Without condescending to notice for the time my request he gave the interview a rather ludicrous turn, I thought, by questioning me somewhat after this manner:
"Can you dance, Mr. Flipper?"
Having answered this to his entire satisfaction, he further asked:
"Expect to attend the hops this summer?"
"Oh no, sir," replied I, smiling, as he also was, for I had just discovered the drift of his questions. After mischievously studying my countenance for a moment, he returned to the original subject and queried, "Where do you want to go?"
I told him.
"Well, get out of my sight."
I considered the permission granted, and hastily withdrew to take advantage of it.
Between breakfast and supper those of us who had been there at least a day had quite a pleasant time. We were not troubled with incessant inspections or otherwise. We either studied for examination or walked around the grounds. At or near seven o'clock, the time of retreat parade, we were formed near our barracks and inspected. Our ranks were opened and the cadet lieutenant inspected our clothing and appearance generally. A not infrequent occurrence on these occasions was:
"Well, mister, what did you shave with—a shoehorn?"
At this we would smile, when the lieutenant, sergeant, or corporal would jump at us and yell:
"Wipe that smile off your face, sir! What do you mean, sir, by laughing in ranks?"
If any one attempted to reply he was instantly silenced with—
"Well, sir, don't reply to me in ranks."
The inspection would be continued. Some one, unable to restrain himself—the whole affair was so ridiculous— would laugh right out in ranks. He was a doomed man.
"What do you mean, sir, by laughing in ranks, sir?"
Having been once directed not to reply in ranks, the poor "plebe" would stand mute.
"Well, sir, don't you intend to answer me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, sir, step it out. What were you grinning at?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Nothing! Well, sir, you're a pretty thing to be grinning at nothing. Get in ranks."
The inspection would, after many such interruptions, be continued. Ranks would at length be closed and the command, "In place, rest!" given. The battalion would march in from parade at double time and form in the area to our rear. The delinquencies of the day previous would then be published by the cadet adjutant.
What most strikes a "plebe" is this same publication. He hasn't the remotest idea of what it is. Not a word uttered by the adjutant is understood by him. He stands and wonders what it is. A perfect jargon of words, unintelligible and meaningless to him! I remember distinctly how I used to wonder, and how I was laughed at when I asked for information concerning it. We "plebes" used to speak of it often, and wonder if it was not French. When we were better acquainted with the rules and customs of the Academy we learned what it was. It was something of this nature, read from the "Delinquency Book:"
DELINQUENCIES, TUESDAY, OCT. 12.
ADAMS.—Late at reveille roll-call.
BEJAY.—Sentinel not coming to "Arms, Port," when
addressed by the officer of the day.
SAME.—Not conversant with orders at same.
BARNES.—Same at same.
SAME.—Sentinel, neglect of duty, not requiring
cadet leaving his post to report his departure and
destination.
SAME.—Hanging head, 4 P.M.
BULOW.—Dust on mantel at inspection, 9.30 A.M.
SAME.—Executing manual of arms with pointer in
section-room, 9 A.M.
SAME.—Using profane expression, 1 P.M.
CULLEN.—Out of bed at taps.
DOUNS.—Light in quarters, 11 p.m.
SAME.—Not prepared on 47 Velasquez.*
*For these delinquencies the cadets are allowed to write explanations. If the offence is absence from quarters or any duty without authority, or is one committed in the Academical Department, called an Academical Delinquency, such as not being prepared on some lesson, an explanation is required and must be written. For all other offences the cadet can write an explanation or not as he chooses. If the explanation is satisfactory, the offence is removed and he gets no demerits, otherwise he does. For form of explanation see Chapter X., latter part.
On the 26th of May, another colored candidate reported. It is said he made the best show at the preliminary examination. Unfortunately, however, he was "found" at the following semi-annual examination. He was brought up to my quarters by a corporal, and I was ordered to give him all instruction which had previously been given me. This I did, and his first days at West Point were much more pleasant than mine had been.
The candidates had now all reported, and Monday afternoon, May 28th, we were each given by the Adjutant in person a slip of paper upon which was written the number of each man's name in an alphabetically arranged roll. This we had special directions to preserve. The next day we were marched up to the Drawing Academy, and examined in grammar, history, and geography; the following day in orthography and reading. On the same day, also, we were required to write out a list of all the textbooks we had used in our previous school- days. The day following we were divided into sections and marched to the library, where the Academic Board was in readiness to examine us in mathematics. It took quite a while to examine our class of more than one hundred members thus orally. I am not positive about the dates of the examination. I know it occurred in the immediate vicinity of those named.
Not many days after this the result of the examination was made known to us. The familiar cry, "Candidates, turn out promptly," made at about noon, informed us that something unusual was about to occur. It was a fearful moment, and yet I was sure I had "passed." The only questions I failed on were in geography. I stood motionless while the order was being read until I heard my name among the accepted ones. I felt as if a great burden had been removed from my mind. It was a beginning, and if not a good one, certainly not a bad one. What has been the ending? Let the sequel show.
Now that the examination was over and the deficient ones gone, we were turned out for drill every morning at half—past five o'clock and at four in the afternoon. We were divided into squads of one each, and drilled twice a day in the "settings up" until about June 20th. After a few drills, however, the squads were consolidated into others of four, six, and eight each. The surplus drill-masters were "turned in." Their hopes were withered, for it was almost a certainty that those who were "turned in" would not be "made." They expected to be "made" on their proficiency in drilling, and when it was shown by being "turned in" that others had been thought better drill-masters, they were not a little disappointed. How they "boned" tactics! What proficiency they manifested! How they yelled out their commands! What eagerness they showed to correct errors, etc. And yet some could not overcome their propensity for hazing, and these were of course turned in. Not always thus, however. Those who were not "turned in" were not always "made" corporals. Often those who were so treated "got the chevrons" after all.
"Plebe drill," or, more familiarly, "squad drill," has always been a source of great amusement to citizens, but what a horror to plebes. Those torturous twistings and twirlings, stretching every nerve, straining every sinew, almost twisting the joints out of place and making life one long agonizing effort. Was there ever a "plebe," or recruit, who did not hate, did not shudder at the mere mention of squad drill? I did. Others did. I remember distinctly my first experience of it. I formed an opinion, a morbid dislike of it then, and have not changed it. The benefit, however, of "squad drill" can not be overestimated. It makes the most crooked, distorted creature an erect, noble, and manly being, provided, of course, this distortion be a result of habit and not a natural deformity, the result of laziness in one's walking, such as hanging the head, dropping the shoulders, not straightening the legs, and crossing them when walking.
Squad drill is one of the painful necessities of military discipline, and no one regrets his experience of it, however displeasing it may have been at the time. It is squad drill and hazing that so successfully mould the coarser characters who come to West Point into officers and gentlemen. They teach him how to govern and be governed. They are more effectual in polishing his asperities of disposition and forming his character than any amount of regulations could be. They tame him, so to speak.
Squad drill was at once a punishment, a mode of hazing, and a drill. For the least show of grossness one was sure to be punished with "settings up, second time!" "settings up, fourth time! "Continue the motion, settings up second (or fourth) time!" We would be kept at these motions until we could scarcely move. Of course all this was contrary to orders. The drill-master would be careful not to be "hived." If he saw an officer even looking at him, he would add the command "three," which caused a discontinuance of the motion. He would change, however, to one of the other exercises immediately, and thus keep the plebes continually in motion. When he thought the punishment sufficient he would discontinue it by the command, "three," and give "place, rest." When the "place, rest" had been just about sufficient to allow the plebe to get cool and in a measure rested, the drill would be resumed by the command "'tion, squad" (abbreviated from "attention" and pronounced "shun"). If the plebe was slow, "place, rest" was again given, and
"When I give the command ''tion, squad,' I want to see you spring up with life."
"'Tion, squad!"
Plebe is slow again.
"Well, mister, wake up. This is no trifling matter.
Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, sir, don't reply to me in ranks."
And many times and terms even more severe than these.
Now that Williams and myself were admitted, the newspapers made their usual comments on such occurrences. I shall quote a single one from The New National Era and Citizen, published in Washington, D.C., and the political organ of the colored people. The article, however, as I present it, is taken from another paper, having been by it taken from the Era and Citizen:
"COLORED CADETS AT WEST POINT.
"The New National Era and Citizen, which is the national organ of the colored people, contains a sensible article this week on the status of colored cadets at West Point. After referring to the colored young men, 'Plebes' Flipper of Georgia, and Williams of Virginia, who have passed the examination requisite for entering the Academy, the Era and Citizen says: 'Now that they are in, the stiff and starched protègès of the Government make haste to tell the reporters that "none of the fellows would hurt them, but every fellow would let them alone." Our reporter seems to think that "to be let alone" a terrible doom. So it is, if one is sent to Coventry by gentlemen. So it is, if one is neglected by those who, in point of education, thrift, and morality are our equals or superiors. So it is not, if done by the low-minded, the ignorant, and the snobbish. If it be possible, among the four hundred young charity students of the Government, that Cadet Smith, for instance, finds no warm friends, and has won no respect after the gallant fight he has made for four years—a harder contest than he will ever have in the sterner field—then we despair of the material which West Point is turning out. If this be true, it is training selfish, snobbish martinets—not knightly soldiers, not Havelocks, Hardinges, and Kearneys—but the lowest type of disciplined and educated force and brutality—the Bluchers and Marlboroughs. We scarcely believe this, however, and we know that any young man, whether he be poor or black, or both, may enter any first-class college in America and find warm sympathetic friends, both among students and faculty, if he but prove himself to be possessed of some good qualities . . . . If the Smiths, Flippers, and Williamses in their honorable school -boy careers can not meet social as well as intellectual recognition while at West Point, let them study on and acquit themselves like men, for they will meet, out in the world, a worthy reception among men of worth, who have put by the prejudices of race and the shackles of ignorance. Emerson says somewhere that "Solitude, the nurse of Genius, is the foe of mediocrity." If our young men of ability have the stuff in them to make men out of, they need not fear "to be let alone" for a while; they will ultimately come to the surface and attain worthy recognition.'
"That is plain, practical talk. We like it. It has the ring of the true metal. It shows that the writer has faith in the ultimate triumph of manhood. It is another form for expressing a firm belief that real worth will find a reward. Never has any bond people emerged from slavery into a condition full of such grand opportunities and splendid possibilities as those which are within the reach of the colored people of the United States; but if those opportunities are to be made available, if those possibilities are to be realized, the colored people must move into the fore-front of action and study and work in their own behalf. The colored cadets at West Point, the colored students in the public schools, the colored men in the professions, the trades, and on the plantations, can not be idlers if they are to compete with the white race in the acquisition of knowledge and property. But they have examples of notable achievements in their own ranks which should convince them that they have not the slightest reason to despair of success. The doors stand wide open, from the plantation to the National Capitol, and every American citizen can, if he will, attain worthy recognition."
And thus, ere we had entered upon our new duties, were we forewarned of the kind of treatment we should expect. To be "sent to Coventry," "to be let severely alone," are indeed terrible dooms, but we cared naught for them. "To be let alone" was what we wished. To be left to our own resources for study and improvement, for enjoyment in whatever way we chose to seek it, was what we desired. We cared not for social recognition. We did not expect it, nor were we disappointed in not getting it. We would not seek it. We would not obtrude ourselves upon them. We would not accept recognition unless it was made willingly. We would be of them at least independent. We would mark out for ourselves a uniform course of conduct and follow it rigidly. These were our resolutions. So long as we were in the right we knew we should be recognized by those whose views were not limited or bound by such narrow confines as prejudice and caste, whether they were at West Point or elsewhere. Confident that right on our own part would secure us just treatment from others, that "if we but prove ourselves possessed of some good qualities" we could find friends among both faculty and students.
I came to West Point, notwithstanding I had heard so much about the Academy well fit to dishearten and keep one away. And then, too, at the time I had no object in seeking the appointment other than to gratify an ordinary ambition. Several friends were opposed to my accepting it, and even persuaded me, or rather attempted to persuade me, to give up the idea altogether. I was inexorable. I had set my mind upon West Point, and no amount of persuasion, and no number of harrowing narratives of bad treatment, could have induced me to relinquish the object I had in view. But I was right. The work I chose, and from which I could not flinch without dishonor, proved far more important than either my friends or myself at first thought it would be.
Let me not, however, anticipate. Of this importance more anon.
CHAPTER IV.
CANT TERMS, ETC.
AS a narrative of this description is very apt to be dry and uninteresting, I have thought it possible to remove in a measure this objection by using as often as convenient the cant lingo of the corps. A vocabulary which shall contain it all, or nearly all, becomes necessary. I have taken great care to make it as full as possible, and at the same time as intelligible as possible.
There are a few cant words and expressions which are directly personal, and in many cases self-explanatory. They are for such reasons omitted.
"Animal," "animile," "beast," "reptile."— Synonymous terms applied to candidates for admission into the Academy.
"Plebe."—A candidate after admission, a new cadet. After the candidates are examined and the proficient ones admitted, these latter are known officially as "new cadets," but in the cant vernacular of the corps they are dubbed "plebes," and they retain this designation till the candidates of the next year report. They are then called "yearlings," a title applied usually to them in camp only. After the encampment they become "furloughmen" until they return from furlough in August of the following year. They then are "second-classmen," and are so officially and à la cadet throughout the year. From this time till they graduate they are known as the "graduating class," so that, except the second class, each class has its own peculiar cant designation.
Candidates generally report in May—about the 20th —and during July and August are in camp. This is their "plebe camp." The next is their, "yearling camp." During the next, they are en congé, and the next and last is their "first-class camp." Of "plebe camp," "yearling camp," and "first-class camp," more anon.
"Rapid."—A "plebe" is said to be "rapid" when he shows a disposition to resist hazing, or to "bone familiarity" with older cadets—i.e., upper classmen.
"Sep."—A cadet who reported for admission in
September.
"Fins."—A term applied to the hands generally, of course to the hands of "plebes."
"Prelim."—A preliminary examination.
"Pred."—A predecessor.
"Pony."—A key, a corrigé.
"To bone."—To study, to endeavor to do well in any particular; for instance, to "bone demerits" is to strive to get as few as possible.
"To bone popularity."—This alludes to a habit practised, especially by, "yearlings" while in camp, and is equivalent to our every-day expression in civil life, viz., "to get in with."
"To bugle it."—To avoid a recitation. To avoid a recitation is an act seldom done by any cadet. It is in fact standing at the board during the whole time of recitation without turning around, and thus making known a readiness to recite. At the Academy a bugle takes the place of the bell in civil schools. When the bugle is blown those sections at recitation are dismissed, and others come in. Now, if one faces the board till the bugle blows, there is not then enough time for him to recite, and he is said to have "bugled it." Some instructors will call on any one who shows a disposition to do so, and will require him to tell what he knows about his subject.
"Busted," "broken."—These words apply only to cadet officers who are reduced to ranks.
"A cold case."—A sure thing, a foregone conclusion.
To "get chevrons."—To receive an appointment in the battalion organization. Each year, on the day the graduates receive their diplomas, and just after— possibly just before—they are relieved from further duty at the Academy, the order fixing the appointments for the next year is read, and those of the year previous revoked. It has been customary to appoint the officers, captains, and lieutenants from the first class, the sergeants from the second, and the corporals from the third. This custom has at times, and for reasons, been departed from, and the officers chosen as seemed best.
For any offence of a grave nature, any one who has chevrons is liable to lose them, or, in other words, to be reduced to ranks.
"A cit."—Any citizen.
"To crawl over."—To haze, generally in the severest manner possible.
"A chapel."—An attendance at church.
"To curse out."—To reprimand, to reprove, and also simply to interview. This expression does not by any means imply the use of oaths.
"To cut," "To cut cold."—To avoid, to ostracize.
"Debauch."—Any ceremony or any thing unusual. It may be a pleasant chat, a drill, or any thing that is out of the usual routine.
"To drive a squad."—To march it.
"Dropped."—Not promoted.
"To eat up."—See "To crawl over."
"Exaggerations."—It is a habit of the cadets to exaggerate on certain occasions, and especially when policing. "A log of wood," "a saw-mill," "a forest," and kindred expressions, are applied to any fragment of wood of any description that may be lying about. A feather is "a pillow;" a straw, "a broom factory;" a pin, an "iron foundry;" a cotton string, "a cotton factory;" and I have known a "plebe" to be told to "get up that sugar refinery," which "refinery" was a cube of sugar crushed by some one treading upon it.
Any thing—whatever it may be—which must be policed, is usually known by some word or term suggested by its use or the method or the place of its manufacture.
"To find."—To declare deficient in studies or discipline.
An "extra" is an extra tour of guard duty given as punishment. Cadets on "extra" are equipped as for parade, and walk in the area of Cadet Barracks from two o'clock until retreat, or from two to five hours, on Saturday or other days of the week. An "extra" is sometimes called a "Saturday Punishment."
"A fem," "femme."—Any female person.
"A file."—Any male person.
"Fessed," "fessed cold," "fessed frigid," "fessed out," and "fessed through."—Made a bad recitation, failed.
"To get off."—To perpetrate.
"A gag," "Grin," "Grind."—Something witty, a repartee.
"To hive."—To detect, used in a good and bad sense.
Also to take, to steal.
"To hoop up."—To hasten, to hurry.
"H. M. P."—Hop manager's privileges.
"A keen."—See "Gag," etc.
"To leap on."—See "To crawl over."
"Made."—Given an appointment, given chevrons as an officer in the battalion organization.
"A make."—Such an appointment.
"Maxed."—Made a thorough recitation.
"Ath."—The last one.
"To pile in."—To retire.
"To pink."—To report for any offence.
"To plant."—To bury with military honors.
"To police one's self."—To bathe.
"To pot."—"To pink," which see.
"Prof."—Professor.
"To put in."—To submit in writing.
"To put into the battalion."—To assign to a company, as in case of new cadets.
"Ragged," "ragged out."—Made a good recitation.
"Reveilles."—Old shoes, easy and comfortable, worn to reveille roll-call.
"Reekless, ricochet."—Careless, indifferent.
"To run it."—To do any thing forbidden. To risk.
"To run it on."—To impose upon.
"Shout."—Excellent, i.e., will create much comment and praise.
"Sketch-house."—The Drawing Academy.
"To skin."—See "To pink" (most common).
"To be spooney."—To be gallant.
"To spoon."—To be attentive to ladies.
"A spoon."—A sweetheart.
"Shungudgeon."—A stew.
"Supe."—Superintendent.
"To step out."—See "To hoop up."
"Topog."—A topographical drawing.
"To turn in."—To repair to one's quarters.
"To be sent in."—To order any thing sent in.
"To turn out."—To come out, or send out.
"To be white," "To treat white."—To be polite, courteous, and gentlemanly.
"To wheaten."—To be excused by surgeon.
"To yank."—To seize upon violently.
"O. G. P."—Old guard privileges.
"Chem."—Chemistry.
"Math."—Mathematics.
"Phil."—Philosophy.
"Rocks."—Mineralogy.
"Wigwag."—Signalling.
"To get out of."—To shun, to shirk.
"Thing."—A "plebe."
"To extinguish."—To distinguish.
"To go for."—To haze.
"House."—Room, quarters.
"To freeze to."—To hold firmly.
"To wipe out."—To destroy.
"Limbo."—Confinement.
"Solemncholy."—Sad, dejected.
"Plebeskin."—A rubber overcoat issued to new cadets.
"Turnbacks."—Cadets turned back to a lower class.
"Div," "subdiv."—Division, subdivision.
"Devils."—Fellows familiarly.
"Tab."—Tabular system of French.
"To celebrate."—To do.
"A stayback."—A graduate detained at graduation to instruct the new cadets.*
*When the cadets are in barracks, the officer of the guard on Sundays either has or assumes authority to detain from church, for any emergency that might arise, one or two or more members of his guard, in addition to those on post on duty. Cadets so detained are called "staybacks.
"Scratch day."—A day when lessons are hard or numerous.
"Gum game."—A joke.
"To fudge."—To copy.
BENNY HAVENS O.
[A number of cadets sitting or lounging about the room. One at table pouring out the drinks. As soon as he is done he takes up his own glass, and says to the others, "Come, fellows," and then all together standing:]
—Stand up in a row,
For sentimental drinking we're going for to go;
In the army there's sobriety, promotion's very slow,
So we'll cheer our hearts with choruses of Benny
Havens' O.
Of Benny Havens' O, of Benny Havens' O,
We'll cheer our hearts with choruses of Benny
Havens' O.
When you and I and Benny, and General Jackson too,
Are brought before the final Board our course of
life t' review,
May we never "fess" on any point, but then be told
to go
To join the army of the blest at Benny Havens' O.
At Benny Havens' O, at Benny Havens' O,
To join the army of the blest at Benny Havens' O.
To the ladies of the army let our bumpers ever flow,
Companions of our exile, our shield 'gainst every woe,
May they see their husbands generals with double pay
to show,
And indulge in reminiscences of Benny Havens' O.
Of Benny Havens O, of Benny Havens' O,
And indulge in reminiscences of Benny Havens' O.
'Tis said by commentators, in the land where we
must go
We follow the same handicraft we followed here
below;
If this be true philosophy (the sexton, he says no),
What days of dance and song we'll have at Benny
Havens' O.
At Benny Havens' O, at Benny Havens' O,
What days of dance and song we'll have at Benny
Havens' O!
To the ladies of the Empire State, whose hearts
and albums too
Bear sad remembrance of the wrongs we stripling
soldiers do,
We bid you all a kind farewell, the best recompense
we know—
Our loves and rhymings had their source at Benny
Havens' O.
At Benny Havens' O, at Benny Havens' O,
Our loves and rhymings had their source at Benny
Havens' O.
[Then, with due solemnity, every head uncovered and bowed low, they sing:]
There comes a voice from Florida, from Tampa's
lonely shore;
It is the wail of gallant men, O'Brien is no more;
In the land of sun and flowers his head lies
pillowed low,
No more to sing petite coquille at Benny Havens' O.
At Benny Havens' O, at Benny Havens' O,
No more to sing petite coquille at Benny Havens' O,
etc.
CHAPTER V.
PLEBE CAMP.
"PLEBE CAMP!" The very words are suggestive. Those who have been cadets know what "plebe camp" is. To a plebe just beginning his military career the first experience of camp is most trying. To him every thing is new. Every one seems determined to impose upon him, and each individual "plebe" fancies at times he's picked out from all the rest as an especially good subject for this abuse (?). It is not indeed a very pleasant prospect before him, nor should he expect it to be. But what must be his feelings when some old cadet paints for his pleasure camp scenes and experiences? Whatever he may have known of camp life before seems as naught to him now. It is a new sort of life he is to lead there, and he feels himself, although curious and anxious to test it, somewhat shy of entering such a place. There is no alternative. He accepts it resignedly and goes ahead. It is not always with smiling countenance that he marches out and surveys the site after reveille. Indeed, those who do have almost certainly received A highly colored sketch of camp life, and are hastening to sad disappointment, and not at all to the joys they've been led to expect. He marches into the company streets. He surveys them carefully and recognizes what is meant by "the plebes have to do all the policing," servants being an unknown luxury. He also sees the sentry-boxes and the paths the sentinels tread, and shudders as he recollects the tales of midnight adventure which some wily cadet has narrated to him. Imagination begins her cruel work. Already he sees himself lying at the bottom of Fort Clinton Ditch tied in a blanket, or perhaps fetterless and free, but helpless. Or he may imagine his hands are tied to one, and his feet to the other tent-pole, and himself struggling for freedom as he recognizes that the reveille gun has been fired and those merciless fifers and drummers are rapidly finishing the reveille. And, horror of horrors! mayhap his fancies picture him standing tremblingly on post at midnight's solemn hour, his gun just balanced in his hands, while numbers of cadets in hideous sheets and other ghostly garb approach or are already standing around torturing him. And again, perchance, he challenges some approaching person in one direction, and finds to his dismay the officer of the day, the officer of the guard, and a corporal are crossing and recrossing his post, or having already advanced without being challenged, are demanding why it is, and why he has been so negligent.
Just after reveille on the morning of June 22d the companies were marched to their company streets, and the "plebes" assigned to each followed in rear. At the time only the tent floors and cord stays were on the ground. These former the plebes were ordered to align. This we did while the old cadets looked on, occasionally correcting or making some suggestion. It required considerable time to do this, as we were inexperienced and had to await some explanation of what we were to do.
When at last we were done, tents, or rather tent floors, were assigned to us. We thence returned to barracks and to breakfast. Our more bulky effects were carried into camp on wagons before breakfast, while the lighter articles were moved over by our own hands. By, or perhaps before, eleven o'clock every thing had been taken to camp. By twelve we were in ranks ready to march in. At the last stroke of the clock the column was put in march, and we marched in with all the "glory of war." We stacked arms in the company streets, broke ranks, and each repaired to the tent assigned him, which had by this time been brought over and placed folded on the tent floors. They were rapidly prepared for raising, and at a signal made on a drum the tents were raised simultaneously, 'mid rousing cheers, which told that another "camp" was begun.
After this we had dinner, and then we put our tents in order. At four o'clock the police-call was sounded, and all the "plebes" were turned out to police the company streets. This new phase of West Point life— and its phases rapidly developed themselves—was a hard one indeed. The duties are menial, and very few discharge them without some show of displeasure, and often of temper. None are exempt. It is not hard work, and yet every one objects to doing it. The third and fourth classes, by regulations, are required to do the policing. When I was a plebe, the plebes did it all. Many indeed tried to shirk it, but they were invariably "hived." Every plebe who attempted any such thing was closely watched and made to work. The old cadets generally chose such men for "special dutymen," and required them to bring water, pile bedding, sweep the floor, and do all sorts of menial services. Of course all this last is prohibited, and therefore risky. Somebody is "hived" and severely punished almost every year for allowing plebes to perform menial duties for him. But what of that? The more dangerous it becomes the more is it practised. Forbidden things always have an alluring sweetness about them. More caution, however, is observed. If, for instance, a cadet should want a pail of water, he causes a plebe to empty his (the plebe's) into his own (the cadet's). If it should be empty, he sends him to the hydrant to fill it, and, when he returns, gets possession of it as before. An officer seeing a plebe with his own pail—recognizable by his own name being on it in huge Roman characters—going for water would say nothing to him. If the name, however, should be that of a cadet, the plebe would be fortunate if he escaped an investigation or a reprimand on the spot, and the cadet, too, if he were not put in arrest for allowing a new cadet to perform menial services for him. If he wants a dipper of iced-water, he calls out to the first plebe he sees in some such manner as this: "Oh! Mr.—, don't you want to borrow my dipper for a little while?" The plebe of course understands this. He may smile possibly, and if not serving some punishment will go for the water.
Plebes are also required to clean the equipments of the older cadets. They do it cheerfully, and, strange to say, are as careful not to be "hived" as the cadet whose accoutrements they are cleaning. I say "required." I do not mean that regulations or orders require this of the new cadets, but that the cadets by way of hazing do. From the heartrending tales of hazing at West Point, which citizens sometimes read of, one would think the plebes would offer some resistance or would complain to the authorities. These tales are for the most part untrue. In earlier days perhaps hazing was practised in a more inhuman manner than now. It may be impossible, and indeed is, for a plebe to cross a company street without having some one yell out to him: "Get your hands around, mister. Hold your head up;" but all that is required by tactics. Perhaps the frequency and unnecessary repetition of these cautions give them the appearance of hazing. However that may be, there seems to be no way to impress upon a plebe the necessity of carrying his "palms to the front," or his "head up." To report him and give him demerits merely causes him to laugh and joke over the number of them that have been recorded against him.
I do not mean to defend hazing in any sense of the word; but I do believe that it is indispensable as practised at the Academy. It would simply be impossible to mould and polish the social amalgamation at West Point without it. Some of the rough specimens annually admitted care nothing for regulations. It is fun to them to be punished. Nothing so effectually makes a plebe submissive as hazing. That contemptuous look and imperious bearing lowers a plebe, I sometimes think, in his own estimation. He is in a manner cowed and made to feel that he must obey, and not disobey; to feel that he is a plebe, and must expect a plebe's portion. He is taught by it to stay in his place, and not to "bone popularity" with the older cadets.
It is frequently said that "plebe camp" and "plebe life" are the severest parts of life at West Point. To some they are, and to others they are not. With my own self I was almost entirely free from hazing, and while there were features in "plebe life" which I disliked, I did nevertheless have a far easier and better time than my own white classmates. Even white plebes often go through their camp pleasantly and profitably. Only those who shirk duty have to suffer any unusual punishment or hazing.
I have known plebes to be permitted to do any thing they chose while off duty. I have known others to have been kept working on their guns or other equipments whole days for several days at a time. It mattered not how clean they were, or how soon the work was done. I've known them to be many times interrupted for the mere sake of hazing, and perhaps to be sent somewhere or to do something which was unnecessary and would have been as well undone. Plebes who tent with first-classmen keep their own tents in order, and are never permitted by their tentmates to do any thing of the kind for others unless when wanted, are entirely unoccupied, and then usually their services are asked for. A classmate of mine, when a plebe, tented with a first-classman. He was doing something for himself one day in a free-and-easy manner, and had no thought of disturbing any one. A yearling corporal, who was passing, saw him, thought he was having too good and soft a time of it, and ordered him out to tighten cords, an act then highly uncalled for, save as a means of hazing. The first-classman happened to come up just as the plebe began to interfere with the cords, and asked him who told him to do that. He told him, and was at once directed to leave them and return to whatever he was doing before being interrupted. The yearling, confident in his red tape and his mightiness, ordered the plebe out again. His corporalship soon discovered his mistake, for the first-classman gave the plebe full information as to what could be required of him, and told him to disobey any improper order of the corporal's which was plainly given to haze him. The affair was made personal. A fight ensued. The corporal was worsted, to the delight, I imagine, of the plebes.
Again, I've known plebes to be stopped from work—if they were doing something for a cadet—to transfer it to some other one who was accustomed to shirk all the duty he could, or who did things slowly and slovenly. Indeed I may assert generally that plebes who are willing to work have little to do outside of their regular duty, and fare in plebe camp quite as well as yearlings; while those who are stubborn and careless are required to do most all the work. Cadets purposely select them and make them work. They, too, are very frequently objects of hazing in its severest form. At best, though, plebe camp is rather hard, its Numerous drills, together with guard and police duty, make it the severest and most undesirable portion of the four years a cadet spends at the Academy.
To get up at five o'clock and be present at reveille roll-call, to police for half an hour, to have squad drill during the next hour, to put one's tent in order after that, and then to prepare one's self for breakfast at seven, make up a rather trying round of duties. To discharge them all—and that must certainly be done—keeps one busy; but who would not prefer little extra work—and not hard work at that— in the cooler part of the day to an equal amount in the heated portion of it? I am sure the plebes do. I know the corporals and other officers who drill them do, although they lose their after-reveille sleep.
After breakfast comes troop parade at eight o'clock, guard mounting immediately after, and the establishment of the "color line." Arms and accoutrements must be in perfect order. The plebes clean them during the afternoon, so that before parade it is seldom necessary to do more than wipe off dust, or adjust a belt, or something of the kind.
After establishing the "color line," which is done about 8.30 A.M., all cadets, save those on guard and those marching on, have time to do whatever they choose. The cadets generally repair to the guard tents to see lady friends and other acquaintances, while the plebes either interest themselves in the inspection of "color men," or make ready for artillery drill at nine. The latter drill, commencing at 9 A.M., continues for one hour. The yearlings and plebes receive instruction in the manual and nomenclature of the piece. The drill is not very trying unless the heavy guns are used—I mean unless they are drilled at the battery of twelve-pounders. Of late both classes have been drilled at batteries of three-inch rifles. These are light and easily manoeuvred, and unless the heat be intense the drill is a very pleasant one.
The first class, during this same hour, are drilled at the siege or seacoast battery. The work here is sometimes hard and sometimes not. When firing, the drill is pleasant and interesting, but when we have mechanical manoeuvres all this pleasantness vanishes. Then we have hard work. Dismounting and mounting is not a very pleasant recreation.
At eleven o'clock, every day for a week or ten days, the plebes have manual drill. This is entirely in the shade, and when "In place, rest," is frequently given, is not at all displeasing, except when some yearling corporal evinces a disposition to haze. At five o'clock this drill is repeated Then comes parade, supper, tattoo, and best of all a long night's rest. The last two drills continue for a few days only, and sometimes do not take place at all.
The third class, or the yearlings, have dancing from eleven to twelve, and the plebes from then till one. In the afternoon the plebes have nothing to do in the way of duty till four o'clock. The camp is then policed, and when that is done there may or may not be any further duty to discharge till retreat parade. After the plebes are put in the battalion—that is, after they begin drilling, etc., with their companies —all cadets attend company drill at five o'clock. After attending a few of these drills the first class is excused from further attendance during the encampment. One officer and the requisite number of privates, however, are detailed from the class each day to act as officers at these drills.
I omitted to say that the first class received in the forenoon instruction in practical military engineering and ordnance.
What most tries plebes, and yearlings, too, is guard duty. If their classes are small, each member of them is put on guard every third or fourth day. To the plebes, being something entirely new, guard duty is very, very obnoxious.
During the day they fare well enough, but as soon as night comes "well enough" disappears. They are liable at any moment to be visited by cadets on a hazing tour from the body of the camp, or by the officers and non- commissioned officers of the guard. The latter generally leave the post of the guard in groups of three or four. After getting into camp they separate, and manage to come upon a sentinel simultaneously and from all points of the compass. If the sentinel isn't cool, he will challenge and Advance one, and possibly let the others come upon him unchallenged and unseen even. Then woe be to him! He'll be "crawled over" for a certainty, and to make his crimes appear as bad as possible, will be reported for "neglect of duty while a sentinel, allowing the officers and non—commissioned officers of the guard to advance upon him, and to cross his post repeatedly without being challenged." He knows the report to be true, and if he submits an explanation for the offence his inexperience will be considered, and he will probably get no demerits for his neglect of duty.
But the best joke of all is in their manner of calling off the half-hours at night, and of challenging. Sometimes we hear No. 2 call off, "No. 2, ten o'clock, and all is well," in a most natural and unconcerned tone of voice, while No. 3 may sing out, "No. 3, ten o'clock and all is well-l-l," changing his tone only on the last word. Then No. 4, with another variation, may call off, "No. 4, ten o'clock, and all-l-l-l's well," changing his tone on "all-l-l-l's," and speaking the rest, especially the last word, in a low and natural manner of voice, and sometimes abruptly. And so on along the entire chain of sentinels, each one calls off in a manner different from that of the rest. Sometimes the calling off is scarcely to be heard, sometimes it is loud and full, and again it is distinct but squeakish. It is indeed most delightful to be in one's tent and here the plebes call off in the still quiet hours of the night. One can't well help laughing, and yet all plebes, more or less, call off in the same manner.
Plebe sentinels are very troublesome sometimes to the non-commissioned officers of the guard. They receive their orders time after time, and when inspected for them most frequently spit them out with ease and readiness; but just as soon as night comes, and there is a chance to apply them, they "fess utterly cold," and in the simplest things at that. Nine plebes out of ten almost invariably challenge thus, "Who comes here?" "Who stands here?" "Who goes here?" as the case may be, notwithstanding they have been repeatedly instructed orally, and have seen the words, as they should be, in the regulations. If a person is going, and is a hundred yards or so off, it is still, "Who goes here?" Everything is "here."
One night the officer of the day concealed himself near a sentinel's post, and suddenly appeared on it. The plebe threw his gun down to the proper position and yelled out, "Who comes here?" The officer of the day stopped short, whereupon the plebe jumped at him and shouted, "Who stands here?" Immediately the officer started off, saying as he did so, "I'm not standing; I'm going." Then of course the challenge was again changed to, "Who goes here? "I'm not going; I'm coming," said the officer, facing about and approaching the sentinel. This was kept up for a considerable time, till the officer of the day got near a sentry-box and suddenly disappeared. The plebe knew he was there, and yelled in a louder tone than before, "Who stands here? "Sentry-box," was the solemn and ghostly response.
It is hardly reasonable, I think, to say the plebe was frightened; but he actually stood there motionless, repeating his challenge over and over again, "Who stands here?"
There was a light battery in park near by, and through this, aided by the gloom, the officer of the day managed to pass unobserved along, but not on the sentinel's post. He then got upon it and advanced on him, making the while much noise with his sword and his heavy tread. He walked directly up to the sentinel unchallenged, and startled him by asking, "What are you standing here yelling for?"
The plebe told him that the officer of the day had been upon his post, and he had seen him go behind the sentry-box. And all this to the officer of the day, standing there before him, "Well, sir, whom do you take me to be?"
The plebe looks, and for the first time brought to full consciousness, recognizes the officer of the day. Of course he is surprised, and the more so when the officer of the day inspects for his—the plebe's—satisfaction the sentry-box, and finds no one there. He "eats" that plebe up entirely, and then sends a corporal around to instruct him in his orders. When the corporal comes it may be just as difficult to advance him. He may, when challenged, advance without replying, or, if he replies, he may say, "Steamboat," "Captain Jack, Queen of the Modocs," as one did say to me, or something or somebody else not entitled to the countersign. Possibly the plebe remembers this, and he may command "Halt!" and call another corporal. This latter may come on a run at "charge bayonets," and may not stop till within a foot or so of the sentinel. He then gets another "cursing out." By this time the corporal who first came and was halted has advanced unchallenged and unnoticed since the arrival of the second. And then another cursing out. Thus it is that plebe camp is made so hard.
Surely the officers and non-commissioned officers are right in testing by all manner of ruses the ability of the sentinels. It is their duty to instruct them, to see that they know their orders, and are not afraid to apply them.
Sometimes plebes enjoy it, and like to be cursed out. Sometimes they purposely advance toward a party improperly, to see what will be said to them. It is fun to some, and to others most serious. At best it gives a plebe a poor opinion of West Point, and while he may bear it meekly he nevertheless sighs for the "— touch of a vanished hand," the caressing hand of a loving mother or sister. I know I used to hate the very name of camp, and I had an easier time, too, than the other plebes.
Of course the plebes, being inexperienced for the most part, are "high privates in the rear rank." For another reason, also, this is the case. The first and second classes have the right established by immemorial custom of marching in the front rank, which right necessarily keeps the plebes in the rear rank, and the yearlings too, except so many as are required in the front rank for the proper formation of the company. Another reason, perhaps, may be given to the same end. We have what we call class rank, or, in other words, class standing. Every class has certain privileges and immunities, which the junior classes do not enjoy; for example, first- classmen, and second-classmen too—by General Orders of September, 1876—are excused from guard duty in the capacity of privates, and are detailed— first- classmen for officers of the day and officers of the guard, and second-classmen for non-commissioned officers of the guard. All members of the third and fourth classes are privates, and from them the privates of the guard are detailed. All officers, commissioned and non-commissioned, are exempt from "Saturday punishment." I mean they do not walk extra tours of guard for punishment. The non- commissioned officers are sometimes required to serve such punishments by discharging the duties of corporal or sergeant in connection with the punishment squad. Third-and fourth-classmen enjoy no such immunities. Plebes, then, having no rank whatever, being in fact conditional cadets until they shall have received their warrants in the following January, must give way to those who have. One half or more of the privates of the company must be in the front rank. This half is made up of those who rank highest, first-classmen and second-classmen, and also, if necessary, a number of third-classmen. Plebes must then, except in rare cases, march in the rear rank, and from the time they are put in the battalion till the close of the summer encampment, they are required to carry their hands with palms to the front as prescribed in the tactics.
All this is kept up till the close of camp, and makes, I think, plebe camp the most trying part of one's cadet life.
On the 28th of August the furloughmen return, and report to the commandant at two o'clock for duty.
In the afternoon the battalion is sized and quarters are assigned under the supervision of the assistant- instructors of tactics.
At parade the appointment of officers and non- commissioned officers for the ensuing year is published, and also orders for the discontinuance of the encampment.
In the evening the "twenty-eighth hop" takes place, and is the last of the season. On the 29th—and beginning at reveille—the cadets move their effects into winter quarters in barracks. All heavy articles are moved in on wagons, while all lighter ones are carried over by cadets themselves. By seven o'clock every thing is moved away from camp, save each cadet's accoutrements.
Breakfast is served at 7 A.M., and immediately afterward comes "troop" and guard-mounting, after which the entire camp is thoroughly policed. This requires an hour or more, and when all is done the "general" is sounded. At this the companies are formed under arm in their respective company streets. The arms are then stacked and ranks broken. At least two cadets repair to each tent, and at the first tap of the drum remove and roll up all the cords save the corner ones. At the second tap, while one cadet steadies the tent the other removes and rolls the corner cords nearest him. The tents in the body of the encampment are moved. Back two feet, more or less, from the color line, while the guard tents and those of the company officers are moved in a northerly direction. At the third tap the tents fall simultaneously toward the color line and the south cardinal point, amid rousing cheers. The tents being neatly rolled up and placed on the floors, the companies are reformed and on the centre. The battalion then marches out to take up its winter quarters in barracks.
When camp is over the plebes are no longer required to depress their toes or to carry their hands with palms to the front. They are, in fact, "cadets and gentlemen," and must take care of themselves.
CHAPTER VI.
STUDIES, ETC.
THE academic year begins July 1st, and continues till about June 20th the following year. As soon after this as practicable—depending upon what time the examination is finished—the corps moves into camp, with the exception of the second class, who go on furlough instead.
Between the 20th of August and the 1st of September, the "Seps," or those candidates who were unable to do so in the spring previous, report. Before the 1st they have been examined and the deficient ones dismissed. On the 1st, unless that be Sunday, academic duties begin. The classes are arranged into a number of sections, according to their class rank, as determined at the previous annual examination, or according to rank in some particular study—for instance, for instruction in engineering the first class is arranged according to merit in philosophy, and not according to general merit or class rank. The fourth, or "plebe" class, however, is arranged alphabetically since they as yet have no class rank.
The first class study, during the first term, engineering law, and ordnance and gunnery. They recite on civil engineering from 8 to 11 A.M. daily, on ordnance and gunnery from 2 to 4 P.M., alternating with law.
The second class have natural and experimental philosophy from 8 to 11 A.M. daily, and chemistry, alternating with riding, from 11 A.M. to 1 P.M.; also drawing in pencil from 2 to 4 P.M. For instruction in this department the class is divided into two as nearly equal parts as practicable, which alternate in attendance at the Drawing Academy.
The third class have pure mathematics, analytical Geometry, descriptive geometry, and the principles of shades, shadows, and perspective, from 8 to 11 A.M. daily. They also have French from 11 A.M., till 1 P.M., alternating with Spanish.
The entire class attend drawing daily till November 1st, when it is divided into two equal parts or platoons, which attend drawing and riding on alternate clays. Riding! "Yearling riding!" I must advert to that before I go further. First let me describe it. A platoon of yearlings, twenty, thirty, forty perhaps; as many horses; a spacious riding- hall, with galleries that seat but too many mischievous young ladies, and whose interior is well supplied with tan bark, make up the principal objects in the play. Nay, I omit the most important characters, the Instructor and the necessary number of enlisted, men.
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Area of barracks. At guard-house door stands an orderly, with drum in hands. In the area a number of cadets, some in every-day attire, others dressed à la cavalier. These à la cavalier fellows are going to take their first lesson in riding. About four- fifths of them were never on a horse in their lives, and hence what dire expectations hover over their ordinarily placid heads! They have heard from the upper classmen what trials the novice experiences in his first efforts, and they do not go to the riding-hall without some dread. Four o'clock and ten minutes. The drum is beaten.
Officer of the Day.—Form your platoon! Right, face!
Call your roll!
Section Marcher.—Bejay! Barnes! Du Furing! Swikeheimer! Du Flicket, etc.
Platoon (answering to their names).—Here! Here-re- re! ho-o-o! hi-i-i! har-ar-ar! Heer-r!
Section Marcher (facing about salutes).—All are present, sir!
Officer of the Day (returning salute).—March off your platoon, sir!
Section Marcher (facing about).—Left face! forward. March! (Curtain falls.)
ACT II.
SCENE I.
The riding-hall, a large, spacious, rectangular structure, door on each side and at each end, floor well covered with tan bark, spacious gallery over each side door, staircases outside leading to them. Galleries are occupied, one by ladies, and, perhaps a number of gentlemen, and the other by enlisted men usually. In the centre of the hall are a number of horses, each equipped with a surcingle, blanket, and watering bridle. A soldier stands at the head of each one of them. As curtain rises enter platoon by side door, and marches around the left flank of the line of horses and as far forward as necessary.
Section Marcher.—Platoon, halt! left, face! (Saluting Instructor) All are present, sir!
Instructor (saluting).—The Section Marcher will take his place on the left.
He then gives all necessary instruction.
"To mount the trooper the Instructor first causes him to stand to horse by the command 'Stand to horse!' At this command—" Well, see "Cavalry Tactics."
We've got the trooper mounted now. After some further explanation the Instructor forms them into a column of files by the commands:
"By file, by the right (or left) flank. March!"
They are now going around the hall at a walk, a slow, snail-like pace, but what figures some of them present! Still all goes on quite well. The Instructor is speaking:
"To trot," says he, "raise the hands" ("yearlings" use both hands) "slightly. This is to apprise the horse that you want his attention. Then lower the hands slightly, and at the same time gently press the horse with the legs until he takes the gait desired. As soon as he does, relax the pressure." A long pause. The occupants of the galleries are looking anxiously on. They know what is coming next. They have seen these drills over and over again. And so each trooper awaits anxiously the next command. Alas! It comes! "Trot!"
What peals of laughter from that cruel gallery! But why? Ah! See there that trooper struggling in the tan bark while a soldier pursues his steed. He is not hurt. He gets up, brushes away the tan bark, remounts and starts off again. But there, he's off again! He's continually falling off or jumping off purposely (?). What confusion! There comes one at a full gallop, sticking on as best he can; but there, the poor fellow is off. The horses are running away. The troopers are dropping off everywhere in the hall. No one is hurt. Alas! they pressed too hard to keep on, and instead of relaxing the pressure at the desired gait, the trot, they kept on pressing, the horse taking the trot, the gallop, the run, and the trooper, alas! the dust. Again they had the reins too long, and instead of holding on by the flat of the thighs with their feet parallel to the horse, we see them making all sorts of angles. But that gallery! that gallery! how I used to wish it wasn't there! The very sight of a lady under such circumstances is most embarrassing.
Fair ones, why will you thus torture the "yearlings" by your at other times so desirable presence?
The fourth class have pure mathematics, and algebra, daily from 8 to 11 A.M., and French also, daily, from 2 to 4 P.M. Beginning on October 15th, or as near that time as practicable, they have fencing, and the use of the bayonet and small-sword.
During the month of September cadets of all classes, or the battalion, are instructed in the infantry tactics in the "School of the Battalion." Near the end of the month it is customary to excuse the officers of the first class from these drills, and to detail privates to perform their duties for one drill only at a time. The other classes are in ranks, or the line of file-closers, according as they are sergeants, guides, or privates.
During October the several classes receive practical instruction as follows: The first class in military engineering, the manner of making and recording the details of a military reconnoissance, and field sketching; the second class in siege and sea-coast artillery, and military signalling and telegraphy. The class is divided into two parts, composed of the odd and even numbers, which attend drills on alternate days—that is, artillery one day and signalling the next; the third class in light or field artillery, and the theory and principles of "target practice." Sometimes this latter is given during camp, as is most convenient. Sometimes, also, they receive instruction in ordnance. This, however, is generally deferred till they become first-classmen.
For further instruction of the first class the following part of the personnel of a light battery is detailed from that class, viz.: three chiefs of platoon, one chief of caissons, one guidon, and six chiefs of section. Each member of the class is detailed for each of these offices in his proper order.
The fourth class receives instruction in field artillery at the "foot batteries." This instruction is limited to the nomenclature and manual of the piece. Here, also, to assist the instructor, a chief of piece for each piece is detailed. They are required to correct all errors made by the plebes, and sometimes even to drill them. Hence a knowledge of tactics is indispensable, and the means of fixing such knowledge in the mind is afforded.
Sometimes also two first-classmen are required to assist at the siege or sea-coast batteries.
Every day throughout the year a guard is mounted. It consists of two officers of the guard—sometimes only one—one sergeant, three corporals—or more— and twenty-four privates—sometimes, also, eighteen or twenty-one in camp, and twenty-seven in barracks. Every day, also, there is one officer of the day detailed from the first class.
The weather permitting, we have "dress parade" daily. When unfavorable, on account of snow, rain, or severe cold, we have "undress parade"—that is, parade without arms and in undress or fatigue uniform, the object being to get us all together to publish the orders, etc., for the morrow. After November 1st we usually have "undress parade," and then "supper mess parade." Between these two ceremonies the cadets amuse themselves at the gymnasium, dancing or skating, or "spooneying," or at the library; generally, I think—the upper classmen at any rate—at the library. After supper we have recreation and then study. And thus we "live and do" till January.
The semi-annual examination begins January 1st, or as soon thereafter as practicable. The plebes are examined first, and started in their new studies as soon as possible. After the plebes the other classes are examined in the order of their rank—that is, first class, second class, and third class—and of the importance of their studies, engineering being first, then philosophy, and mathematics, etc.
The examination being over, the deficient ones, after receiving orders from the Secretary of War, are dismissed. Studies are then resumed as follows:
For the first class military engineering, ordnance, and gunnery, constitutional law, military law, rules of evidence, practice of courts-martial, mineralogy, and geology, strategy, and grand tactics, and the throwing and dismantling of pontoon bridges. For the second class, acoustics and optics, astronomy, analytical mechanics in review; infantry, artillery, and cavalry tactics; drawing, riding, and signalling. For the third class, calculus, surveying, geometry, and riding. Immediately after the examination the entire third class receive instruction in mechanical drawing before they begin their other mathematical studies. For the fourth class the studies are plane geometry, trigonometry, descriptive geometry, and fencing, including the use of the small-sword, broad- sword, and bayonet.
Parades, guard duty, etc., remain as previously described until about the middle of March usually. At that time the ordinary routine of drills, dress parades, etc., is resumed; but drills in this order, viz., from March 15th to April 1st instruction in the school of the company; in artillery tactics, as before described during April; and in infantry tactics, in the "School of the Battalion," during May. The annual examination takes place in June. The following diary, made for the purpose of insertion here, will best explain what generally occurs during the month:
MEMORANDA.
Thursday, June 1, 1876.—Resumed white pants at 5.10
P.M. Received Board of Visitors by a review at 5.10
P.M. Examination begun at 9 A.M. First class,
engineering. Salute of fifteen guns at meridian to
Board of Visitors.
Friday, June 2.—First class, engineering finished. Second class, philosophy commenced. Siege battery drill at 5.10 P.M.
Saturday, June 3.—Second class, philosophy continued.
Monday, June 5.—Light battery at 5.10 P.M. A yearling lost his "white continuations." Plebes went to parade.
Tuesday, June 6.—Fourth class, entire in French. Examination written. Second class, philosophy finished. First class, mineralogy and geology begun. Third class, mathematics begun. Battalion drill at 5.10 P.M.
Wednesday, June 7.—Second class turned out, marched to sea-coast battery at 11 A.M. Three detachments selected. Rest marched back and dismissed. Cavalry drill at 5.10 P.M. Six second-classmen turned out. Plebes put in battalion.
Thursday, June 8.—Plebes put on guard. Pontoon bridging, 5.10 P. M.
Friday, June 9.—Battalion skirmish drill 5.10 P.M. Deployed to front at double time. Second, fourth, and seventh companies reserve. Almost all manoeuvres at double time. Deployed by numbers and charged. Marched in in line, band on right. Broke into column of companies to the left, changed direction to the right, obliqued to the left, moved forward and formed "front into line, faced to the rear." Arms inspected, ammunition returned. Dismissed.
Saturday, June 10.—Third class, mathematics finished.
Miss Philips sang to cadets in mess hall after supper.
First class, ordnance begun.
Sunday, June 11.—Graduating sermon by Hon.—, of Princeton, N. J., closing "hime," "When shall we meet again?" Graduating dinner at 2 P.M.
Monday, June 12.—Detail from first class to ride in hall. Use of sabre and pistol on horseback. First class, ordnance finished. Law begun.
Tuesday, June 13.—First class finished. Board divided into committees. Second class, chemistry begun. Graduating parade. Corps cheered by graduates after parade. Hop in evening; also German; whole continuing till 3 A.M. Rumor has it two first-classmen, Slocum and Guilfoyle, are "found" in ordnance and engineering.
Wednesday, June 14.—Fourth class, mathematics begun. Salute seventeen guns at 10 A.M. in honor of arrival at post of General Sherman and Colonel Poe of his staff. Graduating exercises from 11 A.M. till near 1 P.M. Addresses to graduates. Mortar practice and fireworks at night.
This ended the "gala" days at West Point in '76.
Thursday, June 15.—Usual routine of duties resumed.
Company drills in the afternoon from 5.10 to 6.10
P.M. Rather unusual, but we're going to the Centennial.
Rumor has it we encamp Saturday the 17th for ten days.