along with some things objectionable, including a liberty that under
the conditions too often resembled license, brought with them sound
traditions, which throughout my stay there constituted a real _esprit
de corps_. In nothing was this more conspicuous than in the attitude
towards hazing. Owing to circumstances I will mention later, I entered
at once the class which, as I understand, most usually perpetrated the
outrageous practices that became a scandal in the country--the class,
that is, which is entering on its second year at the Academy. My home
having always been at the Military Academy, I, without much thinking,
expected to find rife the same proceedings which had prevailed there
from time to me immemorial. Such anticipations made deeper and more
lasting the impression produced by the contrary state of things, and
yet more by the wholly different tone prevalent at Annapolis. Not only
was hazing not practised, but it scarcely obtained even the
recognition of mention; it was not so much reprobated as ignored; and,
if it came under discussion at all, it was dismissed with a turn of
the nose, as something altogether beneath us. That is not the sort of
thing we do here. It may be all very well at West Point--much as "what
would do for a marine could not be thought of for a seaman"--but we
were "officers and gentlemen," and thought no small beans of ourselves
as such. There were at times absurd manifestations of this same
precocious dignity, of which I may speak later; still, as O'Brien said
of Boatswain Chucks, "You may laugh at such assumptions of gentility,
but did any one of his shipmates ever know Mr. Chucks to do an
unhandsome or a mean action?--and why? Because he aspired to be a
gentleman."
While I can vouch for this general state of feeling, I cannot be sure
of its derivation; but I have always thought it due to the presence
during the previous five years of the "oldsters," nominally under the
same discipline as ourselves, but looked up to with the respect and
observance which at that age are naturally given to those two or three
seasons older. And these men were not merely more advanced in years.
They were matured beyond their age by early habits of responsibility
and command, and themselves imbued by constant contact with the spirit
of the phrase "an officer and a gentleman," which constitutes the norm
of military conduct. Their intercourse with their seniors on board
ship had been much closer than that which was possible at the school.
This atmosphere they brought with them to a position from which they
could not but most powerfully influence us. How far the tradition
might have been carried on, in smooth seas, I do not know; but along
with many other things, good and bad, it was shattered by the War of
Secession. The school was precipitately removed to Newport, where it
was established in extemporized and temporary surroundings; the older
undergraduates were hurried to sea, while the new entries were huddled
together on two sailing frigates moored in the harbor, dissociated
from the influence of those above them. The whole anatomy and, so to
say, nervous system of the organization were dislocated. For better or
for worse, perhaps for better and for worse, the change was more like
death and resurrection than life and growth. The potent element which
the oldster had contributed, and the upper classes absorbed and
perpetuated, was eliminated at once and entirely by the detachment of
the senior cadets and the segregation of the new-corners. New ideals
were evolved by a mass of school-boys, severed from those elder
associates with the influence of whom no professors nor officers can
vie. How hazing came up I do not know, and am not writing its
history. I presume it is one of the inevitable weeds that school-boy
nature brings forth of itself, unless checked by unfavorable
environment. I merely note its almost total absence in my time; its
subsequent existence was unhappily notorious.
A general good-humored tolerance, easy-going, and depending upon a
mutual understanding, none the less clear because informal,
characterized the relations of the officers and students. Primarily,
each were in the appreciation of the other officers and gentlemen. So
far there was implicit equality; and while the ones were in duty bound
to enforce academic regulations, which the others felt an equal
obligation to disregard, it was a kind of game in which they did not
much mind being losers, provided we did not trespass on the standards
of the gentleman, and of the officer liberally construed. They, I
think, had an unacknowledged feeling that while under school-boy, or
collegiate, discipline as to times or manners, some relaxation of
strict official correctness must be endured. Larking, sometimes
uproarious, met with personal sympathy, if official condemnation. Nor
did we resent being detected by what we regarded as fair means; to
which we perhaps gave a pretty wide interpretation. The exceptional
man, who inspected at unaccustomed hours, which we considered our own
prescriptive right--though not by rules--who came upon us unawares,
was apt to be credited with rather unofficer-like ideas of what was
becoming, and suspected of the not very gentlemanly practice of
wearing noiseless rubber shoes. That intimation of his approach was
conveyed by us from room to room by concerted taps on the gas-pipes
was fair war; nor did our opponents seem to mind what they could not
but clearly hear. Indeed, I think most of them were rather glad to
find evidences of order and propriety prevailing, where possibly but
for those kindly signals they might have detected matter for report.
There was one lieutenant, however, the memory of whom was still green
as a bay-tree in my day, though it would have been blasted indeed
could cursing have blighted it, to whom the game of detective seemed
to possess the fascination of the chase; and so successful was he that
his baffled opponents could not view the matter dispassionately, nor
accept their defeat in sportsman-like spirit. I knew him later; he had
a saturnine appearance, not calculated to conciliate a victim, but he
liked a joke, especially of the practical kind, and for the sake of
one successfully achieved could forgive an offender. Night surprises,
inroads on the enemy's country, at the hours when we were mistakenly
supposed to be safe in bed, and regulations so required, were favorite
stratagems with him. On one occasion, so tradition ran, some
half-dozen midshipmen had congregated in a room "after taps," and,
with windows carefully darkened, had contrived an extempore kitchen to
fry themselves a mess of oysters. The process was slow, owing to the
number of oysters the pan could take at once and the largeness of the
expectant appetites; but it had progressed nearly to completion, when
without premonition the door opened and ---- appeared. He asked no
questions and offered no comments, but, walking to the platter, seized
it and threw out of the window the accumulated results of an hour's
weary work. No further notice of the delinquency followed; the
discomfiture of the sufferers sufficiently repaid his sense of humor.
At another midnight hour a midshipman visiting in a room not his,
lured thither, let us hope, by the charms of intellectual
conversation, was warned by the gas-pipes that the enemy was on the
war-path. Retreat being cut off, he took refuge under a bed, but
unwittingly left a hand visible. ---- caught sight of it, walked to
the bed, flashed his lantern in the eyes of its occupant, who
naturally was sleeping as never before, and at the same time trod hard
on the exposed fingers. A squeal followed this unexpected attention,
and the culprit had to drag himself out; but the lieutenant was
satisfied, and let him go at that.
I have said that larking met with more than toleration--with sympathy.
The once magic word "midshipman" seemed to cloak any outburst of
frolicking; otherwise some exhibitions I witnessed could scarcely have
passed unscathed. They were felt to be in character by the older
officers; and, while obliged to reprehend, I doubt whether some of
them would not have more enjoyed taking a share. They knew, too, that
we were just as proud as they of the service, and that under all lay
an entire readiness to do or to submit to that which we and they alike
recognized as duty. Sometimes rioting went rather too far, but for the
most part it was harmless. One rather grave incident, shortly before
my entry, derived its humor mainly from the way in which it was
treated by the superintendent. One of the out-buildings of the
Academy, either because offensive or out of sheer deviltry, was set on
fire and destroyed. The perpetrator of this startling practical joke
was Alexander F. Crosman, of the '51 Date, whom many of us yet
living remember well. Small in stature, with something of the
"chip-on-the-shoulder" characteristic, often seen in such, he was
conspicuous for a certain chivalrous gallantry of thought and mien,
the reflection of a native brilliant courage; a trait which in the end
caused his death, about 1870, by drowning, in the effort to save an
imperilled boat's crew. The superintendent, a man of ponderous
dimensions, and equally ponderous but rapid speech--though it is due
to say also unusually accomplished, both professionally and
personally--was greatly outraged and excited at this defiance of
discipline. The day following he went out to meet the corps, when it
had just left some formation, and, calling a halt, delivered a speech
on the basis of the _Articles of War_, a copy of which he brandished
before his audience. These ancient ordinances, among many other
denunciations of naval crimes and misdemeanors, pronounced the
punishment of death, or "such other worse" as a court-martial might
adjudge, upon "any person in the Navy who shall maliciously set on
fire, or otherwise destroy, any government property not then in the
possession of an _enemy, pirate, or rebel_." The gem of oratory
hereupon erected was paraphrased as follows by the culprit himself,
aided and abetted in his lyrical flight by his room-mate, John S.
Barnes, who, after graduating left the service, returned for the War
of Secession, and subsequently resigned finally. To this survivor of
the two collaborators I owe the particulars of the affair. How many
more "traitors" there were I know not. Those who recall the speaker
will recognize that the parody must have followed closely the real
words of the address:
"Young gentlemen assembled!--
It makes no matter where--
I only want to speak to you,
So hear me where you are.
"Some vile incendiary
Last night was prowling round,
Who set fire to our round-house
And burned it to the ground.
"I'll read the Naval Law;
The man who dares to burn
A round-house,--not the Enemy's,--
A traitor's fate shall learn.
"And if a man there be,
Who does this traitor know,
And keeps it to himself,
He shall suffer death also!
"'Tis well, then, to tell, then,
Who did this grievous ill;
And, d--n him, I will hang him,
So help me God! I will!"
If anything could have added to the gayety of the fire, such an
outburst would.
In after years I sailed under the command of this speechmaker. At
monthly musters he reserved to himself the prerogative of reading the
_Articles_, probably thinking that he did it more effectively than the
first lieutenant; in which he was quite right. It so happened that,
owing to doubt whether a certain paragraph applied to the Marine
Corps, Congress had been pleased to make a special enactment that the
word "persons" in such and such a clause "should be construed to
include marines." Coming as this did near the end, some humorist was
moved to remark that the first Sunday in the month muster was for the
purpose of informing us authoritatively that a marine was a person. As
the captain read this interesting announcement, his voice assumed a
gradual _crescendo_, concluding with a profound emphasis on the word
"marines," which he accompanied with a half turn and a flourish of the
book towards that honorable body, drawn up in full uniform, at parade
rest, its venerable captain, whose sandy hair was fast streaking with
gray, standing at its head, his hands meekly crossed over his
sword-hilt, the blade hanging down before him; all doubtless suitably
impressed with this definition of their status, which for greater
certainty they heard every month. It was very fine, very fine indeed;
appealing to more senses than one.
The shore drills--infantry and field artillery--furnished special
occasions for organized--or disorganized--upheavals of animal spirits.
For these exercises we then had scant respect. They were "soldiering;"
and from time immemorial soldier had been an adjective to express
uselessness, or that which was so easy as to pass no man's ability. A
soldier's wind, for example, was a wind fair both ways--to go and to
return; no demands on brains there, much less on seamanship. The
curious irrelevancy of such applications never strikes persons;
unless, indeed, a perception of incongruity is the soul of wit, a
definition which I think I have heard. To depart without the ceremony
of saying good-bye takes its name from the most elaborately civil of
people--French leave; while the least perturbable of nations has been
made to contribute an epithet, Dutch, to the courage derived from the
whiskey-bottle. In the latter case, however, I fancy that, besides the
tradition of long-ago national rivalries, there may have been the idea
that to excite a Dutchman you must, as they say, light a fire under
him; or as was forcibly remarked by a midshipman of my time of his
phlegmatic room-mate, he had to kick him in the morning to get him
started for the day.
To return to the shore drills: these were then committed to one of the
civil professors of the Academy, a fact which itself spoke for the
familiarity with them of the sea lieutenants. As these always
exercised us at ships' guns, the different estimation which the two
obtained in the outside service was too obvious to escape quick-witted
young fellows, and it was difficult to overcome the resultant
disrespect. The professor was not one to effect the impossible. He was
a graduate of West Point, a man of ability, not lacking in dignity,
and personally worthy of all respect; but he stuttered badly, and this
impediment not only received no mercy from youth, but interfered with
the accuracy of manoeuvres where the word of command needed to be
timely in utterance. Report ran that on one occasion, advancing by
column of companies, while the professor was struggling with
"H-H-H-Halt!" the leading company, composed martyrs to discipline,
marched over the sea-wall into three feet of water. Had the water
been deeper, they might have been less literal. Despite his military
training, his bearing and carriage had not the strong soldierly stamp
which might redeem his infirmity, and even in the class-room a certain
whimsical atmosphere seemed borne from the drill-ground. He, I
believe, was the central figure of one of the most humorous scenes in
Herman Melville's _White Jacket_, a book which, despite its prejudiced
tone, has preserved many amusing and interesting inside recollections
of a ship-of-war of the olden time. The naval instructor on board the
frigate is using Rodney's battle of 1782 to illustrate on the
blackboard the principles of naval tactics to the class of midshipmen.
"Now, young gentlemen, you see this disabled French ship in the
corner, far to windward of her fleet, between it and the enemy. She
has lost all three masts, and the greater part of the ship's company
are killed and wounded; what will you do to save her?" To this knotty
problem many extemporized "practical" answers are given, of which the
most plausible is by Mr. Dash, of Virginia--"I should nail my colors
to the mast and let her sink under me." As this could scarcely be
called saving her, Mr. Dash is rebuked for irrelevance; but, after the
gamut of possible solutions has been well guessed over, the instructor
announces impressively, "That ship, young gentlemen, cannot be saved."
I cannot say that he dealt with us thus tantalizingly; but one of my
contemporaries used to tell a story of his personal experience which
was generically allied to the above. At the conclusion of some faulty
manoeuvre, the instructor remarked aloud: "This all went wrong, owing
to Mr. P.'s not standing fast in his own person. We will now repeat
it, for the particular benefit of Mr. P." The repetition ensued, and
in its course the instructor called out, "Be careful, Mr. P., and
stand fast where you are." "I am standing fast," replied P.,
incautiously. "R-R-Report Mr. P. for talking in ranks." At the
Academy, naval tactics were not within his purview; and of all our
experiences with him in the class-room, one ludicrous incident alone
remains with me. One of my class, though in most ways well at head,
was a little alarmed about his standing in infantry tactics. He
therefore at a critical occasion attempted to carry the text-book with
him to the blackboard. This surreptitious deed, being not to get
advantage over a fellow, but to save himself, was condoned by public
opinion; but, being unused to such deceits, in his agitation he copied
his figure upside down and became hopelessly involved in the
demonstration. The professor next day took occasion to comment
slightingly on our general performance, but "as to Mr. ----," he
added, derisively, "he did r-r-r-wretchedly."
I sometimes wonder that we learned anything about "soldiering," but we
did in a way. The principles and theory were mastered, if performance
was slovenly; and in execution, as company officers, we got our
companies "there," although just how we did it might be open to
criticism. In our last year the adjutant in my class, who graduated at
its head, on the first occasion of forming the battalion, after some
moments of visible embarrassment could think of no order more
appropriate than "Form your companies fore and aft the pavement." Fore
and aft is "lengthwise" of a ship. No humiliation attended such a
confession of ignorance--on that subject; but had the same man "missed
stays" when in charge of the deck, he would have been sorely
mortified. His successor of to-day probably never will have a chance
to miss stays. There thus ran through our drills an undercurrent of
levity, which on provocation would burst out almost spontaneously into
absurdity. On one occasion the battalion was drawn up in line,
fronting at some distance the five buildings which then constituted
the midshipmen's quarters. The intimation was given that we were to
advance and then charge. Once put in motion, I know not whether
stuttering lost the opportunity of stopping us, but the pace became
quicker and quicker till the whole body broke into a run, rushed
cheering tumultuously through the passages between the houses, and
reformed, peaceably enough, on the other side. The captains all got a
wigging for failing to keep us in hand; but they were powerless. The
whole thing was without preconcertment or warning. It could hardly
have happened, however, had the instinct of discipline been as strong
in these drills as in others.
A more deliberate prank was played with the field artillery. These
light pieces, being of the nature of cannon rather than muskets,
obtained more deference, being recognized as of the same genus with
the great guns which then constituted a ship's broadside. On one
occasion they were incautiously left out overnight on the
drill-ground. Between tattoo and taps, 9.30 to 10 P.M., was always a
half-hour of release from quarters. There was mischief ready-made for
idle hands to do. The guns were taken in possession, rushed violently
to and fro in mock drill performance, and finally taken to pieces, the
parts being scattered promiscuously in all directions. Dawn revealed
an appearance of havoc resembling a popular impressionist
representation of a battle-field. Here a caisson with its boxes,
severed from their belongings, stretched its long pole appealingly
towards heaven; the wheels had been dispersed to distant quarters of
the ground and lay on their sides; elsewhere were the guns, sometimes
reversed and solitary, at others not wholly dismounted, canted at an
angle, with one wheel in place. As there were six of them, complete in
equipments, the scene was extensive and of most admired confusion;
ingenuity had exhausted itself in variety, to enhance picturesqueness
of effect. How the lieutenant in charge accounted for all this
happening without his interference, I do not know. Certainly there was
noise enough, but then that half-hour always was noisy. The
superintendent of that time had, when walking, a trick of grasping the
lapel of his coat with his right hand, and twitching it when
preoccupied. The following day, as he surveyed conditions, it seemed
as if the lapel might come away; but he made us no speech, nor, as far
as I know, was any notice taken of the affair. No real damage had been
done, and the man would indeed have been hard-heartedly conscientious
who would grudge the action which showed him so comical a sight.
I once heard an excellent first lieutenant--Farragut's own through the
principal actions of the War of Secession--say that where there was
obvious inattention to uniform there would always be found slackness
in discipline. It may be, therefore, that our habits as to uniform
were symptomatic of the same easy tolerance which bore with such
extravagances as I have mentioned; the like of which, in overt act,
was not known to me in my later association with the Academy as an
officer. We had a prescribed uniform, certainly; but regulations, like
legislative acts, admit of much variety of interpretation and latitude
in practice, unless there is behind them a strong public sentiment. In
my earlier days there was no public sentiment of the somewhat martinet
kind; such as would compel all alike to wear an overcoat because the
captain felt cold. In practice, there was great laxity in details. I
remember, in later days and later manners, when we were all compelled
to be well buttoned up to the throat, a young officer remarked to me
disparagingly of another, "He's the sort of man, you know, who would
wear a frock-coat unbuttoned." There's nothing like classification. My
friend had achieved a feat in natural history; in ten words he had
defined a species. On another occasion the same man remorselessly
wiped out of existence another species, consecrated by generations of
blue-books and _Naval Regulations_. "I know nothing of superior
officers," he said; "senior officers, if you choose; but superior,
no!" Whether the _Naval Regulations_ have yet recognized this obvious
distinction, whether it is no longer "superior officers," but only
senior officers, who are not to be "treated with contempt," etc., I
have not inquired. Apart from such amusing criticism of the times
past, it is undoubtedly true that attention to minutiae is symptomatic
of a much more important underlying spirit, one of exactness and
precision running through all the management of a ship and affecting
her efficiency. I concede that a thing so trifling as the buttoning of
a frock-coat may indicate a development and survival of the fittest;
but in 1855-60 frock-coats had not been disciplined, and in accordance
with the tone of the general service we midshipmen were tacitly
indulged in a similar freedom. This tolerance may have been in part a
reaction from the vexatious and absurd interference of a decade before
with such natural rights as the cut of the beard--not as matter of
neatness, but of pattern. Even for some time after I graduated, unless
I misunderstood my informants, officers in the British navy were not
permitted to wear a full beard, nor a mustache; and we had out-breaks
of similar regulative annoyance in our own service, one of which
furnished Melville with a striking chapter. Discussing the matter in
my presence once, the captain of a frigate said, "There is one reply
to objectors; if they do not wish to conform, they can leave the
service." Clearly, however, a middle-aged man cannot throw up his
profession thus easily.