THE GRADUATE.
After the June examinations were over we went into camp again at the
usual place. This year it was named “Camp Thayer” in honor of a former
superintendent of the Academy, and as first classmen have precedence over
all other cadets, it was “our camp.” Among the young lady visitors were
many who had been to the Point for several summers. They seemed like old
friends and the pleasure of meeting again was mutual. The first thing
of importance for us to do was to arrange for the celebration of the
Fourth of July and for a special hop that evening. We elected officers
to conduct the holiday exercises and to have charge of the special hop.
It was not obligatory upon any one to attend those festivities, but as
the weather was perfect and as there were no other inviting places to go,
everybody who could be present attended the exercises held in the morning
in the pretty little chapel,[57] and in the evening some witnessed the
handsome pyrotechnic display, while others attended the hop, and as usual
the Mess Hall was beautifully decorated and used for the special hop.[58]
In my day, by special dispensation, twelve cadets of the first class were
permitted to take meals at the Misses Thompson, who lived in General
Washington’s old log Headquarter House, in Professor’s Row. These ladies
were quite old when I knew them; the oldest of the three sisters died
of old age shortly before I went there to board. It was not easy to get
a seat at the Misses Thompson’s table, and when a cadet secured one
without any conditions imposed he generally “willed it to his plebe.”
And this is the way I obtained mine. My predecessor had a seat there and
he willed it to me, but as I could not go there until I became a first
classman certain members of the three classes ahead of me had the seat on
condition that it should come to me when I became eligible. But this was
not all, as may be seen from the following (old form) permit:
West Point, New York, June 19, 1872.
Cadet R⸺d, Private 2nd Class “C” Co., has permission to take
his meals at the Misses Thompson (to have the seat last
occupied by Cadet R⸺p), his name having been proposed and
accepted.
J. F. S⸺h,
Com’d’g Co. “C.”
E. U⸺n,
Comdt. Cadets.
Approved:
T. H. R⸺r,
Superintendent.
JULY 4 1872
ANNIVERSARY
OF THE
Independence of the United States
CELEBRATION AND HOP BY
THE CORPS OF CADETS
TO WHICH
The pleasure of your Company is respectfully requested.
Ceremonies in the Chapel to commence at
Ten A. M.
Marshall, Orator, Reader,
CADET COFFIN. CADET TOTTEN. CADET EATON.
President,
CADET HOYLE.
Hop Commencing at Eight P. M.
Floor Managers:
CADET BIRNEY, CADET O’CONNOR, CADET LA POINT.
Pyrotechnic Display on the Cavalry Plain.
The father of these old ladies rendered most valuable services to General
Washington during the Revolutionary War, and as his family was left in
humble circumstances they were permitted to live at the Point and board
twelve cadets. We used to think that Miss Amelia was about ninety years
old and that Miss Kate was seventy-five. Miss Kate for months talked of
making a trip to New York, but finally Miss Amelia said: “Catharine could
not go, as she was too young and giddy.”
There was an old saying at the Point in my day that “extras breed
extras,” and I found it so in my case. While I was serving the two weeks
confinement that were given me, in lieu of the last two of the six extras
for “Off Limits,” an old boy friend from home visited the Point, and I
got permission to be with him in rear of the guard tents for half an
hour. We could not talk about everything we wanted to in half an hour,
so I told him just how to run the gauntlet, that is, how to cross the
sentinel’s post and get to my tent, which he did. At that particular
time of day nearly all of my classmates were out of camp; some on permit
visiting friends at the hotel, some boating and others anywhere fancy
took them. I had the walls of my tent down, so that my friend could not
be seen, for it was a violation of the regulations to have a citizen
in the body of the camp. He and I were having a good time talking over
boyhood days. R⸺s, a classmate, was officer of the day, and thinking
that I was lonesome he came around to cheer me up, saying that my two
weeks was nearly over, but, alas, he had no sooner opened my tent than
he saw my friend, and as the officer of the day is “on honor” to report
all violations of the regulations that he sees, he had to report me for
“Citizen in tent,” and to send my friend at once out of camp. I have
never seen that friend since to tell him that I was given two weeks’
confinement for that violation of the regulations.
C⸺s was a Cadet Captain, and one day when walking with a lady between the
camp and the hotel, the lady raised her parasol, and C⸺s, to be polite,
carried it for her. An officer saw him with the parasol and reported him.
For this serious offense he was reduced to the ranks. It was not long
afterward that the young lady saw him carrying a rifle and pacing to and
fro on Post No. 2, but as he did not wish further punishment he did not
speak to her as she crossed his post; he waited until he was relieved and
then told her why.
We spent some time out in Fort Clinton digging trenches and making
fascines, gabions and a sap roller, thus imitating methods used in the
attack and defense of a fortified place. We also spent some time in the
laboratory making rockets, bombs and other articles used at times by the
military in time of war. With the assistance of the plebes we constructed
pontoon bridges some distance out into the Hudson.
In my day we played base ball occasionally, but it was not a very popular
game at the Point, not like football has been of recent years. Boating
was allowed then, and the first, second and third classes each owned
a number of row boats, and during camp and in barracks on Saturday
afternoons the boats were always in demand. But since 1875 boating has
not been allowed.
One evening, when I was officer of the guard, not long after taps, the
sentinel on No. 1 challenged: “Who comes there?” and as I was awake and
in the first guard tent, I heard the reply: “Friend with lemons,” and
also the sentinel’s call, “Halt! Friend with lemons, Corporal of the
Guard, Post No. 1.” As the reply was an unusual one I went out, and
seeing a man in civilian dress, standing alone, I directed the Corporal
to advance the friend with lemons. The man advanced and began to deliver
lemons. He had lemons in every pocket, and he had a good many pockets,
too. There were more lemons than the Corporal and I could carry (for
there are no pockets in cadet uniforms), so I called other members of
the guard to help us carry lemons. The gentleman proved to be an old
army officer who had entered the army from private life and earned a
Brigadier’s star during the war. He said he thought he would treat the
guard that night, and that while I sent to the tank for a bucket of
ice water he would go back to the hotel (not far from camp) for sugar.
About the time two members of the guard returned with ice water No. 1
challenged again, and the answer this time was “Friend with sugar.” It
did not take long to advance the friend with sugar and to disarm him, not
only of sugar, but of a package of cakes, too. We were soon feasting,
and it seemed to please the General to see us enjoying his treat. He
knew that we violated the regulations by admitting him to camp, but he
promised not to report us. He then treated us to cigars, and he and I
sat under the trees for an hour or two discussing topics of interest to
cadets. In speaking of the hops I told the General how B⸺y, C⸺s and I
had taken many lessons in dancing, and that we were too timid to venture
on the floor at a hop, but that we had agreed with one another to attend
our next hop, and to waltz or treat at the Dutch woman’s. The next
evening was the time for the three to dance, and just as I was ready to
start for the hall[59] the General called for me, and we went to the hop
together. As we approached the Academic Building we observed that the hop
room was well filled. We went to a corner of the room, and the General
surprised me by presenting me to his wife, for he had talked as though
he was alone at the Point. His good wife said that she had come to the
hop in the hotel ’bus with other ladies. The music ceased and a classmate
brought a very pretty young lady over near us, thanked her and said that
she was the best dancer in the room. The General again surprised me by
saying: “Mr. R⸺d, this is my daughter.” At that moment the orchestra
struck up a waltz and the young lady said: “Come, Mr. R⸺d, this is our
dance.” I protested that I did not waltz, but she put my arm around her
waist, saying: “Papa has told me of your agreement to waltz to-night or
to treat at the Dutch woman’s, so come on;” and I have waltzed ever
since then. After I got started to waltz I found the hops very attractive
places to be, and I was more than sorry that I had not met Miss S⸺r long
before I did. It was a long way from the hotel to the hop-room, too far
for young ladies who danced much to walk, so they generally rode, but the
cadets could not ride with them, as it was “Off Limits” to get into a
vehicle. There were always plenty of young ladies at the hops, and some
of them traveled several miles to attend; some came from Highland Falls,
some from Cold Springs and others from Garrison’s, besides those from the
West Point Hotel. They may come from greater distances now that there is
the West Shore Railroad to travel on.
At one of the hops I met a New York lady. She was a good dancer and a
good talker, too, but she was not very well posted on the history of
our country. She asked me what state I was from, and when I replied
“Indiana,” she said: “From way out there! You have plenty of buffalo and
other wild animals there, don’t you?”
There is something strange about the partiality young ladies manifest for
the cadets. I have seen many an instance where a young lady would use
all her power to be with a certain cadet, and at his graduating hop and
afterward she would bestow her favors on some member of the next class;
a cadet and an officer, although one and the same man, were different
persons in her eyes. But the young lady, to succeed, had to be very
careful of her conduct toward the cadets in the next class that she
wished to be friendly with after the first class graduated, because if
she had ever been rude to them they would have nothing to do with her.
Our summer hops began at 8 and closed at 11 p. m., but we could stay
later at the Fourth of July hop, the last summer one, and at the
graduating hop in June. The following were the popular dances in my day:
Waltz, Galop, Deux Temps, Trois Temps, Lanciers, Redowa, Polka,
Polka-Redowa, Quadrille, Schottische and Medley.
AT THE HOP.
“Yes, I’m here, I suppose you’re delighted,
You’d heard I was not coming down?
Why I’ve been here a week—rather early—
I know, but it’s horrid in town.
At Boston? Most certainly, thank you,
This music is perfectly sweet;
Of course I like dancing in summer,
It’s warm but I don’t mind the heat.
The clumsy thing! Oh! how he hurt me!
I really can’t dance any more—
Let’s walk—see they’re forming a Lanciers;
These square dances are such a bore,
My cloak, oh! I really don’t need it,
Well carry it—so, in the folds,
I hate it, but Ma made me bring it,
She’s frightened to death about colds.
This is rather cooler than dancing,
They’re lovely piazzas up here;
Those lanterns look sweet in the bushes,
It’s lucky the night is so clear.
I am rather tired of this corner—
Very well, if you like, I don’t care—
But you’ll have to sit on the railing—
You see there is only one chair.
So long since you’ve seen me!—Oh! ages—
Let’s see, why it’s ten days ago.
Seems years—Oh! of course—don’t look spooney,
It isn’t becoming you know.
How bright the stars seem to-night, don’t they?
What was it you said about eyes?
How sweet!—Why you must be a poet—
One never can tell till he tries.
Why can’t you be sensible, Harry?
I don’t like men’s arms on my chair,
Be still, if you don’t stop that nonsense
I’ll get up and leave you, so there!
Oh! please don’t—I don’t want to hear it—
A boy like you, talking of love.
My answer—Well, Sir, you shall have it—
Just wait till I get off my glove.
See that? Well you needn’t look tragic,
Its only a solitaire ring—
Of course, I am proud of it, very—
It’s rather an elegant thing.
Engaged!—yes—why, didn’t you know it?
I thought the news must have reached here,
Why, the wedding will be in October,
The happy man? Charley LeClear.
Why don’t blame me—I tried to stop you,
But you would go on like a goose.
I’m sorry it happened—forget it—
Don’t think of it—don’t—What’s the use?
There’s somebody coming—don’t look so—
Get up on the railing again—
Can’t you seem as if nothing had happened?
I never saw such geese as men.
Ah! Charley, you’ve found me! a galop?
The ‘Bahn frei’? Yes, take my bouquet,
And my fan if you will, now I’m ready—
You’ll excuse me, of course, Mr. Gray.”
One day I received a letter from home, saying that my father, mother and
sister were coming east and would pay me a visit. I wrote at once and
said that I would be delighted to see them any time after the fifteenth
of July, but not before then, as I would be too busy to see much of them.
The fact was I would not get out of confinement before the fifteenth of
July, but I did not tell them. They came the latter part of July, and we
were delighted to be together several hours every day during the visit.
They were charmed with the beauty of the place, and my mother said when
I returned home next year that I need not take my trunk in the back yard
again to open it, for now that she had seen what a sweet and clean place
West Point was she was satisfied there were no bedbugs there.
There is a good deal of cactus, of the prickly pear variety, growing on
the hills about the Point, and one day when B⸺m’s father and mother were
there from Cincinnati they wanted some to take home with them, and Mr.
B⸺m kindly offered to send some to my father, if I wished him to. Of
course I wished it. I expected the folks at home to speak about receiving
the cactus, hence I did not refer to it for a long time, and when I did
my mother told me not to speak of it to my father, as he was very angry
about the cactus. It appeared that Mr. B⸺m put it in a box and sent it
prepaid to my father, and as he supposed that I had written about it, he
did not write. My father opened the box and not knowing anything about
cactus, he took it cautiously in his hands, with the natural painful
results. He dropped the cactus, and, as luck went, he rubbed his hands on
his face and neck, and they too became filled with the stickers.
Just across the south line of cadet limits in my day was Kinsley’s apple
orchard, and many a cadet run it there for apples. One day Mr. Kinsley,
himself an old graduate of the Academy, caught several cadets in his
orchard, so he hitched up at once and drove to the superintendent’s
office to report the case. The superintendent said that if Mr. Kinsley
could identify the cadets they should be punished; he said he could
identify them. So when the battalion was formed Mr. Kinsley passed down
the line, but failed to identify them, for the reason, he said, that all
cadets looked alike.
One Saturday afternoon four of us first classmen stuffed pillow cases in
the breasts of our coats and deliberately went to Kinsley’s for apples,
and we proposed to help ourselves, too. Kinsley’s house was in one corner
of the orchard and there were stone fences around and through the center
of the orchard. We went to different trees and found all the apples we
wanted on the ground, so we set to work filling our pillow cases. B⸺y
filled his, set it by a stone fence on the far side from the house,
and then boldly climbed the fence and ventured to trees nearer to the
house. His approach made the chickens cackle and the ducks quack, thus
attracting a lady’s attention. She came out of the house and spoke to
B⸺y, who had three or four apples in his hands. We heard their voices and
then emptied most of our apples on the ground and ran away, as there was
no use of any more of us getting caught than necessary. After we had been
back in barracks awhile we went over to see how B⸺y had gotten away. He
said that Mrs. Kinsley told him that she did not object to any one taking
two or three apples as he had done, but that she did not want the cadets
to carry them off by the bag full. She then asked him who we were, and
he told her we might be plebes, as older cadets knew better than to do
such a thing. We asked him what he did with his pillow case of apples,
and he said: “You don’t suppose I had the cheek, after my narrow escape,
to bring away a bag full, do you?” Notwithstanding this statement, and
the fact that B⸺y was the first Captain of the Corps, we put our hands up
into his chimney, moved a stick and down fell his pillow case of apples.
Along in December, when we felt confident of graduating the next June,
we began to discuss what we would adopt as our “Class Ring.” Jewelers in
New York, Philadelphia and other cities, knowing that it was customary
for each class at the Point to adopt a certain handsome ring as its class
ring, submitted samples to us. Upon receiving about twenty samples we
held class meetings, and after much discussion part of the class wanted
to adopt one of the designs while the rest wanted to adopt another one.
Finally we agreed to abide by a majority vote, but when the ballots were
counted there was a tie. Then we agreed to take two pieces of paper of
the same size, and to write the maker’s name of one of the two rings on
one paper, and the maker’s name of the other ring on the other paper, to
put the two papers in a cap, shake them up, hold the cap above the head,
and to let T⸺r draw one paper which should decide the case. This was done
and ratified; the ring adopted was a gold ring with a large setting;
there were thirteen stars around the setting, and on one side under the
stars there was an eagle with one wing spread; on the other side under
the stars was a helmet on crossed rifles with the last two figures of
the year of our graduation in the lower angle of the cross, and from
here around to the eagle was a chain. It was agreed that each member
of the class could select his own setting, and some selected amethyst,
some topaz and others blood-stone or onyx. It was also agreed that each
member could use his pleasure about having the “Class Motto” cut into the
setting. A Latin motto was suggested, but many of us opposed it, because
the Academic Board had not made Latin a part of the course of study at
West Point, but after much deliberation, my class, by a close vote,
decided to add Latin to our course, and that “Omnia pro Patria” should
embody the entire course of Latin for our class, and for fear that we
might forget it we adopted it as the motto of our class. We then agreed
that the motto, when cut in the setting of the class ring, should be put
on a ribbon, partially enclosing the last two figures of our graduating
year. I now remember my Latin course better than any other course of
study, for I have never forgotten that “Omnia pro Patria” means “All for
Country.” About this time we also selected the photographer that should
make our Class Albums,[60] but left it to each member to make his own
selection of pictures for it. There is an official photographer now. As
each cadet had to pay for his own ring and album, it was agreed that he
could buy them at his pleasure, but early in January nearly every one
in the class was wearing his class ring and in May the albums began to
arrive.
One day a misunderstanding arose between a yearling and a plebe that
nothing but a fight could settle. Seconds and a referee were chosen, and
they and others wishing to see the fight repaired to old Fort Clinton.
The fight was begun and several rounds fought, when one of those present
heard footsteps, and peeping through the brush he saw a blue uniform and
gave the alarm. A stampede followed, and in a moment the whole party
scaled the parapet, and almost tumbled over one another in their mad
haste down toward Flirtation Walk, where trees and bushes covered their
retreat. The referee declared the fight off. The principals respected one
another’s fighting qualities and afterward became warm friends. The only
one in the party that the officer recognized was B⸺p, the referee and a
captain of my class, and for being present at the fight he was reduced to
the ranks.
A PERMIT (OLD FORM).
West Point, March __, 1873.
Cadet ________, Private 1st Class “B” Co., has permission to
get a drawing table from the Engineering Drawing Room and keep
it in his quarters until he finishes his drawing of Noizet’s
Front, having been in the hospital and excused from attending
recitations for over a week, he was not able to complete the
drawing in the Academy.
_____________,
Com’d’g Co “B.”
Respectfully referred to the Professor of Engineering,
By command of
Col. _____________
_____________,
Adjutant.
Respectfully returned app’d,
_____________,
Prof. of Eng.
Approved:
_____________,
Superintendent.
In January, after the examinations were over, the daily papers informed
us that the Secretary of War had written to the Superintendent saying
that it was his intention to require the presence of the Corps of Cadets
in Washington on March 4th next, on the occasion of the inauguration
of the President-elect, a graduate of the Academy. The secretary did
this because he was gratified by the conduct and marked improvement
and bearing of the young gentlemen at the Academy, and he believed the
duties which a trip of this kind would require them to perform would be
a relaxation from the close confinement to which they were subjected at
the Academy. Furthermore, he desired to show the people gathered at the
Capitol from all parts of the country a body of young military men which
he believed in discipline, drill and orderly appearance and the qualities
that make a military cadet could not be surpassed.
In due time the necessary orders were issued, and with knapsacks on our
backs we arrived in Washington on the 3d of March. We were quartered at
the Ebbitt House, and in the afternoon gave a drill and dress parade
before a large audience in front of the Arlington. In the evening we were
given the freedom of the city, the Delinquency Book having been left at
the Academy. On the 4th we joined the procession and took the post of
honor at the head of the long column. We were without overcoats, and it
was fearfully cold, too. Some of us wore double suits of underclothing,
and as many pairs of white gloves as we could and hold on to our guns.
Bands playing (ours at the head, too), banners and flags waving, bright
eyes beaming upon us, and delicate hands applauding us as we marched on
Pennsylvania avenue, made us forget all about overcoats. We stood in
front of General Grant while the oath as President of the United States
was administered to him. We then marched at the head of the procession
along Pennsylvania avenue and passed General Grant on a reviewing stand
in the White House grounds, where we fell out of the column and saw the
balance of the procession pass. Next to the cadets came some battalions
of U. S. Artillery, then the midshipmen from Annapolis, a battalion of U.
S. Marines, then regiment after regiment of militia, then ex-Presidents
and Vice-Presidents, the U. S. Supreme Court, U. S. Court of Claims,
the Supreme Court of the District of Columbia, the U. S. Senators and
Representatives, Foreign Ministers, Presidential Electors and tens of
thousands more. Of all the military I was especially pleased to see the
Second Connecticut, a magnificent body of well-drilled men, whose lines
were perfect as they passed us, and extended from curb to curb.
A CONCERT
BY THE
ORCHESTRAL BAND
WILL BE GIVEN IN
THE LIBRARY,
THURSDAY, MARCH 27, 1873
COMMENCING AT 7:30 O’CLOCK, P. M.
PROGRAMME.
(No. 7.)
No. 1. March, Tannhauser Wagner
2. Ouverture, Rui Blas Mendelssohn
3. Reminiscences of Weber Godfrey
4. Reveille Galop Rehm
5. Selection, Moses in Egypt Rossini
6. Potpourri, Musical Tour Through Europe Conradi
8. Potpourri, A Musical Joke Sass
[Illustration: _You are respectfully invited to attend the INAUGURATION
BALL on the evening of March 4th 1873_
Managers
_Roscoe Conkling_
_H. Hamlin_
_A. G. Thurman_
_W. T. Hamilton_
_Simon Cameron_
_Z. Chandler_
_J. W. Stevenson_
_J. P. Stockton_
_O. P. Morton_
_F. A. Sawyer_
_Eugene Casserly_
_M. W. Ransom_
_Jno. A. Logan_
_H. B. Anthony_
_T. F. Bayard_
_H. G. Davis_
_M. H. Carpenter_
_J. S. Morrill_
_J. W. Patterson_
_J. G. Blaine_
_H. H. Starkweather_
_J. A. Garfield_
_L. P. Poland_
_Fernando Wood_
_S. S. Marshall_
_H. L. Dawes_
_J. H. Platt Jr._
_D. C. Giddings_
_C. A. Eldridge_
_A. R. Cotton_
_A. A. Sargent_
_Thos. Swann_
_J. B. Chaffee_
_O. D. Conger_
_G. A. Halsey_
_D. W. Voorhees_
_B. F. Butler_
_H. Maynard_
_H. W. Barry_
_Jas. B. Beck_
_P. M. B. Young_
_L. A. Sheldon_
_Gens. W. T. Sherman & E. D. Townsend_
_Gen. W. S. Hancock_
_Gen. M. C. Meigs_
_A. B. Dyer_
_R. B. Marcy_
_J. K. Barnes_
_A. A. Humphreys_
_A. B. Eaton_
_B. Alvard_
_J. H. Wilson_
_J. G. Parke_
_Admirals D. D. Porter & L. M. Goldsborough_
_Adm. B. F. Sands_
_J. Zeilin_
_Dr. J. C. Palmer_
_E. T. Dunn U.S.N._
_Com. C. R. P. Rodgers_
_Ch. Justice Chase_
_Justices Field, Miller, Bradley & Strong_
_Ch. Justice Carter_
_Justices Wylie & McArthur_
_Alex. R. Sheppard_
_H. D. Cooke_
_J. W. Thompson_
_Col. Amos Webster_
_Wm. Dickson_
_John O. Evans_
_Thos. L. Hume_
_John B. Blake_
_A. M. Clapp_
_B. Perley Poore_
_G. S. Gideon_
_H. Kilbourn_
_W. F. Mattingly_
_J. H. Brooks_
_S. R. Bond_
_A. B. Mullett_
_S. H. Kauffmann_
_W. R. Collins_
_Joshua Riley_
_A. Cluss_
_Enoch Totten_
_N. Wilson_
_J. F. Olmstead_
_W. J. Murtagh_
_B. L. Blackford_
_Richard Wallach_
_D. S. Evans_
_J. W. Boteler_
_J. G. Berret_
_Samuel Cross_
_C. J. Hillyer_
_H. M. Hutchinson_
_L. A. Bartlett_
_Wm. Tindall_
_John A. Baker_
_R. T. Auchmuty_
_E. L. Stanton_
_W. D. Colt_]
After the review was over we returned to the Ebbitt House, nearly frozen,
but we “thawed out” in time to attend the inaugural ball in the evening,
and here we had to dance or freeze, as it was bitter cold there. The
decorations were beautiful. There were mottos and coats of arms of the
United States, and of all the States and Territories in the Union,
shining among the festoons of the many flags of red, white and blue; then
there were flags and coats of arms of many foreign nations. Everybody at
this grand ball had to present a ticket of admission, except the cadets
and midshipmen, whose uniforms admitted them.
Upon our return we were met at the Battery in New York by the famous
Seventh (New York) Regiment and escorted to its armory for refreshments.
The march up Broadway was amid a continuous line of spectators, who
applauded us all the way. We saw the regiment as it passed us to take
post as our escort, and we were charmed with their faultless alignments
and movements, and were friends at once. The reception was highly
appreciated as a distinguishing feature of our trip. We reached West
Point at 5 p. m. on the 6th of March, and as we marched to the barracks
the band played “When Johnnie Comes Marching Home Again.” The regular
routine was at once resumed.
In speaking of our drill in Washington one paper said: “The drill of
the West Point Cadets on Pennsylvania avenue was certainly splendid.
The whole battalion went through their various and intricate maneuvers
with such precision that they even surprised some of the military
officers who, in company with the Secretary of War, reviewed them. The
sight was grand, almost beyond description. Thousands of persons viewed
their drills from the streets and indoors, and all were of the opinion
expressed above. If there are any better drilled organizations let them
come along.”
After the January examinations were over first classmen and furloughmen
began to count the days until the first of June, and to hold meetings of
rejoicing on the hundredth, fiftieth and twenty-fifth nights. On the
hundredth night there was a special program, and the following was sung
on that night:
THE HUNDREDTH NIGHT.
Come, fellows, listen to my song,
A pleasant tale and not too long,
Of scenes familiar to each one.
Some have passed and some will come.
The hundredth night has come at last,
And first-class course will soon be past,
Of Cadet gray they’ll take their leave
And give their white pants to their plebe.
It really makes the “immortals” laugh,
To think that they’ll get in the staff.
When asked where they are going to go,
In four years Engineers, you know.
When one more week has had its run,
The Corps will start for Washington.
Clean candle-boxes will be worn.
On us, militia will look with scorn.
To drink will be the greatest crime,
The corps will drill by band clock-time.
Old Emory will march in grand state
And Murray behind will get a late.
Now, second classmen, don’t be glum,
First-class camp quite soon will come.
And then you bet you’ll cut a swell,
And spooney “femmes” at the hotel.
Oh! furlough is a very good thing,
You wear Cit clothes and have your fling.
The Cit you stuff with famous lies,
And if he doubts, you punch his eyes.
Plebeistic youth, lift up your head,
Your yearling path you soon will tread,
Corporal chevrons will grace your arm,
Which fills the beasts with much alarm.
And now we’ve done our level best,
I’ve sung this song by request.
If you don’t like it ’tis not a sin,
To say you think it rather thin.
NOTE 1. The Howitzer, started by the late Colonel Arthur L.
Wagner, Class of ’75, as a small paper, read on the hundredth
night, has grown into a large beautifully illustrated book,
published annually, that now takes the place of Class Albums.
[Illustration: ’73 FROM ’74.
THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY IS REQUESTED AT THE FAREWELL HOP GIVEN TO
THE GRADUATING CLASS BY THE CLASS OF ’74.
FLOOR MANAGERS
J HANSELL FRENCH
LUTHER R. HARE
WILLIS WITTICH.
Committee.
J. HANSELL FRENCH
Wm. H. WHEELER
LOUIS A CRAIG
C. E. SCOTT WOOD
EDGAR B. ROBERTSON
LOTUS NILES
WILLIS WITTICH.
JAS. L. WILSON.
LUTHER R. HARE.
WEST POINT]
As our days to wear cadet gray could now be counted by two figures,
for the second and last time at the Academy, we selected clothes for
“Cit” suits, and as we had all decided to enter the army as “Second
Lieutenants,” we also selected uniforms and accoutrements for ourselves
as officers of that high rank. Military goods dealers and tailors were
frequent visitors at the Point on Saturday afternoons, each claiming to
give the most for the least money. We had great trouble about the stripes
on the pants, the color of the cloth in the shoulder knots and straps,
the head gear, etc., because all did not know for certain what arm of
service they would be assigned to, and those things are different for
each arm. The result was that some gave conditional orders, while others
guessed at it and ordered all or a part of their outfits. On the first
of June our new clothes began to arrive, and we were permitted to have
trunks in our rooms and from that day we began to feel that our cadet
days were gone. And it was practically so, too, for even the ladies who
came up in June began to show preferences for the coming first classmen,
except, of course, where friendships were strong.
Occasionally cadets were invited to dine at some of the professor’s
quarters, but even then we were required to get a permit before we could
accept invitations. General U⸺n, the Commandant, made it a rule to invite
all of the members of the first class (a few at a time) to dine at his
quarters, as may be seen from the following invitation, to-wit:
“The Comd’t of Cadets will be pleased to see Cadets London,
O’Connor, Paddock and Reed, H. T., at tea this evening after
parade till 8:30 p. m.
“June—, 18—.”
As every cadet who graduates at the Military Academy may at his option
enter the army as a Second Lieutenant, he can choose his corps or arm of
the service in accordance with his class standing, and after the first of
June he makes application substantially as follows:
“United States Military Academy, West Point, N. Y.
June —, 1873.
The Adjutant General, U. S. Army, Washington, D. C.
Sir:—I have the honor to apply for a commission as 2nd
Lieutenant in the U. S. Army in the Arm and Regiments as
follows: _______________________________. My address for the
ensuing month will be ____________________.
Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
___________________________
Graduated Cadet, U. S. M. A.”
The “diploma” given to graduates is reproduced on another page, and the
following is the wording on it, to-wit:
“UNITED STATES MILITARY ACADEMY.
Be it known that Cadet ________ of the State of ________,
having been carefully examined on all of the branches of the
Arts, Science and of Literature taught at the United States
Military Academy, has been judged worthy to receive the degree
required by law, preparatory to his advancement in the U. S.
Army.
In testimony whereof, and by virtue of authority vested in
the Academic Staff, we do confer upon him this Diploma, and
recommend him to the President for promotion in ____.
Given at West Point in the State of New York, this __ day of
____, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and
____.”
It is signed by the members of the Academic Board in the order of their
rank, and entered in the “Register of Graduates” that is kept at the
Academy.
On the first of June the President of the United States, the Board of
Visitors and others arrived, especially to witness the examinations of
the graduating class. The usual salute, review, drills, fireworks and
hop were on the program. All the members of my class, after having spent
four years at the Academy, fully expected to graduate, but one of the
number was found deficient and discharged on the last day. The weather
on graduating day was perfect, and at the appointed hour my class was
escorted by the Corps of Cadets to the grove in front of the Library,
where a stand had been erected for the President, Secretary of War, Board
of Visitors and invited guests.
While we were under the big elm trees, surrounded by our schoolmates,
professors, instructors and the many others, listening to the Chaplain’s
prayer, to the sweet music of the band we loved so well, and to the
address of the Secretary of War, and receiving diplomas from the
President’s hand, many thoughts flashed through my mind. It seemed like a
dream. I thought of home, of my life since leaving it, and of the future,
wondering what it had in store for me. My cadet life had been all and
more than I had anticipated it to be, not a care and no one but self to
think of for four years, with good food and clothing in plenty, kind
friends and just teachers, cheerful surroundings and the most beautiful
spot on earth, I was loath to say good-bye to my Cadet Home.
My heart is in the Highlands, shades
Of night are on my brow;
Ye pleasant haunts and quiet glades,
My soul is with you now.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: BIRD’S EYE VIEW OF WEST POINT AS IT MAY BE IN 1912. (FROM
A DRAWING)]
[Illustration: DIPLOMA.]
[Illustration: BIRD’S EYE VIEW OF WEST POINT IN 1902.]
[Illustration: WEST POINT IN 1848.]
[Illustration: WEST POINT IN 1825.]
[Illustration: GUARD MOUNTING IN CAMP.
COLOR LINE.]
[Illustration: SEAL OF UNITED STATES MILITARY ACADEMY. ADOPTED IN 1898.
CADET HOSPITAL.
SUPERINTENDENT’S QUARTERS.]
[Illustration: BATTERY KNOX.
SEA COAST BATTERY.
SIEGE BATTERY.]
[Illustration: THE ACADEMIC.]
[Illustration: MESS HALL.
DINING ROOM.
SOUTH CADET BARRACKS.]
[Illustration: CAVALRY DRILL.
BATTALION MARCHING FROM CAMP TO BARRACKS.]
[Illustration: CADET TENT.]
[Illustration: FIRST CLASSMEN.
FURLOUGHMEN.
THE OLD CHAPEL.
CADET ROOM.]
[Illustration: PROFESSORS’ ROW.
FLIRTATION WALK.
KOSCIUSZCO’S GARDEN.]
[Illustration: THE OLD RIDING HALL.
BATTLE MONUMENT.
PONTON BRIDGE.]
[Illustration: CADETS AT THE WORLD’S FAIR AT CHICAGO, 1893.]
[Illustration: OFFICERS QUARTERS ABOVE THE OLD NORTH GATE IN 1910.
OFFICERS QUARTERS BELOW THE OLD SOUTH GATE IN 1910.
BACHELOR OFFICERS QUARTERS IN 1910.]
[Illustration: THE CADET CHAPEL IN 1910.
NORTH CADET BARRACKS IN 1910.]
[Illustration: THE OLD WASHINGTON HEADQUARTERS.
THE OFFICERS MESS IN 1910.
THE CULLUM MEMORIAL HALL.]
[Illustration: COAT OF ARMS OF THE UNITED STATES MILITARY ACADEMY.
ADOPTED IN 1898.
LIBRARY.]
[Illustration: SIEGE BATTERY DRILL IN 1910.
ARTILLERY AND CAVALRY GROUP IN 1910.
THE NEW GYMNASIUM IN 1910.]
[Illustration: PROPOSED STAFF QUARTERS ON THE SITE OF THE PRESENT HOTEL.
(FROM A DRAWING.)
HEADQUARTERS BUILDING IN 1910.]
[Illustration: INSPECTION IN CAMP.
LIGHT ARTILLERY DRILL.]
[Illustration: SEDGWICK MONUMENT.
CADET MONUMENT.
PROFESSORS’ ROW.]
[Illustration: LOOKING EAST FROM THE NEW CADET CHAPEL IN 1910.
PERSPECTIVE VIEW FROM THE RIVER ON THE EAST. (FROM A DRAWING.)]