Another circumstance that may have contributed to indifference to

details of dress was the carefulness with which the old-time sea

officers had constantly to look after the set and trim of the canvas.

Every variation of the wind, every change of course, every

considerable manoeuvre, involved corresponding changes in the

disposition of the sails, which must be effected not only correctly,

but with a minute exactness extending to half a hundred seemingly

trivial details, upon precision in which depended--and justly--an

officer's general reputation for officer-like character. Not only so,

but the mere weight of rigging and sails, and the stretching resultant

on such strain, caused recurring derangements, which, permitted,

became slovenliness. Yards accurately braced, sheets home alike,

weather leaches and braces taut, with all the other and sundry

indications which a well-trained eye instinctively sought and noted,

were less the dandyism than the self-respecting neatness of a

well-dressed ship, and were no bad substitute, as tests, for buttoned

frock-coats. The man without fault in the one might well be pardoned,

by others as well as himself, for neglects which had never occurred to

him to be such. His attention was centred elsewhere, as a man may

think more of his wife's dress than his own. After all, one cannot be

always stretched with four pins, as the French say; there must be some

give somewhere.

The frock was then the working coat of the navy. There was fuller

dress for exceptional occasions, in which, at one festive muster early

in the cruise, we all had to appear, to show that we had it; but

otherwise it was generally done up in camphor. The jacket, which was

prescribed to the midshipmen of the Academy, had informal recognition

in the service, and we took our surviving garments of that order with

us to sea, to wear them out. But, while here and there some officer

would sport one, they could scarcely be called popular. One of our

lieutenants, indeed, took a somewhat sentimental view of the jacket.

"There was Mr. S.," he said to me, speaking of a brother midshipman,

"on deck yesterday with a jacket. It looked so tidy and becoming. If

there had been anything aloft out of the way, I could say to him,

'Mr. S., just jump up there, will you, and see what is the matter?'"

War, which soon afterwards followed with its stern preoccupations and

incidental deprivations, induced inevitably deterioration in matters

of dress. With it the sack-coat, or pilot-jacket, burrowed its way in,

the cut and insignia of these showing many variations. The

undergraduates at the Academy in my day had for all uses a

double-breasted jacket; but it was worn buttoned, or not, at choice.

On the rolling collar a gold foul anchor--an anchor with a rope cable

twined round it--was prescribed; but, while a standard embroidered

pattern was supplied at the Academy store, those who wished procured

for themselves metal anchors, and these not only were of many shapes

and sizes, but for symmetrical pinning in place demanded an accuracy

of eye and hand which not every one had. The result was variegated and

fanciful to a degree; but I doubt if any of the officers thought aught

amiss. So the regulation vest buttoned up to the chin, but very many

had theirs made with rolling collar, to show the shirt. I had a

handsome, very dandy, creole classmate, whom an admiring family kept

always well supplied with fancy shirts; and I am sure, if precisians

of the present day could have seen him starting out on a Saturday

afternoon to pay his visits, with everything just so--except in a

regulation sense--and not a back hair out of place, they must have

accepted the results as a testimony to the value of the personal

factor in uniform. Respect for individual tastes was rather a mark of

that time in the navy. Seamen handy with their needle were permitted,

if not encouraged, to embroider elaborate patterns, in divers colors,

on the fronts of their shirts, and turned many honest pennies by doing

the like for less skillful shipmates. Pride in personal appearance,

dandyism, is quite consonant with military feeling, as history has

abundantly shown; and it may be that something has been lost as well

as gained in the suppression of individual action, now when an

inspecting officer may almost be said to carry with him a yard-stick

and micrometer to detect deviations.

A very curious manifestation of this disposition to bedeck the body

was the prevalence of tattooing. If not universal, it was very nearly

so among seamen of that day. Elaborate designs covering the chest, or

back, or arms, were seen everywhere, when the men were stripped on

deck for washing. There was no possible inducement to this except a

crude love of ornament, or a mere imitation of a prevailing fashion,

which is another manifestation of the same propensity. The

inconvenience of being branded for life should have been felt by men

prone to desertion; but the descriptive lists which accompany every

crew were crowded with such remarks as, "Goddess of Liberty, r. f.

a."--right forearm--the which, if a man ran away, helped the police of

the port to identify him. My memory does not retain the various

emblems thus perpetuated in men's skins; they were largely patriotic

and extremely conventional, each practised tattooer having doubtless

his own particular style. Many midshipmen of my time acquired these

embellishments. I wonder if they have not since been sorry.

IV

THE NAVAL ACADEMY IN ITS INTERIOR WORKINGS

PRACTICE CRUISES

1855-60

In the preceding pages my effort has been to reconstitute for the

reader the navy, in body and in spirit, as it was when I entered in

1856 and had been during the period immediately preceding. There was

no marked change up to 1861, when the War of Secession began. The

atmosphere and environment which I at first encountered upon my

entrance to the Naval Academy, in 1856, had nothing strange, or even

unfamiliar, to a boy who had devoured Cooper and Marryat--not as mere

tales of adventure, but with some real appreciation and understanding

of conditions as by them depicted. I had studied, as well as been

absorbed by them. Cooper is much more of an idealist and romancer than

is Marryat, who belongs essentially to the realistic school. Some of

the Englishman's presentations may be exaggerated, though not beyond

probability--elaborated would perhaps be a juster word--and in one

passage he expressly abjures all willingness to present a caricature

of the seaman he had known. Cooper, on the other hand, while his sea

scenes are well worked up, has given us personalities which, tested by

Marryat's, are made out of the whole cloth; creations, if you will,

but not resemblances. Marryat entered the navy earlier than his rival,

and followed the sea longer; his experience was in every way wider.

Even in my time could be seen justifications of his portrayal; but

who ever saw the like of Tom Coffin, Trysail, or Boltrope?

The interested curiosity concerning all things naval which possessed

me, and held me enthralled by the mere sight of an occasional

square-rigged vessel, such as at rare intervals passed our home on the

Hudson, fifty miles from the sea, led me also to pore over a copy of

the _Academy Regulations_ which the then superintendent, Captain Louis

Goldsborough, (afterwards Admiral), had sent my father. The two had

been acquaintances in Paris, in the twenties of the century and of

their own ages. I have always had a morbid fondness for registers and

time-tables, and over them have wasted precious hours; but on this

occasion the practice saved me a year. I discovered that, contrary to

the established rule at the Military Academy, an appointee to the

Naval might enter any class for which he could pass the examinations.

Further inquiry confirmed this, and I set about fitting myself. At

that date, even more than at present, the standard of admission to the

two academies had to take into account the very differing facilities

for education in different parts of the country, as well as the

strictly democratic method of appointment. This being in the gift of

the representative of the congressional district, the candidates came

from every section; and, being selected by the various considerations

which influence such patronage, the mass of lads who presented

themselves necessarily differed greatly in acquirements. Hence, to

enter either Annapolis or West Point only very rudimentary knowledge

was demanded. Having grown up myself so far amid abundant opportunity,

and been carefully looked after, I found that I was quite prepared to

enter the class above the lowest, except in one or two minor matters,

easily picked up. Thus forewarned, I came forearmed. There were

probably in every class a dozen who could have done the same, but they

accepted the prevailing custom without question. I believe I was the

only one fortunate enough to make this gain. In some instances before,

and in many after, the academic work was for certain classes

compressed within three years, but I was singular in entering a class

already of a twelvemonth's standing.

About my own examination I remember nothing except that it was

successful; but one incident occurred in my hearing which has stuck by

me for a half-century. One other youth underwent the same tests. He

had already once entered, two or three years before, and afterwards

had failed to pass one of the semi-annual tests. Such cases frequently

were dropped into the next lower class, but the rule then was that a

second similar lapse was final. This had befallen my present

associate; but he had "influence," which obtained for him another

appointment, conditional upon passing the requirements for the third

class, fourth being the lowest. Examinations then were oral, not

written; and, preoccupied though I was with my own difficulties, I

could not but catch at times sounds of his. He was being questioned in

grammar and in parsing, which I have heard--I do not know whether

truly--are now looked upon as archaic methods of teaching; and the

sentence propounded to him was, "Mahomet was driven from Mecca, but he

returned in triumph." His rendering of the first words I did not hear,

my attention not being arrested until "but," which proved to him a

truly disjunctive conjunction. "But!" he ejaculated--"but!" and

paused. Then came the "practical" leap into the unknown. "'But' is an

adverb, qualifying 'he,' showing what he is doing." Poor fellow, it

was no joke to him, nor probably his fault, but that of circumstances.

When released from the ordeal, we stood round together, awaiting

sentence. He was in despair, nor could I honestly encourage him. "Look

at you," he said, "as quiet as if nothing had happened"--I was by no

means confident that I had cause for elation. "If I were as sure that

I had passed as that you have, I should be skipping all over the

place." I never heard of him again; but suppose from his name, which I

remember, and his State, of which I am less sure, that he took, and in

any event would have taken, the Confederate side in the coming

troubles. His loss by this failure was therefore probably less than it

then seemed.

An intruder, in breach of well-settled precedent, might have expected

to be looked on askance by the class which I thus unusually entered.

Not the faintest indication of discontent was ever shown, nor I

believe felt, even by those over whom I subsequently passed by such

standing as I established, although the fact meant promotion over

them. The spirit of the officer and the gentleman, which disdained

hazing, disdained discourtesy equally, and thrust aside with the

generosity of youth the jealousy that mature years more readily

cherishes towards competitors. The habit in those days was to

distinguish classes, not by the year of graduation, but by that of

entry--colloquially, the so-and-so "Date"--a manner derived from an

earlier period, when there was no other chronological point of

departure for the career; and in those "days before the flood" nothing

would have tempted us to depart from a time-honored custom. "Dates"

frequently established among their contemporaries reputations

analogous to those of individuals. At that time the "'41 Date," then

in the prime of life, was obnoxious to those below it; not for its own

fault, but because of its numbers, which, with promotion strictly by

seniority, constituted a superincumbent mass that could not but be

regarded bitterly by those who followed. At present there would be the

consolation that retirement, though distant, would ultimately sweep

them all away nearly simultaneously; but there was then no retired

list. Whatever the motive, the Secretary of the Navy had been moved to

introduce, in 1841, over two hundred midshipmen,[4] which put an

almost total stop to appointments for several subsequent years, and

gave the "Date" the invidious distinction it enjoyed. The well-known

character in the service whose hoisting a demijohn for a flag I have

before mentioned, and who found this great overplus above him, was

credited with saying that those of them who did not drink themselves

to death would strut themselves to death--a comment which testified

rather to the warmth of his feelings than to the merits of the case.

Of course, the greater the total, the more numerous the unworthy; and

the unfortunate natural bias of mankind notices these more readily

than it does the capable.

The class to which I now found myself admitted was the "'55 Date," and

whatever their reputation in the service, then or thereafter, they

thought themselves uncommonly fine fellows, distinctly above the

average--not perhaps in attainments, which was a subsidiary matter,

but in tone and fellowship. One among them, a turn-back from the

previous Date, and for two years my room-mate, used to declare

enthusiastically that he was glad of his misfortune, finding himself

in so much better a crowd. I doubt if I could have gone as far as

this, but in the general estimate I agreed fully. We numbered then

twenty-eight, having started with forty-nine a twelvemonth before.

Three years later we were graduated, twenty. The dwindling numbers

testifies rather to the imperfection of educational processes

throughout the country than to the severity of the tests, which were

very far below those of to-day. I have often heard it said, and

believe it true, that the difficulty was less with the knowledge--that

is, the nominal acquirements--of the appointees than with the then

prevalent methods of study and instruction, which had debauched the

powers of application. My father, after a long experience, used to

think that upon the whole there was better promise in a youth who came

with nothing more than the three R's, which then constituted

substantially the demands of the Military Academy, than in one with a

more pretentious showing. The first had not to unlearn bad habits. An

illustration that the courses were not too severe, for an average man

beginning with the very smallest equipment, is afforded by a true

story of the time. A lad from one of the Southern States,--Tennessee,

I think,--having obtained an appointment, and being too poor to travel

otherwise, walked his way to West Point, and then failed of admission.

The affecting circumstances becoming known, a number of officers

dubbed together and supported him for a year at a neighboring

excellent school. He then entered, passed his course successfully, and

proved a very respectable officer. There was, I believe, nothing

brilliant in his record, except the earnestness and resolution shown;

the absence of these, under demands which, though not excessive, were

rigid, was the principal cause of failures.

The requirements were certainly moderate, and our healths needed not

to suffer from over-application. The marking system of that time gave

the numeral 4 as a maximum, with which standard 2.5 was a "passing

average." He who reached that figure, as the combined result of his

course of recitations and stated examinations, passed the test, and

went on, or was graduated. The recitation marks being posted weekly,

we had constant knowledge of our chances; and of the necessity of

greater effort, if in danger, whether of failure or of being

outstripped by a competitor. The latter motive was rarely evidenced,

although I have seen the anxious and worried looks of one struggling

for pre-eminence over a rival who amused himself by merely prodding

where he might have surpassed. It is only fair to add, as I also

witnessed, that no congratulations were more warmly received by the

victor than those of the man who had so constantly trod on his heels.

It is needless to say, to those who know the world in any sphere of

life, that a certain proportion were satisfied with merely scraping

through. The authorities leaned to mercy's side, where there was

reasonable promise of a man's making a good sea officer. In the later

period of written examinations an instructor of much experience said

to me, "If a man's paper comes near 2.5, I always read it over again

with a leaning towards a more favorable judgment on points;" and he

accompanied the words with a gesture which dramatically suggested a

leaning so pronounced that, it would certainly topple over the right

way. Not strictly judicial, I fear, but perhaps practical. There were

rare instances who played with 2.5, enticed perhaps by the mysterious

charms of danger. Such a case I heard of, a man of unquestioned

ability, who it was rumored boasted that he would get just above 2.5,

and as near as he could. He was read dispassionately, and in the event

came out 2.47. As an effort at approximation, this may be considered a

success; but for passing it was inadequate, and his general character

did not bias the final appeal in his favor. He was not dropped,

indeed, but had to undergo a second examination three weeks later: a

circumstance calculated to cloud his summer. A more amusing instance

came directly under my observation. He was a candidate for entrance,

and I then head of one of the departments of the Academy. Although I

had nothing to do with admissions, his father came in to see me

immediately after the results were known. He had a marked brogue, and

was slightly "elevated," by success and by liquor. Placing his hand

confidentially on my arm, he whispered: "He's got in; he's got in." I

expressed my sympathy. He drew himself up with a smile of exultation,

and said: "He only got a 2.7. I said to him, '----, why didn't you do

better than that?--sure you could.' 'Whisht, father,' he replied, 'why

should I do better, when all I need's a 2.5?' Just fancy his thinking

of that!" cried the proud parent. "The 'cuteness of him?" I forget

this lad's further career, if I ever knew it.

One of the distinguishing features of the two academies then, and I

believe now, was the division of the classes into small sections,

under several instructors. This gave the advantage of very frequent

recitations for each student. None was safe in counting upon being

overlooked on any day, and the teacher was kept familiar with the

progress and promise of every one under his charge. It admitted also

of a more extensive course for those who could stick in the higher

sections--a kind of elective, in which the election depended on the

teacher, not the taught. Thoroughness of acquisition was favored by

this steady pressure, the virtue of which lay less in its weight than

in its constancy; but it is practicable only where large resources

permit many tutors to be employed. The Naval Academy has had frequent

difficulty, not chiefly of a money kind, but because the needed naval

officers cannot always be spared from general service. A sound policy

has continuously favored the employment of sea officers, where

possible; not because they can often be equal in acquirement to chosen

men from the special fields in question, but because through them the

spirit and authority of the profession pervades the class-room as well

as the drill-ground, and so forwards the highly specialized product in

view. Besides, as I have heard observed with admiration by a very able

civilian, head of one of the departments, who had several officers

under him, the habit of turning the hand to many different

occupations, and of doing in each just what was ordered, following

directions explicitly, gives naval officers as a class an adaptability

and a facility which become professional characteristics. It may be

interesting to note that the same was commonly remarked of the

old-time seaman. His specialty was everything--versatility; and he was

handy under the least expected circumstances, on shore as well as

afloat. Burgoyne used chaffingly to attribute his misfortunes at

Saratoga to the aptitude with which a British midshipman and seamen

threw a bridge over the upper Hudson. "If it had not been for you," he

said to the culprit, "we should never have got as far as this."

In my day the proportion of officers was less than afterwards, when

the graduates themselves took up the task of instruction. There were

two who taught us mathematics, one of whom remains in my memory as the

very best teacher, to the extent of his knowledge, that I ever knew.

The professional branches, seamanship and gunnery, fell naturally to

the sea officers who conducted the drills. These studies, as pursued,

reflected the transition condition of the period which I have before

depicted; the grasp on the old still was more tenacious than that on

the new. The preparation of text-books for young seamen far antedated

the establishment of naval schools. There was one, _The Sheet Anchor_,

by Darcy Lever, a British seaman, published before 1820, which had

great vogue among us. Among other virtues, it was illustrated with

very taking pictures of ships performing manoeuvres in the midst of

highly conventional waves. As far as memory serves me, I think we were

justified in regarding it as more instructive than the American work

assigned to us by the course, _The Kedge Anchor_, by a master in our

navy named Brady. A kedge, the unprofessional must know, is a light

anchor, dropped for a momentary stop, or to haul a ship ahead, the

title being in so far very consonant to the object of instruction;

whereas the sheet-anchor is the great and last stand-by of a vessel,

let go as a final resource after the two big "bowers," which

constitute the usual reliance. The rareness with which the sheet

anchor touched ground (the bottom) gave rise to the proverb, "To go

ashore with the sheet anchor," as the ultimate expression of attention

to duty; and the story ran of a British captain, a devoted

ship-keeper, who, to a lieutenant remonstrating on the little

privilege of leave enjoyed by the junior officers, replied: "Sir, when

I and the sheet anchor go ashore, you may go with us." By the

prescription of our seniors we had to tie to _The Kedge Anchor_, let

us hope in the cause of progress, to haul us ahead; but in a tight

place _The Sheet Anchor_ was our recourse, and by it think I may say

we--swore. I always mistrusted _The Kedge Anchor_ after my researches

into a mysterious sentence--"A celebrated master, now a commander, in

the navy never served the bowsprit rigging all over." In the old-time

frigates, of the days of Nelson and Hull, the master was at the head

of the marling-spike division of the ship's economy, being, in fact,

the descendant of the master (captain) of more than a century earlier,

who managed the ship while soldiers commanded and fought her. But the

masters were not in the line of promotion; in the British navy they

rarely rose, in our own much more rarely. Who, then, was this

celebrated master, now a commander? Eventually I found the sentence in

a British book, and my faith in the pure product of American home

industry was suddenly shaken. It is only fair to say that books on

seamanship, being essentially an accumulation of facts, must be more

or less compilations. Methods were too well established to allow much

originality, even of treatment.

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