pieces supported upon posts about four feet high, which brought the Company tents only four or five feet apart. All of the tents for cadets were wall tents, and each had a “fly” on it. There was a wooden floor, a gun rack, and a keyless locker (that is, a four-compartment long box), and a swinging pole hung about eighteen inches below the ridge pole of the tent, and nothing else in it. After the assignment, which, of course, was made according to rank, we proceeded to our respective tents, that were to be our homes till the 29th of August, the day to return to Barracks.

The “Yearlings” and first classmen, too, began to take a greater interest in the plebes than ever. They were anxious to teach them how to fix up their tents, and this is the way they did: “Come here, Plebe, and I’ll show you how to fix up your tent. Untie those bundles, fold the blankets once one way then once the other way; that’s it. Now pile them in the rear corner over there, farthest from the locker; put the folded edges to the front and inside; that’s not right, turn them the other way; now that’s right. Lay the pillows on the blankets, closed ends toward the locker; that’s it; now fold the comforters just like you folded the blankets, and pile them the same way on top of the pillows; that’s it. Why, you’re an old soldier, ain’t you? Straighten the pile a little, so that the edges are vertical; that’s it. Now hang the mirror up there on the front pole; that’s it. Put the washbowl out there against the platform, bottom outward; that’s it. Put the candle-box behind the rear tent pole. Put the white pants, underclothes, etc., in the locker. Throw the overcoats, gray pants, etc., on the pole. There, that’ll do. Say, wait a minute. When you go after water, why I want some; just set the bucket down there by the washbowl when you come back.” After having been given several lessons the plebes were permitted to fix up their own tents, and in a very short time every tent was ship-shape. The yearlings kindly showed the plebes how to clean rifles, too, and this is the way they did it: “Come here, Plebe, you’ll soon be getting your guns, so I’ll teach you how to clean yours; just get that gun over there in my rack; that’s the one; get the cleaning materials in the candle-box, take out a rag, put oil on it; that’s it. Lay the gun in your lap, muzzle to the left, half-cock the piece, open the chamber. Why, you’re doing well. See the rust in the breech block? Well, get a small stick out of the candle-box, put a bit of the rag over it, pour a little oil on the rag, now be quick, rub it on the rusty place, rub hard, elbow grease is what counts most, so don’t be afraid to use plenty of it,” and so on, till the yearling’s gun showed an improvement. “I’ll call you again soon to give you another lesson; that’ll do now.” Strange as it may appear, even the first classmen condescended to teach us some things, and even the cadet officers showed us how to clean their breast plates. The old cadets never told us, in so many words, to do anything of a menial character, but their broad hints and insinuating ways were very persuasive. Every day the plebes were called to the tents of the Army Officers in charge of cadet companies, and asked if they had any complaints to make against upper classmen, and the plebes invariably answered “No, sir.”

We continued to take our meals in the Mess Hall, and we marched to and fro as usual, but as the distance was a half mile or more we were now cheered en route (notwithstanding the plebes still carried palms to the front) by the inspiring music of fifes and drums; and we now sat at tables with the old cadets, and had the pleasure of pouring water for them before helping ourselves, no matter how thirsty we might be, but such is the life of a plebe, and it is a necessary part of his training.

The first day in camp we were initiated in police duty; the other classmen turned out with us, and, as usual, they did the talking and we did the work. The detail from each company had a wheelbarrow, a shovel, and a broom. The grounds, to us plebes, seemed clean when we began, but we got half a wheelbarrow load of dirt all the same, which we dumped into “police hollow,”[21] near camp and just west of Fort Clinton. We gathered up burnt matches, cigar stumps, tobacco quids, bits of paper, etc. Whenever there was a sign of rain we turned out and loosened tent cords, and after a rain we turned out and tightened them—always by command, of course. We dreaded the nights in camp, but we were not yanked often, unless we got too fresh or rapid, and then, of course, we had to be taken down.[22]

The parade ground was changed during camp from the grassy plain in front of Professor’s Row to the space between the guard tents and the west line of company tents. In fair weather the battalion stacked arms on the camp parade ground, and the colors were furled and laid on the center stack. The arms and colors, that is, the United States flag, were left there from after guard mount till 4 p. m., and a sentinel posted to require everybody crossing his post, which is known as the “Color Line,” to salute the colors by lifting the cap.

We plebes were very anxious to get guns, but after we did get them we wished we did not have them, for we were again put into small squads and drilled three times a day, notwithstanding the fact that our right arms were very sore, and each rifle seemed to weigh a ton, and, again, we had to spend several hours a day, for weeks, cleaning the guns before they would pass inspection. Each cadet knows his own gun by the number on it. The upper classmen had already taught us how to clean their guns, so we knew something about cleaning our own, and they now were considerate enough to allow us more time to ourselves, and some of the plebes finished cleaning their guns in less than an hour’s time. But, alas! at the first drill with arms the cadet instructors told them that their guns, cartridge boxes, and waist plates were very dirty. After drill we set to work on them again, but still they were said to be dirty. In the course of time we were told that our guns were passable, and later on that they were in fair condition. We soon learned to attend to them immediately after a rain, as it was easier to clean them then than after they had stood awhile.

We were kept busy at first complying with requests (?) of upper classmen, but they were very considerate and dispensed with our services long enough to let us attend drills three times a day, police service twice a day, and to other military duties. We were still required, both in and out of ranks, to carry palms of the hands to the front, but nothing more was said about depressing the toes.

Cadets are encouraged to be patriotic, and they always celebrate Fourth of July. This year, as the Fourth fell on Sunday, the exercises were held on the next day.

Note 1. At my time hazing, or deviling, consisted of little more than harmless badgering, which had the effect of reducing a possibly conceited or bumptuous youth to a frame of mind more consistent with the requirements of military discipline. In time, however, it developed into practices which it was deemed advisable to discontinue, and hazing has entirely disappeared from the Academy.

UNITED STATES MILITARY ACADEMY.

July 5th, 1869.

President,

Cadet E. E. WoodPennsylvania

Marshal of the Day,

Cadet J. RockwellNew York

PROGRAMME.

Overture.

Prayer.

Music.

Reading of the Declaration of Independence,

Cadet E. M. CobbCalifornia

Music.

Oration,

Cadet E. S. ChapinIowa

Music.

Benediction.

Music.

Plebe life was very trying, especially on H⸺e of my class, and he, being something of a poet, reduced his thoughts to writing, which he showed to his classmates. They said that he had expressed the situation very well, indeed. Some of the yearlings heard of H⸺e’s poetry, so he was persuaded (?) to read it to them, and then to sing it. His poetry was so well received by the yearlings that the first classmen wanted to hear it, too, so at their invitation (?) H⸺e both read and sang it for them. And, at the request of a number of upper classmen, he made copies of his songs for them. Other plebes were requested (?) to make copies of the copies, and the following are copies of H⸺e’s copies that were made for me by a plebe in my yearling camp, viz.:

THE BIG MENAGERIE.

Attention, all ye forlorn Plebes,

While the story I relate,

Of how I came to fall into

My present lost estate.

A moment only dry your tears

And listen unto me,

And I’ll describe my experience

In this big menagerie.

The first day that I reported

My heart was full of joy,

And to all intents and purposes,

I was a bully boy.

A stunner in my native town,

I thought I’d easily

Upon my muscle go right through

This big menagerie.

But, ah! full soon that fatal day

My crest began to fall,

And my spirits came down mighty fast

When I got to the Mess Hall.

My folly and my sauciness,

They soon took out of me,

And made me sing a different tune,

In this big menagerie.

They put me up in the window,

Attention made me stand.

And I had to dance and sing and speak

At everyone’s command.

I tried to run, but soon found out

That my rapidity

Was not the kind of game to play,

In this big menagerie.

The first time that I went on guard,

The night was dark as pitch,

They took my gun and then yanked me

Right in Fort Clinton’s ditch.

The Corporal I called aloud,

But not a step came he,

And then I learned another dodge

In this big menagerie.

But after all I’d been through,

They said I was not tame,

And that they would complete the cure,

By giving me another name.

They called me for some gay old cuss,

Who’d been dead a century,

And now I’m known as De la Rive,

In this big menagerie.

All day I police, scrub and drill,

Till my troubles make me weep,

And when the day, is over,

I’m denied the boon of sleep,

But all the night lie trembling,

From Taps to Reveille,

For fear I really will be yanked

In this big menagerie.

My frolics, joys and amusements,

Are all knocked into smash,

And pleasures all concentrated are

In eating Mess Hall hash.

And should I meet a lady fair,

I dare not speak to she,

That would be too fast for a Plebe,

In this big menagerie.

They call me beast and vile reptile,

And goodness only knows,

I’d rather be a kangaroo,

In one of those circus shows,

For all the real animals

Are happier far than we,

For they don’t have any squad drill

In their menagerie.

The lions, tigers, bears and wolves

Can never feel our woes,

For whoever heard of an elephant

Depressing his great toes.

And even the little monkeys

Are happy, gay and free,

And carry their hands just as they please

In their menagerie.

But soon this camp will end, and then

My troubles will be o’er,

I’ll drop the beast from off my name,

And sing this song no more.

But where’er I roam in years to come,

On land or on the sea,

I’ll ne’er forget my sufferings

In this big menagerie.

A PLEBE’S LAMENTATION.

Oh, Lord, will I never get done

A rubbing on this rusty gun.

Chorus—

I wish I was at home,

I wish I was there, too.

It makes me sigh, it makes me fret,

To clean this rusty bayonet.

Chorus—

And all day long, in rain or shine,

We’ve got these darned old tents to line.

Chorus—

There were a good many more verses to this song, and songs written by others of my class, but I have forgotten them.

Uniforms were issued to the plebes as fast as they were made, and in a few weeks all were uniformed. The only pocket in the whole suit was a watch pocket in the pants. We were permitted to carry a watch, but not a chain. Our handkerchiefs were tucked in the breasts of our coats. After getting uniforms we were sent to the trunk rooms to put away our cit clothes, as we were not allowed to keep them in either our tent or barrack room. In a few weeks the plebes were admitted to the battalion, at first to march to and from meals, and then for parades, but they still had to carry disengaged hands, palms to the front.

After supper we were permitted to bathe in the Hudson at Gee’s Point, and many of us availed ourselves of the privilege. As I have said, soon after reporting, I wondered if the old cadets laced. Well, now, when bathing, I discovered they did not lace. Still, I wondered why old cadets’ waists were so much smaller than plebes’ waists.

Every day, especially during guard-mount, parades, and band practice, there used to be many ladies and other visitors under the trees near the guard tents. The upper classmen seemed to enjoy being with them, but the plebes were seldom wanted there. The plebes used to hear that there were hops three times a week during camp, but that is about all they knew of hops. However, they went to the old fencing room in the Academic Building and took dancing lessons, and as no ladies were admitted they danced with one another.

At last the time arrived for us to go on guard, for there was a chain of cadet sentinels all around the camp. We dreaded our first night on post, but each plebe had to experience it. Our guns were not loaded, and we had no cartridges; the rifle with the bayonet on is all we had to protect ourselves with. It was amusing afterwards to compare notes of our experiences. Some who had boasted most fared the worst. Some had had their rifles taken away, some had been tied to a tree, some rolled down into Fort Clinton ditch[23] alongside of Posts No. 2 and No. 3. Others had been frightened by ghosts, or confused by numerous parties approaching at the same time from different directions. Some replies to the challenge being a band of Indians, a body of armed troops, and the Prince of Wales. Of course, the plebe would call for the corporal of the guard, but this official never got around in time to see anyone, except the sentinel. The poor plebe was then taken to task for allowing himself to be disarmed, or for not detaining parties till the corporal arrived. When questioned as to who the parties were the answer invariably was “I could not recognize any of them.” When the old guard marched off the next morning each member fired three shots at a target.[24] When it came M⸺s’ time to fire he was badly frightened because he had never fired a gun. And when asked why he did not close his left eye when aiming he said that no one had told him to close it.

On the 12th of August we again visited the trunk rooms, and this time to put away our dress coats, white pants, dress hats, etc., as we were to go on a campaign. A knapsack and a half of a shelter tent were issued to each cadet. After packing our knapsacks and getting everything, except our wall tents, in readiness, we fell in at the sound of the drum. Our wall tents were left standing with the walls fastened down and the flaps tied in front. To the time of “The Girl I Left Behind Me” we marched in a drenching rain about a dozen miles westward up into the mountains; halted, stacked arms, unslung knapsacks, and unloaded the big six-mule wagons that had followed us. We then pitched the “A” tents that were provided for our use now; we then dug a trench around each tent, and so as not to lie in the mud we cut boughs to sleep on. We then got our rifles and knapsacks, and were soon at home again, but this time in more contracted quarters. We were now taught to live at Camp Lookout in regular army style, and as there is no delinquency book in the army we had none in this camp. We ate army rations and slept on the ground. We built camp fires, sang songs, and otherwise enjoyed our freedom, for no one said anything about palms to the front out there in the mountains. The camp was in the woods, between Long Pond and Round Pond. We obtained drinking water from one, and utilized the other to wash and to bathe in. We remained out there about ten days, and each cadet learned to do guard duty in the woods. Members of the guard had to cut poles for their shelter tents, and button two or more pieces together for use at night, and they were needed, too, as it rained more than half the time we were in the mountains. Between rains, when not on duty, we roamed through the woods and over the hills. There were many laurel bushes all about us, and one day a first classman said that he wanted a nice root to make a pipe, and that I could get it with a hatchet and spade. I took the hint and dug about half a dozen good roots. I put the two best ones in the breast of my gray jacket and gave the others to the first classmen. I afterwards made myself two fine pipes, and I have one of them now. Years afterwards that first classman and I met, and the first thing I did was to show him my pet pipe and thank him for it. He admired the pipe and my cheek, too, for having kept the best root.

As soon as we returned to Camp McPherson palms of the hands were turned to the front again and the usual routine there resumed.

Some of the yearlings said that certain of the plebes had become “too fresh” out in the mountains, and as the ordinary methods would not tame them down a few fights in Fort Clinton were necessary. Seconds were chosen, and soon nearly every cadet in camp knew that there would be a fight in Fort Clinton on a certain day during the supper hour. Fort Clinton is just across Posts Nos. 2 and 3. Those who desired to witness a fight assembled at the ice water tank, near which the Posts of Nos. 2 and 3 meet. Then when the two sentinels on these posts were far apart and their backs toward one another (which is against the rule) across the posts would dash the Fort Clinton party, and strange to say neither sentinel would see any unauthorized person or persons cross his post. When the referee calls time the principals and seconds are in place and the fight begins. Fists only are used in these fights, and as soon as either side calls enough, or either principal fails to come to time, the fight is over. All return to camp, the bruises are bathed, and if necessary one or both principals go to the hospital, and the sick report the next morning shows one or two names with “contusions” as the cause of the disability. Unless the army officers on duty at the Point have “official knowledge” of a cadet fight no notice is taken of it. When a dispute arises that only a fight will settle and the parties to the dispute are unevenly matched the result may be one or two fights. The offending cadet must fight, and a classmate of the other cadet about his size and strength is selected to do battle with him. Sometimes the offended cadet must fight a man of his size, and then there are two fights.

I. O. C. B.

The pleasure of your company is respectfully solicited at a Hop Extraordinary, to be given on the evening of July 29th, under the auspices of the “Confirmed Bachelors” of the Class of 18—.

West Point, July 28, 1869.

We plebes were sent to the river a number of times to assist the first classmen to build pontoon bridges, and we rendered very valuable assistance, too, by carrying all heavy timbers used and helping to get the boats in place for the timbers to be laid upon them.

Note 1. Fort Clinton ditch, then along the north side of the camp ground, was filled up and that part of the parapet removed long ago, the major part of this fort being now used for an extension of the camp.

RETURN OF THE FURLOUGH CLASS.

There’s a stir in Camp, as all observers may see,

’Tis a moment of interest, a moment of glee.

The “Furloughs” are coming, and now must be near;

There is dust, there is shouting, the “Furloughs” are here.

We welcome you back to the Camp and the plain,

There your favorite “Tac” will drill you again.

The 28th of August is a day every graduate remembers, for it is then the furloughmen return. I can see them now rushing[25] into camp. That evening there was a great time out on the color line; we plebes were turned out for the last time to amuse upper classmen. H⸺e and others sang their songs. Some of them had been sung so often that everybody knew them and joined in. The evening was a perfect one, and there were many ladies under the trees near the guard tents, who heaved a sigh to think that all gayeties were over at West Point until the next June. The following are some of the songs that were so often sung during my cadet days, to-wit:

ARMY BLUE.

We’ve not much longer here to stay,

For in a year or two

We’ll bid farewell to “Cadet Gray,”

And don the “Army Blue.”

Chorus—

Army Blue, Army Blue,

We’ll don the Army Blue,

We’ll bid farewell to Cadet Gray,

And don the Army Blue.

To the ladies who come up in June,

We’ll bid a fond adieu,

And hoping they’ll be married soon,

We’ll don the Army Blue.

Chorus—

Now here’s to the man who wins “the cup,”

May he be kind and true,

And may he bring “our godson” up

To don the Army Blue.

Chorus—

BENNY HAVENS, OH!

Come, fill your glasses, fellows, and stand up in a row,

To singing sentimentally, we’re going for to go;

In the Army there’s sobriety, promotion’s very slow,

So we’ll sing our reminiscences of Benny Havens, Oh!

Oh! Benny Havens, Oh! Oh! Benny Havens, Oh!

So we’ll sing our reminiscences of Benny Havens, Oh!

Let us remember, comrades, when to our posts we go,

The ties that must be cut in twain, as o’er life’s sea we row,

Hearts that now throb in unison must moulder down below,

So let us take a parting cup at Benny Havens, Oh!

Oh! Benny Havens, Oh! etc.

To our kind old Alma Mater, our rock-bound Highland home,

We’ll cast back many a fond regret, as o’er life’s sea we roam,

Until our last battle-field the lights of heaven shall glow,

We’ll never fail to drink to her and Benny Havens, Oh!

Oh! Benny Havens, Oh! etc.

May the army be augmented, promotion be less slow,

May our Country, in her hour of need, be ready for the foe,

May we find a soldier’s resting-place beneath a soldier’s blow,

With space enough beside our graves for Benny Havens, Oh!

Oh! Benny Havens, Oh! etc.

Come, fill up to our Generals, God bless the brave heroes,

They’re an honor to their country, and a terror to her foes;

May they long rest on their laurels and trouble never know,

But live to see a thousand years, at Benny Havens, Oh!

Oh! Benny Havens, Oh! etc.

When you and I and Benny, and all the others, too,

Are called before the final board our course of life to view,

May we never “fess” on any point, but coldly “max” it through,

And join the Army of the blest, at Benny Havens, Oh!

Oh! Benny Havens, Oh! etc.

Note.—The following verses are from the 1909 Howitzer:

Then here’s to you, old glory team, that downs the strongest foes.

Your Benny Haven’s strongest sons, in you our hopes repose,

On the mountains by old Hudson’s shore, your deeds have been our theme;

But, victors or defeated men, you’re still the army team.

The brave old army team, the loyal army team,

The army’s hearts, the army’s hopes, are with the army team.

When you meet the rovers of the sea, and struggle hand to hand,

Remember, in that hour supreme we all behind you stand—

Let black recall our past defeats, the present struggle gray,

But victory is brightest gold, that you shall win that day.

The black, and gray, and gold, the black, and gold, and gray,

Yea! Victory shall be the prize, the black, and gold, and gray.

On the world’s rough-trampled gridiron, the battle-field of life,

Your spirit brave, old rock-bound home, shall nerve us in the strife.

Before us gleams the future, with manly parts to play,

While from the dim past stretches the unbroken line of gray.

Oh! the dear old gray battalion, the loyal line of gray,

Friend close to friend, firm to the end, shall stand the line of gray.

CHAPTER V.
THE PLEBE IN BARRACKS.

The next morning we took our bundles, buckets, and brooms to barracks, and upon returning to camp we unfastened the tent cords and held up the canvas by the poles, and, at the tap of the drum at 12 o’clock, every tent was lowered to the ground, and “Camp McPherson” was no more. We then “fell in,” and to the tune of “The Girl I Left Behind Me” marched to barracks, leaving the summer visitors standing under the trees near where the guard tents had been.

There were rooms enough so that every two cadets could have one together. Roommates having been chosen and rooms selected (according to rank, of course,) each cadet went to his own room, and there he found two single iron bedsteads and a double clothes-press. The old cadets got the balance of their effects (such as cadets are permitted to have in their rooms) from the trunk rooms, while the plebes got the articles they had there, and the balance, such as mattresses and tables, they went to the Commissary for, and carried them across the plain. Every one obtained at the Commissary the text-books he needed before Christmas, and by night all rooms were in order. The return to barracks is a great day for plebes, for then they quit carrying palms to the front.

The “Seps” arrived about this time, and those who were admitted were assigned to rooms, and they at once became a part of the fourth class. “Seps” are candidates, who, for some good reason, did not report in June. ([See appendix.]) They began recitations with the rest of the plebes, but for weeks they attended drill in squads by themselves. Notwithstanding the fact that Seps escape the many trials and tribulations of plebe camp, in escaping it, they miss one of the most valuable parts of cadet life, as it is an experience which most old graduates look back upon with pleasure. After having been through the course of deviling,[26] or hazing, as practiced in my day, I am a believer in the system, because I believe it makes young men manly and self-reliant. I never saw bodily injury inflicted upon a plebe, but I do not call bodily injury deviling. I call that cruelty, and cruelty should be severely punished. But times have changed at the Academy since I left it. Now after candidates have reported at the Adjutant’s office they are sent to the Army Officer in charge of new cadets. And it is his duty to personally instruct them respecting their rights and duties in their relations to old cadets and to the cadets on duty over them. He causes to be read to them the present regulations pertaining to new cadets and explains to them what is meant by “Cadet Limits.” Candidates are also informed that they must not submit to hazing, and that they must promptly report to the Commandant or to the Army Officer over them any attempt at hazing on the part of old cadets. But they must be respectful to all and perfectly subordinate and obedient to the cadets on duty over them.

No more shall Plebes be deviled,

And yearlings can’t be seen,

For there’s now a law against

Hazing the Plebes so green.

The penalties for hazing are very severe, and several cadets have been dismissed from the Academy for engaging in it. A recent act of Congress says: “Any cadet dismissed for hazing shall not be eligible to reappointment.”

White pants were very pretty for camp, but now that the hops were over and the visitors gone the cadets had to work, so on the first of September they appeared in their gray working clothes.

The daily routine from September 1st to about June 20th is as follows: Reveille at 5:45 A. M. (on Sunday at 6:30); roll call; police call five minutes after reveille; sick call fifteen minutes after reveille; then clean arms or study or take physical exercise; breakfast at 6:15; recreation except for the guard,[27] which is mounted, at 7:15; then study and recitations from 8:00 A. M. to 1:00 P. M.; dinner at 1:00; recreation; then study and recitations from 2:00 to 4:00; then generally military exercises for about an hour; then about half hour recreation, followed by retreat parade at about 6:00; supper; recreation; then study from about 7:30 to 9:30; taps at 10:00; then lights out till reveille the next morning. Rooms are inspected at police call; between 8 and 11 a. m.; 11 a. m. and 1 p. m.; 2 and 4; four times between 7:30 and 9:30; again at taps, and once more between taps and reveille. In September and May there are Infantry drills; in October and April there are Artillery drills; in every month from September first to June first there are Cavalry drills; from December first to April first there is exercise in the gymnasium or in dancing. Saturday afternoon is for recreation except between 2 and 2:30 during the weekly inspection of the battalion. On Wednesday after 4 p. m. there are no drills, the time being given for recreation. On Sundays there are no recitations and no military duties, except guard and inspection of quarters at 9:45 a. m., and the time for recreation is a little longer than usual; the cadets march to and from church; all wear white gloves, white belts and those entitled to do so swords, which (swords excepted) are not removed during service, some of the cadets are members of the choir. Visiting between cadets is allowed only during recreation hours.

The gymnasium is open to cadets daily, except Sundays, from 1:30 to 2 p. m.; 4:00 to supper mess parade, and on Saturdays afternoons and evenings until tattoo.

We were arranged into sections of from eight to ten cadets to the section, the arrangement of upper classmen being made according to class standing,[28] as determined at the last examination, while the arrangement of the plebes was alphabetical. The first cadet in each section was the section-marcher, that is, he marched the section to and from the section room. The section-marchers were notified what the first lessons would be, and the hours for recitations, and they then notified the members of their sections. The studies[29] for the fourth class were Mathematics and French, and in addition to these we had instruction in Fencing,[30] and for this the sections were larger than as stated above. One half the class attended recitations or fencing at a time, and the other half had to be in their rooms during Call to Quarters. To let the Inspectors know when cadets are at recitations the following form is used:

HOURS OF RECITATION.

Cadet __________________________ 4th Class.
MathematicsFrom8A. M.to9:30A. M.
Use of the sword, etc.From12M.to1P. M.
Modern LanguagesFrom3P. M.to4P. M.

Each cadet obtained a blank form (and there is a special form for each class), put his name on it in block letters, filled in his hours of recitation and put it on the mantel, and he also put his name in block letters over his alcove, on the orderly board, on his clothes-press, and on his gun-rack. Every cadet not in his room at inspection, and not at recitation at the time, was reported absent, unless his room-mate was in and could properly account for the absence. We at first thought that our studies, being so few, would be easy, but when we saw the great long lessons and had experienced the thoroughness required at recitations, we changed our opinions, and decided that much hard study was necessary.

Promptly at eight o’clock on the morning of September first, the bugle was sounded for sections to form. One half of each class “fell in.” The Cadet Officer of the Day commanded—“Front, Call your rolls.” Line was formed in the area of barracks, first classmen were nearest the Academic Building, next to them were sections of the second class, next third classmen and then the plebes. Each section-marcher facing his section, called his roll and faced to the front, then beginning with the ranking section of the first class, the section-marchers reported. The Officer of the Day then commanded “March off your sections.” If there were any absentees not excused, he hunted them up and sent them to their section rooms. The sections marched to the Academic Building, and each went to the room previously assigned, the members of each section hung their caps in the hall on hooks near the door and then filed into the room. The section-marcher took post near the center of the room, facing the instructor, who was seated on the platform opposite to the door. The members of the section went one half to the right, and the other half to the left, in front of two benches. The section-marcher saluted and reported, “All are present, Sir,” or, “Mr. ⸺ is absent, sir,” the instructor returned the salute and then the cadets sat down, the section-marcher taking seat on the right of the first half of his section. On a blackboard behind the instructor, was written the lesson for the next day, and each cadet noted it. The instructor then called Mr. ⸺, who took post in the center of the room facing the instructor. The instructor assigned to him a topic in the lesson, care being required on the part of the cadet to understand the topic which is called his “enunciation.” When he understood it, he went to a certain blackboard, and in the upper right hand corner wrote his name and number thus—Brown 1. The instructor called up another cadet who, after understanding his enunciation, went to the next board, and wrote his name and number, thus—Smith 2, and so on. Topics in the lesson of the day were assigned to the first four, and topics in the lesson of the day before were assigned to three or four others. Then one was called who took post in the center of the room, and the instructor questioned him for ten minutes or more upon such parts of either lesson that he elected, and when through said “That’ll do,” when this cadet returned to his seat. The cadets at the boards wrote on them such work as they wished pertaining to their own subjects and when ready to recite, each took a pointer in his right hand and stood at ease facing the instructor. Beginning with the cadet who was ready and had the smallest number, when he was called upon to recite the cadet, said: “I am required to” and then gave his enunciation, after which he proceeded in his own words. If the instructor was satisfied with the recitation, he said, “that’ll do” and the cadet faced about, laid down his pointer, cleaned his board, and took his seat; but if the instructor was not satisfied with the recitation, he asked such questions as he deemed proper to draw out, if possible, further information on the subject, and when through, said, “That’ll do.” This drawing out process is necessary with plebes, until they learn what is required of them in the way of recitations. No communication between cadets is allowed in the section room. When the time expired the instructor said, “That’ll do, gentlemen; section’s dismissed.” If the bugle was sounded before all had recited, those at the board who were ready to recite and had all necessary work on the board, were marked the same as if they had recited. The cadets filed out of the room, got their caps and “fell in,” then marched to the area where the line was formed and there the section was dismissed. The mark for a perfect recitation is a 3, 2.5 is a good mark, 2 is fair, 1.5 is medium, 1 poor, .5 very poor, and a zero a complete failure. Recitations go on every day except Saturday afternoons and Sundays. On Monday the marks of the previous week were posted so that the cadets could see them. The instructor never told the cadets what marks he gave them, and he could not excuse a cadet from recitation. A cadet who was sick enough to require it was taken into the hospital, or by the surgeon excused from reciting, but a cadet excused from reciting had to go to and remain in the section room, and there report to the instructor that he was excused. Nothing is gained by not reciting, because every cadet must make satisfactory recitations and pass the examinations[31] in January and June or be found deficient. At the end of the fifth or sixth week, and at times after that, transfers from one section to another were made, and some cadets were sent up and others down to other sections. By Christmas, the plebe class was pretty well dissipated by transfers.

Days, weeks and months passed with a firm, steady grind. In my day up at 5, but now 5:45 a. m., and nothing but study, recitations and drill till 9:30 p. m., except during the short half hour for recreation after each meal, the welcome half holiday on Saturdays and the change of routine on Sundays. No visitors at the Point, no hops, no nothing but hard study and drill to look forward to until the next June. It is true that Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s are always acceptable days to a cadet, but he generally eats so much turkey then, that he receives a poor mark at recitations the next day.

Not long before examination the instructor selects as many topics as there are cadets in his section and writes each topic on a separate piece of paper, turns them face down, mixes them, and then numbers them; number one being for the first cadet in the section, number two for the second, and so on, or otherwise mixes them so that no partiality be shown on examination.

Of course we could not study all of the time set apart for study, so we often devised ways and means to lighten our burdens.

All of our coats buttoned up to the chin and the white collars of my day were made so that we had to fold them lengthwise and pin them on the coat. As white shirts were not used to fasten the collar to we quit wearing them, and pinned our cuffs to the inside of the coat sleeves. We got the knack of dressing down to a fine point, no cadet wore suspenders then, so all we had to do for reveille or tattoo, was to jump into our pants, stick our feet into our oldest shoes, from which the strings had been removed, and called “reveilles,” put on the coat and cap to be worn and hustle, buttoning up just before going out of the hall-door. Two minutes gave us ample time to get from our rooms to the line in the area. Now the cadets are required to wear white shirts and the style of the white collar[32] having been changed it requires a white shirt to fasten it to.

A cadet generally carries his lead pencil stuck into his coat near the throat, but I made a little pocket on the underside of the tail of my dress-coat, just big enough for a little pen knife and a pencil an inch and a half long, and I never got “skinned” for it either. In my day, the last section was called “the Immortals” but I am told that the “Goats” have captured the name I once knew so well.

For many years, “Old Bentz” blew the bugle calls for recitations and mid rain or snow, he never missed a call, he blew it first on the north side of the Barracks, near the “Sally Port,” and then in the area. Many a cadet has stood at the blackboard, not ready to recite, praying for old Bentz to blow; once in a while he would succeed in “bugling it,” that is, avoid a recitation, but as the instructors have all been cadets themselves, the poor fellow was generally called upon to recite and got 1.5 or less for his pains.

A day or two after returning to barracks I was on post one evening in the hall of the old “sixth div.” when D⸺m, of my class, who lived in that “div.” passed through the hall with his coat unbuttoned. Of course I reported him for it. The next day the report was on the list of delinquencies read out to the battalion by the cadet adjutant. After supper that evening another classmate called on me and asked what I had against D⸺m, I said I had nothing against him and I wanted to know why he asked. He replied that D⸺m was very angry with me for having reported him for “coat unbuttoned in hall of barracks.” I was surprised and said that I had to report him or tell a lie to the officer or corporal of the guard. Up to that time D⸺m had not been on guard in barracks and he did not know the orders, so he consulted an upper classman about the report and learned that I had done my duty. Then he came to me and said, “I sent a friend to challenge you but find that you are right and I wrong, so I want to beg your pardon.” Had I not have reported D⸺m I would have gotten into serious trouble, because the cadets themselves have no use for a liar or a thief. As I have said the rooms of barracks are never locked, hence any cadet will promptly report another for stealing and the thief[33] is summarily dealt with by the authorities.

In barracks a sentinel is posted in each hall, and he walks post only during meal hours, evening call to quarters, and Sunday[34] call to quarters. When a relief is to be taken off post and no new sentinels are to be posted, such as after meals and at tattoo, the corporal of the relief on post, beginning at the first division hall, calls, “No. 1 Off,” marches him to the second division and calls, “No. 2 Off,” and so on until the eight sentinels are off, the relief is then marched to the guard house, and there dismissed. The spirit of deviltry used to crop out in the average fourth classman, as soon as his plebe camp was over, and he often laid awake at night devising ways and means for sweet revenge upon the next class or even upon the “Seps” of his own class, before they became acquainted with one another. One night a June plebe discovered that the sentinels on Posts 1, 2 and 3, were Seps of his own class, and that they were on guard for their first time. A happy thought came to this June plebe. He put on his overcoat, turned the collar up to hide his face, got his rifle, and just before time for the Corporal to take off his Relief at tattoo, this plebe took off the Relief himself. The first three sentinels being green Seps “fell in” without a suspicion of anything wrong, and the older cadets of the Relief knowing that it was about time to be relieved, also fell in. Just as the June plebe was approaching the guard house with the Relief, Lieutenant K⸺g saw the Corporal of this Relief in the guard house watching the clock, hence he knew that some devilment was up. The plebe saw that the Lieutenant saw him, so he fled to his room, with the Lieutenant after him and the members of the Relief ran back to their posts. The plebe was caught and he walked “extras” for many a Saturday afternoon for his fun; and the Corporal was reduced to the ranks for allowing his Relief to be improperly relieved.

Cadets do not salute one another except on occasions of ceremony prescribed by the regulations. Plebes address one another as Jones or Smith, but they say[35] Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith in speaking of them to an officer, or to an upper classman. In speaking to or of an officer, they use his title, but in speaking to or of an upper classman, they say[35] Mr. White or Mr. Black. Upper classmen address one another as White and Black, but they say Mr. White or Mr. Black in speaking of them to an officer or to a plebe. In speaking to or of an officer they use his title, but in speaking to or of a plebe, they say Mr. Jones or Mr. Smith. Officers in speaking to or of a cadet say Mr. Jones or Mr. White. Cadet titles are used only by the cadets having them, and then only in their permits and explanations, thus—Cadet Corporal, Cadet Sergeant, etc. Except officially, officers and cadets rarely speak to one another. At first it seemed very strange to recite to an officer for months, and to pass him on the plain without a friendly word being exchanged, the military salute being the only recognition. It is best that it is that way, as it avoids intimacy and favoritism.

When the first snow fell, I was greatly amused to see one of my classmates who had never seen it snow. He ran out into the area bare-headed (and was reported for being in the area without cap). He held out his hands and then opened his mouth to catch the flakes; it was a soft fine snow and melted as soon as it touched anything, so he could not catch any of the flakes, yet he could see them in the air and he appeared dumbfounded.

Now that we did not have to carry palms of the hands to the front we used to walk more about the post. I say walk, because we were not allowed to ride. We found our way occasionally to the Dutchwoman’s,[36] near the postoffice[37] (as no permits were needed to go there in my day), where cadets having a little change, or who, being out of debt, could get ice cream, cakes, pies, etc. On Saturday afternoons we went down “Flirtation Walk,” a beautiful stroll along the Hudson, or up to Cro’ Nest, the highest peak for miles around, or to old Fort Putnam, on a hill west of the Barracks, and once in a while to Kinsley’s orchard.[38] The only reason I can think of having gone to Kinsley’s is, that it was then “off limits,” and the Regulations said cadets caught off limits should be dismissed, or otherwise less severely punished. Christmas season had much in store for us. We received boxes of sweetmeats from home, we had a theatrical performance in the Mess Hall, and some of us, and I was one, had a three days’ “leave” from the Point. This leave was granted to cadets having not over six demerits for the past six months. But few cadets obtained leaves, and those who did were envied by the less fortunate fellows. Everybody enjoyed the boxes from home, because cadets are proverbially generous, and divide their good things with those who do not receive boxes. Many were “skinned” and given demerits for grease upon their floors after the boxes came. The cadets are not now permitted to receive Christmas boxes. An entertainment was given on New Year’s Eve, in the Mess Hall. A temporary stage was erected, and all of the actors, “actresses” and members of the orchestra were cadets.

A PARODY ON HOHENLINDEN.

At West Point, when the sun was low,

All spotless lay the untrodden snow,

And dark as winter was the flow

Of Hudson rolling rapidly.

But West Point saw another sight.

Loud groans were heard at dead of night,

And plebeians howled with wild affright,

Whilst dreaming of Geometry.

’Twas morn, but on that luckless day

The morning brought no cheering ray,

To pierce the mist of Algebra,

Or clear it of perplexity.

In glittering armor, bright arrayed,

Each teacher drew his battle blade,

And furious each plebeian made,

To witness such pomposity.

Then shook the hills with thunder river,

As each plebe to the blackboard driven

Despairing of all hopes of Heaven,

In view of his deficiency

And fainter still his hopes did grow,

When he received a big zero;

His throbbing bosom rent with woe,

The tears came railing rapidly.

“Immortals” falter! On! ye brave!

Who rush to glory or the grave,

Wave! plebeians; All thy banners wave!

And charge that Trigonometry.

The lesson o’er—the hovering cloud

Hath burst in torrents, wild and loud,

And buried in one common shroud

The essence of stupidity.

The “found” shall part, no more to meet,

For Math has been their winding sheet,

And every “hash” they now shall eat

Brings curses to the memory.

Programme
OF THE
Entertainment Given by the
U. S. Corps of Cadets,
NEW YEAR’S EVE., 1869
WEST POINT.

OvertureOrchestra

PART I.
PADDY MILES, THE LIMERICK BOY.

(A drama of Corinthian lightness.)

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

Paddy MilesCadet Shortelle
(The Greek.)
Dr. CoatesCadet Wood
(Spooney and Fidgety.)
Henry, his sonCadet Cobb
(No joke here.)
Job, a gardenerCadet Guard
(Biles with rage.)
ReubenCadet Hall
(Randy—O! High.)
Mrs. FidgetCadet Paddock
(See joke on Dr. Coates.)
JaneCadet Fornance
(The Girl of the period.)
Guitar DuetCadets Evans and Harrington
MusicOrchestra

PART II.
DARK TRAGEDY OF OTHELLO, THE MOOR OF VENICE.

OthelloCadet Davis
(Ye Swarthy Moor.)
DesdemonaCadet McDonald
(As was gone back on.)
BrabantioCadet McGinniss
DukeCadet “Doylle”
Senators, Assassins, Collectors of Internal Revenue, etc., by the Company.
MusicOrchestra

PART III.
THE LIGHTSOME FARCE OF GRIMSHAW, BAGSHAW AND BRADSHAW.

Peter GrimshawCadet Williams
(Christened Peter after his Aunt Sarah.)
John BagshawCadet Goddard
(“Trust him not.”)
BRADSHAW!!!Cadet Fountain
(Bastante dicho—“wich” it is Spanish.)
TowserCadet Wood
(Characteristics: Heart flinty, Conchoidal fracture.)
Fanny, a millinerCadet Townsend
(A-lass! not a Millionaire.)
Emily, Towser’s nieceCadet Birney
(Same at same.)
MusicOrchestra

PART IV.
“DARKER HERE.”

MINSTRELS, BY THE CADET BAND.

1.

Overture, “Les Dames de Seville,”Cadet Band
The Bell Goes Ringing for SarahSolo and Chorus
Linda PolkaCadet Band
Little Maggie MaySolo and Chorus
We Parted by the River SideCompany
SelectionCadet Band
Clog DanceCadet Bassett

2.

SelectionsCadet Band
Fairy MoonlightQuartette
West Point Polka and SelectionCadet Band
My Christmas LeaveSolo
Et Bonde CryllupCadet Band
Rootle Tum Tootle Tum TaySolo and Chorus
Galop MilitaireCadet Band

NO HURDLES.

“GENERAL REGULATIONS.”

Those unable to secure seats will be permitted to visit the Guard-house, where they will find amusement during the entire entertainment in the perusal of the delinquences posted there.

In consideration of the almost perfect disguise which may be effected through the magic agency of burnt cork, by which even the dignified features of our Professors can be effectually concealed, we would enjoin upon the audience a respect for gravity during the minstrel performance; and the managers would take this opportunity of thanking the “Heads of Departments” for the very affable manner in which they have consented to contribute, by their Terpsichorean and Ethiopian efforts to the evening’s amusement.

Owing to the probability of the hall being inspected by the “Officer in charge,” after the Battalion has returned to Barracks, the managers earnestly solicit the destruction of all vestiges of this “Feast of reason,” as it is not mentioned on the “Cadets’ Bill of Fare” for this date. First classmen are recommended to preserve the “Flow of soul” for use to-morrow, in case the Superintendents may not be pleased to release them from “pledge.”

The managers respectfully call attention to their endeavors to produce that long desired “mean” equally removed from “Corinthian lightness, and Egyptian massiveness.”

Should the performers attempt to “consume time,” or the enthusiasm of the audience be kindled to such an extent as to create apprehension for the safety of the building, the services of the Fire Department, under the able management of its efficient “Chief Engineer,” will be called into requisition—(provided the nozzle can be found.)

MANAGERS:

The semi-annual examination commenced right after New Years and when the class standing[39] was announced, about thirty cadets were found deficient, and discharged. At least half the deficient ones were in my class, and the balance in the other three classes. Those near the foot of my class, who passed, but about whom doubts had been entertained as to their ability to get through, were now furnished with warm cloth overcoats of the regulation cadet gray. The sections were rearranged according to the standing determined by the examinations, text books for the next five months were drawn, lessons assigned and studies resumed. Shortly after our class standing had been published, the class was sent to the Library, where we again took the oath of allegiance, and in due time afterwards each fourth classman received his “cadet warrant.”

The plebes now began to make the best show they could both about their rooms and in their personal appearance. Those who could do so procured curtains[40] for the windows, alcoves and clothes presses, all turkey red, of course, as that was the regulation color. When they got new clothes, they were particular about the fit, especially of the dress coats, as their waists had grown more shapely, caused by wearing close fitting clothes and belts, which required the chest and not the abdomen to be used for breathing. They had their old dress coats made smaller in the waist, too.

Cadets having a taste for music were permitted to have such musical instruments as banjos, guitars and flutes, and during “release from quarters” they could practice. Musical spirits were soon brought together, and after the players became proficient they attracted attention. Aside from those who played upon instruments, there were some who had very good voices. When pleasant spring evenings came, the musicians would often assemble on one of the front steps of the Barracks and their sweet music and songs attracted all other cadets. Often would the officers, their ladies and the few visitors at the Point at that season of the year, stroll near the cadet Barracks to hear music and songs, and even Old Bentz would look at his watch a dozen times and wait till the last second to sound “Call to Quarters.” One evening, Christine Nilsson, the famous “Swedish singer,” who was visiting the Point, was so attracted by the singing of the cadets that she consented to sing for the whole corps on condition that the cadet quartette would sing for her. Her proposition was accepted and the Mess Hall was used for the purpose. Of course we were charmed by her sweet voice and she complimented the quartette, too, and Cadet W⸺r in particular. Miss Nilsson told him that he ought to cultivate his voice and that if he would resign she herself would pay for his musical education in Europe. Cadet W⸺r thanked her for her generous offer, but declined to accept it. Miss Nilsson then said that the cadets must pay for her singing, and that she would make the collection at once. She was promptly informed that cadets were not allowed to have money, and that they did not even have pockets in their clothes. She replied every cadet had with him that which she wanted, namely a bell-button, and she was particular about the one too, and said, “I want the spooney button, the one from over the heart.” She produced a string and we filed past her and each cadet gladly paid her price. The officers present on this occasion neglected their duty for not reporting every cadet, for “a button off dress coat in Mess Hall.” About once a month on Saturday evenings during the winter the band gave orchestra concerts at which cadets could be present.

TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

Know ye, That the PRESIDENT has been pleased to appoint ________________ a CADET in the Military Service of the UNITED STATES, to rank as such from the __ day of ________ 18__. He is therefore to be received with all the consideration attached to such appointment.

Given under my hand at the WAR DEPARTMENT, this __ day of ________, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and ____, and of the INDEPENDENCE OF THE UNITED STATES the ________.

____________
Secretary of War.

One day, S⸺s, one of my classmates, took sick with typhoid fever, and was confined to bed in the hospital for weeks. We took turns sitting up at night with him. When he became dangerously ill, his parents were notified, and they came at once and were with him some days before he died. An order was published announcing his death, and the loss of a valuable member of the corps, and directed as a mark of respect to his memory, that all cadets should wear the usual badge of mourning; that is, a four-inch band of black crape around the left arm, above the elbow, for a period of thirty days, and that the flag should be at half-staff on the day of the funeral. The pallbearers were chosen from his class and the funeral services held in the little chapel. The coffin was carried from the chapel, arms were presented, the band played an appropriate air, and then the coffin was laid upon an artillery caisson draped with the stars and stripes. We marched to solemn music, with “arms reversed,” to the beautiful little cadet cemetery just outside of the north gate overlooking the Hudson at the foot of the highest peak of the Highlands. Upon reaching the grave, line was formed facing it, and the coffin placed over it; arms were again presented and the band played another solemn air; the body was then lowered to its last resting place. We stood with bowed heads at rest on arms, while the Chaplain conducted the services at the grave. We then fired three rounds of blank cartridges and returned to barracks. After leaving the cemetery, we came to “right shoulder” arms, and marched to a quick step. During my day the corps of cadets attended a great many funerals, and among them were those of three of our professors, two or more cadets, and a number of old graduates of the Academy.

We fourth classmen now began to talk of June first, the day on which we would become yearlings and be admitted to the corps on equality with the other classmen; of the dropping of the Mr., of the shedding of our “plebe-skins” and how that great event should be celebrated; of how we would treat the next class, of which of us would be made corporals, of the hops, of the ladies who come up in June, and of other topics of vital interest to fourth classmen. At a class meeting we selected six hop managers, six being our share for the summer hops, and we selected them by ballot. There were no nominations, it having been decided that the six receiving the greatest number of votes should be elected, and I was not one of the six. About the twenty-fifth of May D Company vacated its quarters and they were put in order for the candidates, who reported in my day between the first and tenth of June; then they reported later in June, after the cadets had gone into camp. Now new cadets report March 1st.

The academic year practically closed on the 31st of May, and on the next day the battalion was to again appear in its summer clothes; that is, in white pants and gray coats. White pants are the forerunners of the many changes to soon occur at the Point; a class to be graduated, another to go on furlough, and the other two, with a new class added to the corps, to go into camp; the members of the Board of Visitors[41] and hundreds of other people to arrive, some to witness the graduating exercises, old graduates to attend their alumni meeting, others to see relatives in the corps, and still others to attend the summer hops. But with all these and other pleasures in store for the cadets about a dozen of the plebes were not satisfied. They knew that on the morrow candidates would begin to report, and that then they themselves would shed their plebe-skins, drop the Mr. and be full-fledged “yearlings.” In order to mark this great event in the life of a cadet at West Point we had months before decided upon doing something that no other yearlings had done. Away back in April, while at light battery drill, we “hived” some powder, by taking a little from a dozen or more cartridges, and we also “hived” some friction-primers. The night of May 31st was cloudy and hazy, which just suited us, and the tactical officers favored us by inspecting every room before midnight. At about half-past eleven we tied the handle of the angle door to an upright of the porch and fastened a rope to the posts at the head of the angle porch stairs, and then went one at a time out to the “reveille gun” that stood near execution hollow away out on the plain. We loaded that gun and then put in it all of our old socks and rammed the charge well. Some of our trusty party got cannon balls at Trophy Point and joined the others at the gun. We then wheeled the gun near the gravel walk in front of the barracks, and one of our party went on the grass to the right and another to the left. These two then made noises that attracted the attention of the two engineer sentinels posted at night on the gravel walk, and signaled that our coast was clear. We then rushed across the walk through the Sally Port and fired that gun in the area. At the same time the cannon balls were rolled along the porches in rear of barracks, then we hastened to our rooms, undressed and went to bed to await developments. Oh, what a dandy report that gun made; it shook the barracks and other buildings, too, and shattered windows all around. The cannon balls were also a great success, for they made a horrible rumbling sound. We awoke everybody. Lieutenant M⸺l was “officer in charge,” and we soon heard him tugging away at the angle door and then stumble against the clothesline that we had so thoughtfully put up for his special benefit. He called the “drummer orderly,” who slept in the guard-house and had long roll sounded. He questioned the cadet officers, but, of course, they knew nothing; then, as he himself had been a cadet, he made the new-born yearlings fall in and told them that the outrage had been committed by some of them, and that the guilty ones should be punished. He then said that all who had not taken part in the disgraceful affair could fall out and go to their quarters; the guilty ones trembled in their shoes, but soon recovered, for not a man fell out. The night was raw and chilly, but there the Lieutenant made us stand, first at attention, then at parade rest and then at attention again. The innocent were once more told to fall out, but not a man moved. We were then put into the guard-house and several of us obtained permission to go to our rooms for overcoats. Line was re-formed and B⸺ly directed to call the roll. I was in my own room at this time and could see and hear what was going on in the area. I knew that B⸺ly had not called the class roll for months, so I staid in my room and listened to the roll-call, and when I discovered that I was not reported absent I went to bed. Lieutenant M⸺l then marched the yearlings out on the cavalry plain and drilled them at double time for several hours. He stood still some times and marched the class around him, and as he was not always near enough to distinguish one yearling from another in the dark there were many blunders purposely made in ranks, and this made him furious. After awhile Colonel B⸺k, the Commandant, put in his appearance, and then the class behaved all right, but it was kept at drill till near breakfast time. Before being dismissed Colonel B⸺k told the innocent ones to fall out, but not a man left the ranks. The class was then dismissed, and in a few minutes the battalion was formed for breakfast, and, of course, I fell in then. Before marching to the Mess Hall an order was published confining all members of the fourth class, except one who was in the hospital, to the area of the barracks until further orders. Some of the class had relatives and friends at the Point, and the confinement was hard on them, because cadets in confinement cannot see their friends for longer than half an hour, and then only in the visitors’ room in the guard-house.

A salute of seventeen guns was fired by a detail of cadets in honor of the arrival of the Board of Visitors. There was much of interest now at the Point for the Board and others to see. Beginning with guard-mount now after parade, then oral examinations from 9 to 4 followed infantry, artillery or cavalry drill, and the day closing with dress parade at sunset. The rear view of the cadets marching at double time, to or from dress parade, out on the grassy plain is a beautiful sight, especially when white pants are worn, for then the wavy motion of the handsome uniforms with the black shoes alternating against the white pants and the green grass once seen is a sight never forgotten. In the evening the cadets, except those in confinement, and their friends could be together for an hour or two at the hotel or at some of the officers’ quarters, provided, of course, that the cadets had “permits.” Not to speak of a handsome display of fireworks on one evening and the graduating hop on another. During all these festivities, which lasted about three weeks, the cadets and candidates were undergoing rigid examinations,[42] and at which many failed. Lists of the successful ones were announced, the graduates and furloughmen left and the others went into camp. Some of the “found” were turned back to join the next class, while the others were discharged.

On the morning after we had fired the gun in the area Colonel Black sent for me, showed me one of my own slippers and told me that it had been picked up that morning on the walk in front of the barracks, and as it had my name in it he wanted me to explain how the slipper got out of my room. I told him that I didn’t know, as the last time I had worn or seen it was on the previous evening before taps. He did not ask me if I had taken part in the “disgraceful” affair. All of his questioning could get nothing more out of me, because I told the truth. I afterwards learned how the slipper did get out on the walk. When D Company vacated its quarters for the new class C⸺y came over to room with L⸺t and me, and unbeknown to me he had worn my slippers, and as he was one of the two cadets chased by the engineer sentinels he lost it, and then for fear that he and I might both be caught he did not mention the fact to me until after my return from the Commandant’s office.

Three of my class were turned out over new cadets, and others of the class detailed to help drill them, and when the new list of corporals was published I had the pleasure of writing home that I was one of the few yearlings to wear chevrons.

After the publication of the new lists of class standing I called upon one of the unfortunates to express regret that he had not passed. He seemed to be very indifferent about having been found, and said that, after a long search on his “family tree,” he had on that day made the fortunate discovery that he was the nineteenth cousin of Queen Victoria!

While in confinement Casey wrote a song commemorating the firing of the gun in the area, and the song was very popular in my day. The following is my version of it:

WHO FIRED THAT GUN IN THE AREA?

In eighteen hundred and ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

Some plebes went out on the plain so free,

Played the mischief generally,

And fired the gun in the area.

They locked them up in the old guard-house,

And bade them be as still as a mouse;

They whooped and yelled and kicked about,

And fired the gun in the area.

They made them at the attention stand,

With rifles held all tight in the hand,

But no one “peached” on any man

Who fired the gun in the area.

Then Gussie M. said: “Oh, don’t you see

There’s no use of your fooling with me?

I’ll make you stand till ‘Reveille’

For firing gun in the area.

“And if you rascals don’t all be still,

Of punishment you shall have your fill—

I’ll take you on the plain to drill

For firing gun in the area.”

He marched them round at the double time—

Egad! that drill it was very fine;

From everything they took the shine,

And fired the gun in the area.

This man he got into such a state

That ev’ry plebe he wanted to ate,

And said they were insubord’nate,

And fired the gun in the area.

Then Harry B. just raves and hollers,

“Leave them alone, the bad young bothers;

Confine them till further orders,

For firing gun in the area.”

Yearlings the plebes all became that day,

And paid the price for being so gay

After midnight the last of May,

For firing gun in the area.

Note 1. Now only those cadets are examined whose average marks fall below a certain figure, which may be different for different subjects. For changes and improvements see Chapter IX, the articles by Colonels Tillman and Larned.

Note 2. A change has been made since the text was written so that the white collar is not buttoned to the shirt, but is fastened to the inside of the collar of the coat by means of three metal clasps.

Note 3. Such a thing as stealing is rare among the cadets.

Note 4. Sentinels are now posted from shortly after the return of the battalion from supper until 9:30 p. m. only.

Note 5. The Dutch woman left the post in 1875, and the confectionery or store is now in a brick building about 200 yards north of the brick cottage she occupied.

CAMP GEO. H. THOMAS.

The Pleasure of your company is requested at the hops to be given by the Corps of Cadets every Monday Wednesday and Friday evening during the encampment.

Managers.

West Point N. Y.

22d June, 1870.

CHAPTER VI.
THE YEARLING.

When we marched into camp again at the old site, which was this year named “Camp Geo. H. Thomas,” the yearlings were perfectly happy. We enjoyed the society of the plebes for awhile, but soon tired of that. We had been under such a strain during the previous year that we needed a rest, and we had it, too, as there was not much required of us for the first month. We seemed to need sleep, and we slept in the morning, again in the afternoon and all night, too. After we were rested we loitered under the trees near the guard tents during guard-mounts and band practice and mingled among the numerous summer visitors at the Point; to get acquainted was not difficult, as some of the visitors had relatives or friends in the corps, and, moreover, people get acquainted easier at a resort or a dance than almost anywhere else. Some of the yearlings never missed a hop, and there were three of them a week, from 8 to 11 p. m. Others of us who were not proficient in the art took dancing lessons occasionally, but generally found our pleasure in boating and in being with the ladies, or with one another, listening to the music; in promenading on “Flirtation Walk,” or calling at the hotel. We idled away the whole summer, and it did us good, for, when we returned to barracks, we were ready for study again. I don’t want to be understood that we had nothing to do during camp, because many hours were spent at drill, at inspections and on guard, just enough to keep us active and healthy.

On pleasant days when not on duty we often strolled on “Flirtation Walk,” that beautiful path winding through the trees and rocks between the camp site and the river to watch passing steamers or to see the objects of interest along this walk. There are some links of a huge chain on “Trophy Point” between Professor’s Row and the hotel that was floated on logs across the Hudson during the Revolutionary War from Gee’s Point at the big bend of the river to Constitution Island[43] near the village of Cold Springs on the east side of the Hudson. We used to examine the place near the lighthouse on Gee’s Point, where one end of this chain was fastened and wonder what effect such an obstruction would be to the gunboats of to-day. At other times we would linger about Kosciuszco’s Monument, a little south of Gee’s Point, and quench our thirst at the same spring that this noble Pole drank from more than a century ago when he built Fort Clinton—that is, nearby on the plain—while at the same time General Putnam constructed the numerous other fortifications on the neighboring hills. Then we would visit Battery Knox, near Kosciuszco’s garden, to see the beautiful view down the Hudson that this work commands, or go to see still another handsome view up the Hudson from Trophy Point or Siege Battery at the north, or rather the west end of Flirtation Walk. Battery Knox, and Seacoast, Siege and Mortar batteries are of comparative recent origin and were built by the cadets. There are many monuments, aside from those in the little cemetery, that have been erected at salient points about the grounds to heroes who freely sacrificed their lives in the cause of freedom. Some of those brave men shed their blood to give birth to our republic, others to wrest territory from the Indians or from Mexico, and still others that our Union might live. Then there are cannon and other relics of war on Trophy Point and in the “museum” that are silent teachers for all who see them. The very air about this historic spot teaches love of country, and the cadets absorb much valuable information that is not taught in the section room.

Cadets who were popular with the ladies often used to pin the “spooney buttons” on their coats, and when a cadet gave his spooney button to a young lady this act was equivalent to saying that she was the favored one.

“The ladies—may Heaven bless their faces!

They come here in summer sweet,

Each being loaded with graces,

And all have cadets at their feet.”

Lieutenant K⸺g was a popular tactical officer and quite a ladies’ man. He liked music, and at band practice he often requested the leader to play “Shoo Fly,” and so often that the cadets noticed it, and called him “Shoo Fly,” not to his face, of course, but among ourselves. Clara G⸺e, a little six-year-old girl, was a frequent visitor at camp, and she was a great admirer of Cadet W⸺e. One day he was officer of the guard and I was corporal of the guard. During dress parade my post was near the first guard tent facing the battalion, and it was my duty to see that visitors kept back of a certain line. Little Clara was out to see the dress parade, and, as Cadet W⸺e was at the guard tents, she was near him. W⸺e called me, and then told little Clara just when and where to go and what to say. There were many visitors present that evening. I took my post, and in a few minutes Lieutenant K⸺g stepped a dozen or so yards in front of me and of the line of visitors preparatory to taking post as officer in charge of the parade. Just then little Clara ran out in front of the visitors’ line, and in a loud voice called: “Lieutenant K⸺g! Oh, Lieutenant K⸺g!” which, of course, attracted everybody’s attention, and then she said, “What do they all call you ‘Shoo Fly’ for?”

One day four young ladies came to camp, and four of us yearlings met them under the trees at the guard tents. The ladies wanted us to take them out boating, and as they knew cadets had no way of providing refreshments, they themselves had brought baskets of cake and fruit. Knowing that our quartette could be absent from camp for several hours we picked up the baskets and started. Attached to our boathouse[44] there was an inclined and also a floating dock, all fastened together, so that the two docks would rise and fall with the water in the river. The floating dock had been covered with water so often that it was quite slippery, and we cautioned the young ladies about it. While we were carrying our boat from its place in the boathouse one of the young ladies ran down the inclined dock, and the moment she stepped upon the floating dock she slipped and sat down in a half inch of water. Her sister (for there were two sisters in the party) ran to her rescue, and she, too, sat down in the water. We knew nothing of the mishaps until the sisters were just getting upon their feet; then we suggested another day for the trip, but they said no, as everything was ready now we must go. All got in the boat and off we went. We rowed across the river under the bridge and landed (off limits) in the woods on the east side of the Hudson. The ladies said that they would prepare lunch, so the yearlings left them to themselves for a while. Upon our return a dainty lunch was spread upon the grass, and we all fell to with a relish, and then started upon our return to the camp. We observed that the ladies insisted upon carrying the baskets and to hold on to them while in the boat; this, of course, excited our suspicions, and we found out that the baskets contained the sisters’ laundry.

It was the rule for a corporal to march the sick of his company to the hospital at sick-call at 6:30 a. m., and as there were not many sick the custom sprang up in the corps for one corporal to take the sick-report books of all four companies to the hospital when there were no sick. So one morning near the close of Yearling Camp, when there were no sick in my company to go to the hospital, a corporal of another company took my sick-report book, and as luck would have it I was reported for “Neglect of duty, not taking sick-report book to the hospital,” and for this I was reduced to ranks, but soon afterwards I was appointed a “marker” for battalion drill, a very pleasant duty. The summer soon passed, the furlough class returned, we struck tents and our yearling camp was over.

Back to barracks we went, donned our gray pants, drew text books,[45] posted our hours of recitation and began the school work for another year.

Cavalry drill is a part of the course in each of the last three years, and the yearlings always hailed the day when they could begin cavalry drill, and at last the time came for us. The class was divided into two platoons, and a platoon at a time sent to the Riding Hall.[46] When my platoon marched into the hall we were all disappointed, for, instead of finding our horses ready saddled, they were not saddled at all. We were marched in front of the line of horses, which were being held by cavalry soldiers, the yearling on the right of the line was instructed to take the first horse, the next yearling to take the next horse, and so on to the left. The horses were bridled and had blankets on them, held in place by surcingles. Captain B⸺s explained to us how to mount, and then ordered us to mount. Some of us had no trouble in mounting, but it was very amusing to see others who had never been on a horse; it took them a long time to get on, notwithstanding the drill we had had in the gymnasium.[47] It was found that a real horse was different from a wooden horse. After all were mounted the position of the soldier, mounted, was explained to us, and our faults corrected. We were then dismounted, then mounted again. So much time was taken up in explaining details and in mounting and dismounting and correcting errors that the whole hour passed in that way. The next day we did get to ride, but for only a few minutes, and at a walk then. As the days came we rode longer each time, but always at a walk for weeks. Then came the slow trot, and it was fun to see some of the yearlings fall off, but as we had been so well drilled in mounting they were soon on again. That first day at the slow trot we all got very sore. Many of the horses were hard trotters, and many a yearling had chafed legs. I remember seeing several of my class who suffered a great deal, so much that for a time the blood ran down on their shoes. We were taught to saddle and unsaddle, to fold the saddle blanket, to bridle and unbridle, to ride with saddles, first at a walk, then a trot and then at a gallop. We were then taught to ride with a sabre and then given sabre exercises, and then the use of the pistol, then without saddles to mount and dismount, first at a walk, then at a trot, then at a gallop and then at the full speed of the horse; then to jump hurdles, then to jump a hurdle, dismount, mount and jump another hurdle, the horse going at full speed; then to use the sabre, cutting at leather balls, called heads, one on a post, one on the ground and another on a post; then to jump a hurdle and with the sabre to catch a ring at the same time from a string suspended near the hurdle, then to cut a head on the ground, then one on a post and then to jump another hurdle, catch another ring and take another head. We were also taught the various platoon movements, and occasionally on pleasant days we were taken out for long rides into the country.

Visitors at the Point often wanted to see how the cadets lived, and when they went about it right, i. e., made the acquaintance of certain tactical officers, their requests were sometimes granted. Lieutenant K⸺g came to my room one morning after he had made his regular inspection and said that he had wanted to bring some visiting ladies and gentlemen over to see my room, but from the looks of things he thought it inadvisable. I replied that all would be in order in a few minutes, and when ready I’d go to the hall door, where he could see me. To this he assented. My room at that particular time was in bad order. O’C⸺r and I had our guns apart and cleaning materials and rags scattered about the floor, and worse, two of our classmates who lived across the hall from us brought their chairs to our room, and we four were playing whist, but Lieutenant K⸺g was good enough not to notice our visitors or cards, and he did not report us. In a few minutes all was in order, and I went to the hall door as a signal. In a few minutes more Lieutenant K⸺g arrived with, the visitors; they wanted to see our guns, but fearing criticism he made an excuse that they were all alike. O’C⸺r and I at once got our rifles and the Lieutenant was amazed to see them in fine condition. Afterwards he told us that he did not know how we put things in shape in such a short time.

One pleasant Saturday afternoon a party of young ladies arrived with baskets of refreshments to meet a party of yearlings for a trip to “Cro’ Nest.” As I was the only one of the yearlings not “on punishment” or “in confinement” I met the young ladies, explained the situation and said that the trip would have to be postponed. They replied that as two of the young ladies were to leave for New York on Monday next they were determined to go to Cro’ Nest at once, and that if I would not go that the ladies would go alone. Seeing that they were determined to go I went with them. We climbed to the top of the mountain and had a good view, as Cro’ Nest is near the top of the highest peak around. The mountain is covered with timber, and after leaving the top it was hard to tell just where we would find our way down. Unfortunately, we reached the foot of the mountain at a point on the Hudson where the bank was about vertical, and so high that we had to climb more than half way up again to get down on the other side of that ridge. This consumed so much time that when we reached the Dutchwoman’s it was after 10 o’clock at night. Alfred, the Dutchwoman’s son, was there, and we sent him for Lieutenant K⸺g to take the young ladies to Cold Springs, where some of them lived and the others were visiting. Cold Springs was off cadet limits, hence I could not risk going there, when I knew I had been reported absent from dress parade and from quarters, so I bade the young ladies adieu and reported with as little delay as possible to the cadet officer of the day, who had made search for me and was about to send a detail to hunt for me. Immediately after breakfast the next morning I went to the Dutchwoman’s, saw Alfred and learned that he had found Lieutenant K⸺g in ample time to catch the last ferryboat at 11 p. m., but that the Lieutenant waited to finish a game of billiards he was playing at the officers’ mess,[48] and he arrived with the ladies at the North Landing just in time to see the last ferryboat beyond call. The party then went to the Engineer Barracks, a half mile or more distant, got a large engineer boat, and Lieutenant K⸺g himself rowed the young ladies across the Hudson to Cold Springs, and did not return until after reveille the following Sunday morning. I hastened back to my quarters and worked hard on my gun in preparing my room for inspection (for I was room orderly that week), for I felt that the Lieutenant would be especially careful with me at inspection, and so he was, but he could find nothing to report me for. After inspecting my room he said, “Mr. R⸺d, you had quite an adventure yesterday?” I replied, “Yes, sir.” He then asked: “Did the young ladies get home safely?” and I answered, “You ought to know more about that than I do, sir.” He left the room, banged the door and accepted my explanation for my absence the day before.

Before we could realize it Thanksgiving came and went, Christmas and the boxes of sweetmeats arrived, and as no Christmas leaves were granted this year we took a greater interest than usual in an entertainment that came off in the Mess Hall on New Year’s Eve.

The January examinations came again, and as is always the case there were many failures, among them being my tall young friend from Tennessee. After changing our hours of recitation the steady grind went on as usual.

About 1 o’clock in the morning of the 5th of February “long roll” sounded, and, of course, this meant for everybody to turn out promptly. In a few minutes after the call sounded the cadet companies formed in the area, and in a few minutes more those in the fire department had our little hand engine out and at work, for the cadet barracks were on fire. Tony R⸺r held the nozzle and directed the stream on the roof of the “Fourth Division,” where the flames were the thickest. The bucket brigade was also soon at work. Some of the plebes in the cock-loft of the Fourth Division did not awake until after their rooms were filled with smoke, and when roll was called they were discovered absent, and formed lines taking hold of hands and went into their rooms that were filled with smoke and brought them out. We worked until after daylight the next morning. Engineer and cavalry soldiers soon arrived to help us, but much damage was done before the fire was put out. Most of the roof was destroyed and great damage done to the “Dialectic Society Room” over the Sally Port and to the cock-loft rooms of the Fourth Division. No one was injured, but some of the cadets lost everything except their nightclothes, which they had escaped in. The unfortunate ones found accommodations by doubling-up with their classmates. Recitations begun at 8 a. m. that day as though nothing had happened, and in a few weeks the damage to the building was repaired, and a little later Congress, which was then in session, made good all losses.

Programme
OF THE
Entertainment Given by the
U. S. Corps of Cadets,
NEW YEAR’S EVE., 1870
WEST POINT.

OvertureOrchestra

PART I.
Handy Andy.

(Ye Gladsome Farce.)

Handy AndyCadet Shortelle
Squire EganCadet A. E. Wood
Dick DawsonCadet Rogers
Mr. MurphyCadet Casey
Squire O’GradyCadet Goddard
Mr. FurlongCadet Mumford
Edward O’ConnerCadet Hickey
SimonCadet Guard
First RuffianCadet “Doyle”
Second RuffianCadet “McGinnis”
Oonah RooneyCadet Birney
Mad NanceCadet Townsend
Fanny DawsonCadet Rowell
Peasants, Strangers, Citizens, Etc., by the Company.
MusicOrchestra

PART II.
Ye Soul-Stirring Tragedy of Macbeth.

Macbeth—Ye vengeful slayer of his King; who is knawed by grim remorse.
Macduff—Ye valiant general; ye loyal nobleman.
Duncan—King of Scotland.
Lady Macbeth—Who nightly walketh in her sleep.
Seyton—Ye officer of Horse Marines, attendant upon Macbeth.
Guitar DuetCadets Evans and Harrington

“Camille.”
A Tragedy.

CamilleCadet Casey
(Tries to wheeden it.)
Armand DuvallCadet Goddard
(The histrionic vender of peanuts.)
MusicOrchestra

PART III.
Dion Bourcicault’s “Speelshakes” Unparalleled Combination Overstrung Electro-Plated Tragedy of
Les Immortelles de la Classe Von-Bonaute.

As exhibited on the European plan by the world-renowned Pere Hyacinthe Troupe at Covent Garden, New Jersey, for over one consecutive night, during the rainy season, to an overflowing house, and afterwards successfully brought out by the Sheriff and Posse Troupe at the Tombs, New York, to a well-secured audience.

CHARACTERS.

(Don’t cut this part off.)

Cadet Shrimp, Plan and Section Marcher.
Cadet McDoyleVesskoldt
Cadet GinnessNarywacks U. C.
Cadet BewkellitWheet, N. R.
Cadet CutitTanbark
Cadet Merritt, D.

Recites at No. 1.5 Cockloft, Cavalry Stables, or in the area of Barracks on Saturday, alternating daily as the Professor may feel like it, with Courts-Martial from 2 P. M. until Police Inspection.

MusicOrchestra

PART IV.
Minstrels, by the Cadet Band.

1.

Overture (Ernani)Cadet Band
Beautiful BellsSolo and Chorus
Polka (La tarde del Sabado)Cadet Band
Kaiser, Don’t You Want to Buy a Dog?Company
Riding Hall GalopCadet Band
Mary AileenSolo and Chorus
MusicOrchestra

2.

Maltese Boat SongQuartette
Galop (Dgagdfnp)Cadet Band
Now I Lay Me Down to SleepSolo and Chorus
Flirtation WaltzCadet Band
Die Wacht am RheinCompany
Jim Jam ChorusCompany

ARTICLES OF WAR.

ARTICLE I.—The managers wish it to be distinctly understood that they have original jurisdiction over all cases of loud and unseemly noise, shouting and crying out “Supe,” “Boots,” “Carry him out” and the like; and appellate jurisdiction over all violations of these Articles of Confederation, including the use of peanuts, taffy, pop-corn or other raging strong drink.

ART. II.—In case of fire, to prevent unnecessary disturbance, the audience will be formed in two ranks endwise, the right wing resting on the Chapel steps, the left on the Declaration of Independence, bayonets fixed and trimmings to be worn on the outside of the mess hall. Should the danger be imminent a small detail, made by the Superintendent on recommendation of the academic board, will be allowed to visit the trunk rooms for the purpose of obtaining their white pants.

AMENDMENT XIV.—Should any one of the audience feel hungry during the performance he will make out a statement of the fact, showing the color of his eyes and hair, when and where he was born, when and where enlisted, how long since he ate anything, and why he did not then eat enough to last. He will submit it to the Commandant of Cadets, who will, if convenient, forward it to the Superintendent. He will forward it to the Secretary of War, who will refer it to the Third Auditor of the Treasury to ascertain how much of the necessary appropriation remains unexpended. It will then be exposed to Brand’s sulphate of soda test to ascertain the effect of frost, after which it will be covered with several layers of beton, well rammed. At the end of ten hundred years, if it still yields to the pressure of the finger and remains soluble in hot rum toddy, the application will be disapproved. The applicant will meanwhile receive napkins, cane-bottomed chairs and plated castors to whet his appetite.

PREAMBLE.—Should any member of the academic staff be so overcome by the refining nature of the performance as to feel a desire to sign the temperance pledge, he will find one in the cupboard of a little room in rear of the dining room of the officers’ mess.

When a cadet expected to “cut a meal,” that is, not go to the Mess Hall for it, or when he wanted a lunch between meals, he would butter a breakfast roll or two pieces of bread, fold the lunch in his handkerchief and put it in the breast of his coat, and then throw his shoulders forward to hide it, so as not to be reported for carrying food from the Mess Hall. In winter I often carried a roll to my room and put it on the steam coil under the marble slab. The heat melted the butter and made a luscious evening lunch. Whenever a cadet had not provided a lunch for himself and he wished to attend a “fight” at Fort Clinton a classmate would bring him something from the Mess Hall.

Once in a while some of the cadets would try their hands at cooking; they would get such articles of food from the Mess Hall as they could conceal about their clothes and other articles from the Dutch Woman’s, and after taps put a blanket up to cover the window, attach one end of a rubber tube to the gas jet and the other to a burner under a pot or pan, using candles for light. About the time the dainty dish, called “hash,” was ready the invited guests would arrive, and then such a feast. Once in a while an unexpected visitor in the form of a tactical officer would happen around, and then such scampering; the unlucky ones always paying dearly for the fun by walking “extras” on Saturday afternoons. There were two of my classmates who lived together, and one of them was a famous cook, but they were both “found” in January, and the one who was not the cook told me that he himself would not have been found had he not had a cook for a room-mate.

The paraphrase, by T⸺n of the class of 18—, gives a good account of “a cadet hash” and the results following it:

A CADET HASH—(With Apologies to “The Raven.”)

Once upon a morning dreary,

Whilst I pondered sad and weary,

Over the remains of cooking

And the grease upon the floor,

Suddenly there came a tapping,

As of Kent or Piper rapping,

Rapping at my chamber door;

Only this and nothing more.

What I said I will not mention

When I heard the “stand attention”

Coming from my chamber door.

Up I jumped nor word did utter,

As with many a snuff and splutter,

Came the giant form of Henry

Gazing at my greasy floor;

Only this and nothing more.

And behind him came a creature,

Human as to form and feature,

Whom I recognized as Jakey,

Gazing, too, upon my floor.

When I heard this creature vicious

Putting on a smile malicious,

Mutter, “You’ve been having cooking,

That is what has greased your floor.”

Only this and nothing more.

“Yes,” said Henry, “I can smell it,

’Tis so plain that one can tell it,

Tell the odor of the cooking,

And the grease upon the floor.”

Thus his spirit burned within him,

And he said to Jacob, “Skin him,

Skin him for the smell of cooking

And for grease upon the floor.”

“Yes,” said Jakey, and something more.

Then he said, with look aggressive,

And with twist of head expressive,

“Put him on as orderly.

Orderly for one week more!”

“Yes,” said Jacob, “I will do it;

This young man shall surely rue it,

Rue the night that he had cooking,

Rue the time he greased his floor,

He shall serve for one week more.”

Then they left me in my sadness,

Musing o’er the deed of madness,

Thinking of the smell of cooking

And of grease upon my floor.

All that night was turned to mourning,

Visions stern of “extras” dawning,

On my tearful, blinded vision,

Caused me pain evermore.

This is all—there’s nothing more.

Among the plebes reporting last June there was a colored youth, and he was the first colored appointee. He passed the preliminary examinations and was duly admitted. Without any concert of action we each and every one let the colored plebe alone. We never spoke to him except officially. He had a tent or a room all by himself, and he never had cause to complain of being deviled. However, one day he did complain, and said he had been tied and had had his ears cut; a great cry was raised against the hazing at West Point. The case was investigated, but he had no charges to make against any particular person, and as his injuries were of a certain kind the cadets were of the opinion that he had inflicted them upon himself. The army surgeons gave it as their opinion that any one could tie and injure himself as this colored youth had been tied and injured. This lad was neither black nor was he a mulatto; his face and hands were light, with dark spots on them, and these spots were darker on some occasions than others, which caused us to watch him closely. We discovered that just before a rain the spots in his cheeks were darker than at any other time, so we spoke of him as the “Walking Barometer.” Like many a better man, he was found deficient in a year or two and discharged. Had he been a white man I do not believe that he would ever have been admitted to West Point, because, as cadets, we thought him very dull and stupid.

There were some young ladies living at Cold Springs, who often visited the Point, and they repeatedly invited certain of the cadets to call on them some evening after “Taps.” Upon promise of a good supper and music some of us agreed to “run it” over there on the next Saturday night, provided, of course, that the tactical officers made their night inspections in time for us to catch the last ferryboat at 11 p. m. It so happened that the tactical officers all made early inspections on a particular Saturday night, and soon after they had gone we went to the rooms of certain candidates, who had not gotten their uniforms and whose suits of civilian clothes we decided to wear, unbeknown to them, of course. We found them asleep, took off our cadet gray and donned the candidates’ citizen clothes. By “hustling” we were just in time for the ferry, but as we were going down hill past the Seacoast Battery we met Professor C⸺h and some other officers, who had just arrived on the ferry, and as luck went L⸺n, from force of habit, saluted the officers. Our courage almost failed us then, but on we went. After reaching the boat landing we hesitated about crossing the Hudson for fear that, after having been seen, another inspection of quarters would be made that night, and if it were made we were sure of being reported absent, and this meant, as we could not make explanation that we were on cadet limits at the time, that we would have to stand “trial by court-martial,” and if any witnesses were found to prove us off limits we were certain to be dismissed. Notwithstanding all this, we went, and reached the house where all the young ladies had agreed to be at about midnight. We were not expected, but the young ladies were up and said that they did not dream of our taking the chances we did of being dismissed. As we were not expected, there was no supper for us. One of the ladies played the piano for a little while, and then quit because it was Sunday morning. Seeing that our trip was a disappointment we left the house and started on our return to barracks. The boatman was not where he told us to call for him, and we did not find him till about 4 a. m. In the meantime we became thoroughly chilled, and we ran across several men who might become witnesses, thus increasing our chances of being caught. Again it was fast approaching reveille, we would be absent from roll call, and what would the candidates whose clothes we had on do? Then there were our clothes with our names in them in the candidates’ rooms to be used as evidence against us. Oh, what a pleasant time we had that night! At last we landed at the same dock that I had first landed at, but I was not then in a humor to appreciate the scenery. We agreed after we changed clothes again with the candidates and had gone to our own rooms to see whether or not we had been “hived absent” to meet at the sink. It was not long till we met there and found that we had not been caught absent, and that the candidates never knew we wore their clothes.

We now began to talk of furlough, and as the time drew near we became the more anxious to see home folks again. Tailors visited the Point with samples of summer suitings, and the Commissary tailor also had samples to show. At last each yearling ordered the clothes he wanted to wear when he went on furlough as a swell second classman, and when the citizen suits were ready those who ordered at the Commissary could try them on, while the others had to wait for theirs until after the 1st of June. During the spring months we held several class meetings to decide upon a furlough cane, and at last we agreed upon one. It was a small malaca stick with an L-shaped ivory head, having the last two figures of the year we expected to graduate in cut into the free end of the L. Our folks when they saw us with the little canes called us dudes, and they were about right, too, but that was many years ago, when we were young and charming.

A FURLOUGH DREAM.[49]

Air:—Benny Havens, Oh!

A few more days and June will come,

And with her rosy hand

Will open wide the gate that leads

Unto the promised land,

Where dwells the “Cit” in happy ease,

Without the least regard,

While he doth have the entire earth

Enclosed in his front yard.

He has no fear of any “Tac”

When he off limits strays,

No reveille disturbs his ear.

Oh, joyful are his days;

He has no fear of Mathy probs,

Or French to masticate;

No Spanish grip with outstretched arms

Awaits to seal his fate.

He has no bony nag to ride

In Grant’s or Custer’s style,

No other animals to fight

That wear a goaty smile;

And as the summer days roll by

The wily hammock holds

This happy, lazy, lounging “Cit”

Within its sleepy folds.

Oh, haste the day when we shall share

In life’s sweet joys again;

No hearts on earth will lighter beat

Than those of furloughmen.

’Twill all seem like a happy dream,

But, oh! how short and sweet,

This oasis in our four years,

When friends long parted meet.

And then once more we will return

To West Point battle ground,

To fight again for two years more,

That is, if we’re not “found;”

So furloughmen just brace yourselves,

And keep hopes’ fire ablaze,

For we, too, shall be jolly “Cits”

In just a few more days.

CAMP BELKNAP.

The Pleasure of your company is requested at the hops to be given by the Corps of Cadets every Monday Wednesday and Friday evening during the encampment

MANAGERS.

West Point

21st June 1871.

CHAPTER VII.
THE FURLOUGHMAN.

Another June rolled around, the Board of Visitors arrived, the customary salute was fired and the alumni meeting held. The examinations were completed, another class was graduated and a new one admitted to the corps. As usual, at the annual examinations some of the “found” were turned back to join the next class, while the other unfortunates left the Point to return no more as cadets. The fortunate graduates and the happy furloughmen, after drawing the “balances due” from the Treasurer of the Academy, donned their “cit” clothes and went on furlough; the graduates to assume the duties of Second Lieutenants in the army at the expiration of their “graduating leave” on the 30th of the following September, and the second classmen to return to the Point at the expiration of their “furlough” on the 28th of August. The amounts due varied according to the economy practiced by the cadets. Some had nothing due, while others received as much as two hundred dollars in addition to the “equipment fund.” Four dollars per month is retained from the pay of each cadet as his “equipment fund,” and it is given to him when he graduates or leaves the Academy never to return as a cadet.

Mine was the furlough class this year, and when I reached home my mother made me open my trunk in the back yard, and she herself was present to see that I shook and aired everything I had, for the reason, she said, that, as there were no women to keep things clean about our barracks, she was sure that we had bedbugs there.

I had not been at home long when an old Quaker called on me and said: “H⸺, I have been waiting for thee to come home. During the war I noticed that soldiers always stepped off with the left foot first, and now that thee has been to the Government’s Military School for two years, thee probably knows why.” I had to confess my ignorance on the subject then, and I must confess it now.

One day I received an invitation to visit a battalion of State Militia in camp, and I was requested to take my uniform. I accepted the invitation, and wore it in camp. I was able to and did give instruction in many points of the tactics, which at that time were new to the militia, and at the same time I learned much at this camp that was new and useful to me. At the request of the commanding officer of the camp I acted as Adjutant at parades and guard-mounts. I got along all right after the first dress parade, where I took post on the wrong side of the commanding officer after having presented arms to him. However, the militia of my state was not then as well posted on tactics[50] as it is to-day; my blunder was not discovered.

During furlough some of my classmates visited me, and I visited some of them, and we had a jolly good time of course, for all college men enjoy their vacations. While students of other colleges usually have several months’ vacation every year, West Point cadets have but one vacation in their four years. With many pleasures and not a care the summer soon passed, and as usual most of the furloughmen met in New York to return together from there.

A warm welcome awaited us in “Camp Belknap,” that being the name of the camp at the Point this year. Mustaches and side whiskers that we had grown during the summer all had to come off before we reported our return to the Adjutant. We soon shaved, visited the trunk rooms, donned our uniforms and reported for duty. After a gay time on the “color line” that evening we turned in with the first classmen, who had long been our friends, although they were once the yearlings who had deviled us in our plebe camp; so quickly is the deviling forgiven and yet never forgotten. The next day we “broke camp” and returned to barracks, this time to begin on the hardest studies[51] of the four years. It did not take us long to get down to hard study and drill again and to become interested once more in the few things that afford pleasure to cadets during the Academic year.

After arriving at the Point and before reporting the return from furlough, it has long been a custom to have a class picture taken upon the chapel steps, and when sitting for this picture furloughmen generally look as “tough” as possible, as may be seen from the picture of the group of furloughmen.

When marching to and from meals, long before I myself became a second classman, I observed four members of the then second class who did not march with the battalion, but who strolled leisurely to and from the Mess Hall. My first thought was that they had been excused by the Post Surgeon from marching to and from meals, but upon inquiry I learned that these four were “Company Clerks,” and that they were detailed on special duty upon the recommendations of the first sergeants. Hence I promptly secured the promise of D⸺t that if he obtained the first sergeancy of C Company I should be the company clerk. He was made the first sergeant and kept his promise to me, and for more than a year I made out the muster rolls and guard details of C Company. From that day I have not walked post as a sentinel; the first year because I was company clerk, and the next year because first classmen do not do guard duty after the plebes begin to go on guard. Neither did I march to and from meals any more; the first year because I was company clerk and the next because I was one of twelve first classmen who, at that time, took their meals at a private house in Professor’s Row.

Professor K⸺k was an old bachelor, but he kept open house on Saturday afternoons, and it was a great pleasure to him to welcome cadet callers. He always treated them to waffles and maple syrup or to something else equally as delicious and not found on the Mess Hall bill of fare.

In my day the gas tips in cadet rooms did not give a very good light, so some of the cadets bought better tips and when caught using them they were of course reported for tampering with public property. G⸺r, of my class, had an “Argand burner,” and at first he was very careful to take it off for inspection of quarters, but one evening he was caught unawares and reported. For this serious offense he was confined to “light prison” for several months. Light prisons at that time were rooms in the angle of barracks, and they were off limits for cadets not there in confinement. The cadet officer of the day carried the prison keys, and at certain hours, such as for recitations and drills, he would let out the prisoners. G⸺r got so tired of being alone that he removed a panel of his prison door and then often went visiting after taps. But he got out through the panel once too often, for he was caught and then his prison door was barred and his stay in prison lengthened many weeks.

One day when Captain B⸺s had my cavalry platoon out for a long ride in the country, just before passing an orchard filled with luscious ripe apples, the Captain rode from the head to the rear of the column and said to the rear guide: “Mr. H⸺s, don’t let anyone go into that orchard,” and then returned to the head of the column. H⸺s saw to it that none of us “fell out” of ranks, but he himself treated to apples from that orchard.

Cadets are taught the use of the pencil, pen and brush, the latter in water colors only. In this work we painted from models of landscapes, figures, ships, etc., and, as may be expected, some cadets were more skillful than others. Those near the foot of the class in drawing had hard work to keep from being found deficient in it. To get better results in water color work the professor occasionally directed a cadet to wash out a part of his drawing and begin that part over again. In looking at Cadet G⸺e’s work one day, Professor W⸺r directed him to wash out the “hull” of the ship he was at work on. After a while the professor returned and began to scold, when G⸺e “innocently” said: “Why, professor, you told me to wash out the ‘whole’ of it.” The topographical sketch of the most interesting part of West Point given on another page is a reproduction of a specimen of cadet pen and ink work.

We were kept so busy during this year that the time passed rapidly, notwithstanding many privileges that we had enjoyed were taken away from us. For instance, this year we were not allowed to go on Christmas leave, nor to receive Christmas boxes, nor to give an entertainment on New Year’s Eve. The fact is a new superintendent had taken charge of affairs and it did not take us long to find it out. Still we soon became accustomed to the new order of things and all went well.

As I have said, cadets wore old shoes to reveille, and the accompanying verses express the kindly feelings they have for them:

MY OLD REVEILLES.

You may talk of your gaiters as much as you please,

Their beauty, their elegance, comfort and ease;

But of all the shoes that e’er shoemaker made,

Not a word that is better of them can be said

Than Cadets will say and they’ll not say it to please,

But for pure, honest love of their old Reveilles.

Long ages ago, they have seen their best day;

Tho’ rusty and holey, I’ll not throw them away,

But fondly will cherish tho’ the uppers wear out,

And the soles are all ready to sail up the spout,

For there’s no shoes in the world possess so much ease

For my poor tired feet as my old Reveilles.

The worldly may scoff and at sight of them sneer,

But I’ll cling to them yet for old memories dear;

They covered my feet when a Plebe in distress,

And into my Yearling year helped me to press;

As long as winds whistle and waves roll o’er the seas

Will I look with kind glance on my old Reveilles.

At last when the policeman shall come in some day,

And gather the “rimnants” that I’ve thrown away,

And bears the old rubbish to the heap down below,

Along with the rest in the dust and the snow,

You’ll see them there lying, producers of ease

Sad, lonely, neglected, my old Reveilles.

Others and newer may take their old place,

And with plenteous blacking shine smiles in my face,

My feet will look smaller and better perhaps,

But in the sweet slumbers that come after Taps,

Foremost and fairest of all visions that please,

Will be happy remembrances of my old Reveilles.

Let them go while a tear drop in memory flows

Gently down from my eye-lid and rests on my nose,

But little they’ll reck of my sorrow or pain,

Nor of my longing to get them again.

While over their resting-place cold winds scatter leaves

Where they peacefully sleep—Farewell, Reveilles!

Artillery drills come in each year of the four. The first year the drill is on foot at the light battery; the next year with horses at the light battery; the third year on foot at the siege, mortar and sea-coast batteries, and the last year first classmen act as assistants to the instructors. Light battery drill with horses is one that all cadets thoroughly enjoy. There are six pieces (each with its caisson) in the battery, and there is great rivalry between the cadets and drivers at each piece, especially in executing some maneuver that ends with firing.

In my day the target for mortar drill was a barrel on a post, placed at the foot of Cro’ Nest, 1,000 yards or more from the mortar battery, near “Trophy Point.” One day I was “gunner” of a piece and was fortunate enough to knock the barrel from its post, a feat rarely accomplished, as it is very difficult to strike a small object with a mortar.

One of the guns of the sea-coast battery was a very large one, the diameter of the bore being twenty inches. One day at drill at this battery, while at “rest,” one of the cadets, who was a little fellow, crawled into the bore of this big gun. After getting in a certain distance the more he tried to get out the farther in he went, hence he had to be pulled out by the heels. The instructor, appreciating the situation, threatened to report him for being off limits.

Cadets are taught photography, and on pleasant May days second classmen can often be seen with cameras taking views of the different buildings and of the many pretty sights about the Point.

One pleasant afternoon in May a classmate and I were walking along Professor’s Row, near the north gate, and we saw three pretty young ladies, daughters of Professor W⸺r, sitting on their porch, so we stopped for a chat. The ladies said that they would play the piano and sing for us if we would go in the house. My friend declined the invitation, because he was too near found on demerits to risk being caught off cadet limits, and we did not have a permit. Up to that time I had had but few demerits and had been lucky in never having been caught off limits, so I decided to accept the invitation. When there was no officer in sight I went in, and passed a merry hour with the young ladies. But when I came out an officer saw me, and reported me for being off cadet limits. I wrote an explanation, stating where I was at the time, and that was all. “Off Limits” is a serious offense, especially in an old cadet, and besides receiving five or six demerits, I was given six “extras” officially designated as “Saturday afternoon punishments.” This I did not relish at all, especially as I had never had any before, but I learned to my sorrow what an extra meant, and I had ample time to ponder over the gravity of my offense as I paced to and fro, across the area of barracks, carrying my rifle “just so,” from 2 p. m. till ten minutes before dress parade at sunset. I never till then fully realized the length of the days in May and June. When it came time to go to camp again I had walked only four of the six extras, and as there are no “extras” in camp, for the remaining two I was given two weeks “confinement,” i. e., I had to be in my tent all the time for the first two weeks in my first class camp, except, of course, when absent from it on duty or by special permission.

Just before this Academic year closed my class selected its quota of managers for the coming summer hops, and also all of the managers for the hop that my class gave to the graduating class. The invitations and programs for these dances were sent to friends, and they began to arrive with the Board of Visitors and old graduates who came to attend the Alumni meeting and dinner in the bachelor officers’ part of the Mess Hall.

Cullum Memorial Hall is now used for all hops and the alumni meetings are usually held in it, and luncheon is served afterwards from the Officers’ Mess, next door.

TO CLASS OF ’72 FROM ’73.

THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY IS REQUESTED AT A HOP TO BE GIVEN TO THE Graduating Class on June 14th.

Managers

West Point, N.Y.

The new buildings now completed or far enough along to be used are the bachelor officers’ quarters, across the road east and a little south of old Fort Clinton; Cullum Memorial Hall, a gift accepted by Congress, a little further south; the officers’ mess, still further south; the Administration Building, across the road east of and facing the cadet mess hall; the power plant, a little further east; the cadet hospital, a little north of the old one that is now used for married officers’ quarters; the Academic, on the site of, but much larger than the old one; the North Cadet Barracks, in Professors’ Bow, and a little north of the old, now called the South Cadet Barracks, to which some years ago two divisions were added to the east end of its west wing; a second guard house, in rear, i. e., west of the North Cadet Barracks; a Catholic church, built, with permission of Congress, by Catholics, on high ground some distance west of the old north gate that was removed years ago; many married officers’ quarters, some northwesterly of the old north gate and some south of the old south gate, that was also removed years ago—these quarters are built facing the river in two tiers; the artillery and cavalry barracks and stables are upon two sides of a new artillery and cavalry plain that adjoins the village of Highland Falls; the Observatory, on the Hill, now called Observatory Hill, near old Fort Putnam; lastly, the Cadet Chapel, a beautiful cathedral-like building on Observatory Hill, crowns the group of handsome buildings. The reservoir on the west slope of Observatory Hill has been enlarged and a filter plant added to it.

The new gymnasium and riding hall are now well under way. The gymnasium is west and a little north of the west wing of the north cadet barracks; the roof of the old (and but a few years ago the new) gymnasium has been taken to cover the swimming pool part of this large new building. The riding hall nearly fills the space between the officers’ mess on the north and the power plant on the south; in fact, the riding hall and power plant will join, and on the south-east corner of this building there will be a tower to correspond with that of the Administration Building.

The following buildings will soon be razed to the ground, to-wit: the old Cadet Chapel (to be rebuilt in the cadet cemetery); the old, and but a few years ago the new Administration Building, from a little south of the old chapel; the old power plant, from the area of the old cadet barracks; the old, and but a few years ago the new, cadet sink or water closet building, from the area of the old cadet barracks; the old gymnasium, from a little west of the angle of the South Cadet Barracks; the old riding hall, that is now nearly surrounded by the walls of the new one; and the officers’ quarters in front of the new gymnasium, as the latter stands well back of but fronts east on Professors’ Row.

While the Military Academy was the first educational institution in this country to recognize (in 1817) the value of a uniform system of physical training it was not till 1890 that the Academic Board allowed cadet teams to play against teams of other institutions. The first contest being a baseball game with an Annapolis midshipmen team, then came other contests with teams from other colleges. Now contests are held annually—and since 1908 under official control—with outside teams in baseball, football, fencing, basketball and hockey. The present system of indoor gymnastics dates from 1882 and track work, tennis, golf, polo and wrestling are indulged in. Most of the contests are held at West Point—many of them being played on the beautiful green infantry parade ground—and seats arranged in tiers like the bleechers at professional ball games are put up in sections on the plain to accommodate the thousands of spectators that now witness these contests. There being no admission fee the seats are assigned by tickets to the cadets and their friends, and to officers and friends of the Academy who voluntarily contribute to the financial support of cadet athletics.

Certain cadets who excel in athletics, i. e., those who have actually played on an Academy (first) team for a year are entitled to wear a large A, (the initial of Army) on the sweater, jersey, jacket, cap or other article of athletic uniform, subject to the following:

1st. In football they must play in two-thirds of all games played with outside teams or in a Navy game.

2d. In baseball they must play in two-thirds of all games played with outside teams or in a Navy game.

3d. In fencing they must participate in three-fifths of all contests fenced with outside teams, or in the Intercollegiate contest.

4th. Any cadet who at an Outdoor Meet breaks an Academy record.

To keep pace with other colleges cadets now have “colors” and “yells.”

For the Class of 1909 the color is gold, and the yell is—

SISS! BOOM! AH!
U. S. M. A.! RAH! RAH! U. S. M. A.! RAH! RAH!
HOO RAH! HOO RAH!
NAUGHTY-NINE!
RAH!

For the Class of 1910 the color is royal purple, and the yell is—

R-A-Y! RAH! RAH!
R-A-Y! RAH! RAH!
U. S. M. A.
NINETEEN TEN!

For the Class of 1911 the color is Maroon, and the yell is—

HOO-RAH-RAH! HOO-RAH-RAH!
HOO-RAH! HOO-RAY! U. S. M. A.
1911! 1911! 1911!

For the Class of 1912 the color is royal-blue, and the yell is—

U. S. M. A.!
U. S. M. A.!
U. S. M. A.!
1912! RAY!

While the Corps colors are gray, black and gold, and the Corps yell is—

Rah, Rah, Ray,
Rah, Rah, Ray,
West Point
West Point
AR-MAY!
Rah, Rah, Ray.
Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah!
West Point,
West Point,
West Point!

And for the Charge yell—

Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah!
Ki-yi, Ki-yi, Ki-yi Ki-yi,
Ki-yi, Ki-yi, Ki-yi,
Wow, Wow, Wow.
Ki-yi, Ki-yi, Ki-yi,
Wow, Wow, Wow.
CHARGE!

Each class elects one or more “Cheer Leaders,” but a first class Cheer Leader leads the Corps in Corps yells.

In contests with outside teams the West Point team is called the “Army Team” and the Annapolis team is called the “Navy Team.”

Imagine the feelings of one who graduated at the Academy prior to 1890 listening to cadet yells and to such songs (copied from the 1909 Howitzer) as the following that are now sung by the Corps in the presence of the Academic Board and other officers, to wit:

Air: “Tipperary.”

When you see that old veteran Army Team

Come bounding over the ropes,

And settle right down to a winning game

That breaks the Navy’s hopes,

It makes every genuine soldier’s heart

Fill up with joy and pride.

That he’s of the metal that makes the team,

And that he roots on the Army side.

Throughout this country far and wide,

And islands far away,

Each heart in blue beats hard and beats true

For the Army.

Chorus.

Army, Army, you’re a wonder;

You will snow the Middies under.

Win this game without a blunder, for

You’ve got to win, you’ve got to win,

And down that Navy, down that Navy;

It’s for the honor of the Army.

Air: “Women.”

For this season, the old Army Mule

Has adopted the same sporting rule,

Which he holds as inherited right;

And that rule is “fight, fight, fight.”

So the Tiger of Princeton must fall,

And the Yale Bulldog taste bitter gall;

While the beaten Navy Goat

Must leave land and board a boat,

To be safe on his sea of tears.

Air: “O’Reilly.”

The Army, The Army,

The Army’s a team that’s sure stormy,

So beat it, you sailor lads, run ’fore the wind,

When our men first blew in here

Your team was skinned.

Poor Navy, dear Navy,

Not even your anchors can save ye,

Your flukes have all stuck, but your line gave way

In this terrible cyclone, the Army.

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!”

At the Army-Navy football game, in November, 1908, on Franklin Field, Philadelphia, Pa., during a moment of suspense between cheers, some one started the refrain—Fight! Fight! Fight! Spreading instantaneously through the (West Point) Corps, it was promptly adopted as the Army’s watchword, and throughout the remainder of the game the stands throbbed with the stirring slogan:

Tense is the strain in the stands to-day,—

Six to four, and the army leads!

And, charging in vain ’gainst the line of gray,

The shattered Navy attack recedes.—

For the thought that nerves every Army’s son

Is not the renown of an athlete’s might,

But the call of the Corps, that swells in one

Reverberant chorus, Fight! Fight! Fight!

The bed of the thicket is stained with red,

So fierce was the Moro ambuscade:

Half the men down, and the captain dead,

And each tree shelters a rebel blade.

But the boy, with never a blush of fear,

Forms the shattered ranks, drives the foe in flight.

For the Corps from afar still speaks to him clear,

And the word that he hears is Fight! Fight! Fight!

This is the message that evermore,

While endlessly stretches the firm gray line,

Each son hears whispered anew by the Corps,

“Your life no longer is wholly thine.

Your utmost strength and your fullest meed

Of service is pledged as the Nation’s right

And all through life’s battle, this be your creed

And watchword forever—Fight! Fight! Fight!”

While most of the contests in which a cadet (i. e., the army) team takes part are played at West Point, some of them are played on other grounds—notably the annual football game with the Annapolis (i. e., the Navy) team—it is played on Franklin Field at Philadelphia, Penn., and it is an event of the year for Washington officials and society folks from near and from far.