To him, more than to any one man, is due the elevation of the Military Academy to its high rank among schools of learning both in this country and abroad.

Upon taking over the command, he immediately drew upon his genius for organization, with the result that the cadets were organized into a battalion of two companies, a “Commandant of Cadets” was created, the classes were for study purposes divided into sections, transfers were made between sections, and weekly reports, showing daily progress in studies, were rendered. Moreover, the system and scale of daily marks, the publication of the Annual Register, the introduction of the Board of Visitors, the check-book system, the preponderating influence of the blackboard, and the essential part of the modern Regulations are proofs of his untiring efforts as an executive. The above changes that he effected, and the reforms that he introduced, are a part of the modern organization of West Point. Perhaps no one method has so much influenced the quality of the instruction of the cadets as the blackboard recitations. Major Thayer insisted on this form, although old records show that it was introduced at West Point by Mr. George Baron, a civilian teacher, who in the autumn of 1801 gave to Cadet Swift “a specimen of his mode of teaching at the blackboard.” Today it is the prominent feature in Academic instruction.

Major Thayer’s success in giving West Point an upward impetus had attracted general attention and observation throughout the country so that appointments were now sought after with avidity. The politicians rejoiced at the Academy’s increased importance and the consequent patronage that the appointments offered. Although the present law did not obtain, whereby Congressmen appointed cadets, still it had been the custom for the President to appoint men to West Point upon the recommendation of a Representative. In 1843, a law was passed that allowed one cadet for each congressional district. Major Thayer was at his own request relieved as Superintendent, after a brilliant administration whose results were so beneficial to the institution as to gain for him from posterity the title of “Father of the Military Academy.”

Could Major Thayer have only peered into the future he would have seen Fame, years later, crowning three of his raw young cadets. One of the lads at West Point under Major Thayer was Edgar Allan Poe, America’s foremost literary genius. He entered West Point July 1, 1830, but after a troublous stay of a little over eight months was dismissed for repeated misconduct. Not a great deal is known of his brief cadet days, but his classmates have stated that he was irritable and morose, and addicted to excessive drinking. He would steal out of barracks sometimes, long after taps, and “run it out” to “Old Benny Havens,” a tavern kept by Benny Havens on the banks of the Hudson about a mile below West Point. Benny Havens’ name is preserved in song and story at West Point, and tales that surrounded the cadet reunions in ye olden days at “Benny’s” are flavored with all the romance of a mythical legend. Old Benny died in 1877 at the ripe age of eighty-nine years, but his name survives in a stirring West Point song that I quote in part:

Poe, however, was only one of many who disobeyed the regulations, but he did not care for military life and made no effort to conceal his offenses. Finally he was tried by court-martial. For two weeks prior to his trial he neglected almost all of his studies as a cadet. Two of the specifications against him were for absences from parades and roll calls and two for disobedience of orders, but at the trial, he deliberately pleaded guilty to the latter and not guilty to the former, the most patent and obvious of his offenses. Whether or not he did this from a sense of humor, is not known, but his action was not calculated to help him in the eyes of his superiors. He was dismissed March 6, 1831. Four days later he wrote Major Thayer the following letter:

Letter of Edgar Allan Poe, Lately Cadet, U. S. M. A., to the Superintendent: 1831.
(Original in the library U. S. M. A.)

New York,
Mar. 10, 1831.

Sir:

Having no longer any ties to bind me to my country—no prospects—nor friends—I intend by the first opportunity to proceed to Paris with the view of obtaining through the interest of the Marquis De La Fayette, an appointment (if possible) in the Polish Army. In the event of the interference of France in behalf of Poland this may easily be effected—in all events it will be my only feasible plan of procedure.

The object of this letter is respectfully to request that you will give me such assistance as may be in your power in the furtherance of my views.

A certificate of standing in my class is all that I may have a right to expect.

Anything further—a letter to a friend in Paris—or to the Marquis—would be a kindness which I would never forget.

Most respectfully,
Yr. obt. st.
Edgar Allan Poe.

Poe, however, abandoned the plan and little more was heard of his whereabouts by his friends at West Point.

The two other cadets under Major Thayer, were Jefferson Davis and Robert E. Lee, but their history is too well known to bear repetition here. Suffice to say that Jefferson Davis was mischievous and human enough as a cadet to be court-martialed for an escapade.

The prosperity of the Academy continued in spite of its opponents in Congress who, just prior to the Mexican War, came near accomplishing its overthrow, but the brilliant achievements of its graduates in that conflict silenced for a while their mutterings. Many young officers who served with distinction in this war were later to win greater fame in the titanic Civil War. Grant (class of ’43); Sherman (’40); Hancock (’44); Thomas (’40); Meade (’35); Hooker (’30); Sedgwick (’37) participated in the campaigns against the Mexicans.

The nation was given ample proof of the wisdom of Washington, Hamilton, and Knox in their efforts to establish a Military Academy wherein officers might be educated and trained to organize and discipline citizen soldiers, and lead them to victory. At West Point today there are bronze cannon, tattered flags, and mutilated flagstaffs, trophies of the Mexican War that were presented to the Academy by General Winfield Scott, the Commanding General of the Army, who stated, “as under Providence it is mainly to the Military Academy that the United States became indebted for those brilliant achievements and other memorable victories in the same war, I have a lively pleasuring in tendering the seven trophies (semi-national) to the mother of so many accomplished soldiers and patriots.”

The close of the Mexican War found the Military Academy the pet and idol of the National Legislature. All of its requirements were solicitously studied and plenty of funds were forthcoming to supply its wants. As time went on, however, and no foe appeared at our door, the usual indifference on the part of some toward military affairs, and the open hostilities of others, were manifested. As before in its history, the Academy became the object of numerous attacks, but it ignored them, continuing unobtrusively the preparation of her cadets for their future work, little realizing how important this work was soon to be.

In 1852, Brevet-Colonel R. E. Lee, Corps of Engineers, class of 1829, was appointed Superintendent. Under his administration the course was extended to include five years, embracing more English studies and Military Law. A new riding hall was completed in 1855 which greatly increased the opportunity for cavalry exercises. Colonel Lee, having transferred to the Cavalry arm of the Service, was relieved as Superintendent, April, 1855, because according to law at that time, only Engineer officers could serve as Superintendent.

The year before Lee’s administration began, there entered West Point in July, 1851, a cadet, James Abbott McNeill Whistler, aged sixteen years and eleven months, destined to become one of America’s greatest artists. Whistler remained three years at West Point when he was discharged for deficiency in chemistry. In speaking in after years of his experiences with this study, he said, “Had silicon been a gas, I would have been a Major-General.” He was called up for examination in the subject of chemistry, which also covered the studies of mineralogy and geology, and given silicon to discuss. When called upon to recite, he stated: “I am required to discuss the subject of silicon. Silicon is a gas.” “That will do, Mr. Whistler,” said the Professor, and the artist soldier retired quickly to private life.

Another story was told of him in an examination in history. “What!” said an officer who was his instructor, “you do not know the date of the Battle of Buena Vista? Suppose you were to go out to dinner and the company began to talk of the Mexican War, and you, a West Point man, were asked the date of the battle. What would you do?”

“Do,” said Whistler, “why, I should refuse to associate with people who would talk of such things at dinner.”

Although Whistler was not a success in defining silicon or remembering dates, he excelled in drawing, standing at the head of his class. The Professor of Drawing at the time was Robert W. Weir, an artist of no mean ability himself and of generally recognized standing. For Whistler, Professor Weir always had a high esteem on account of the unusual talent he displayed in the drawing classes. Specimens of his work as a cadet are still preserved at West Point.

In 1860, the rumblings of trouble over the slave question began to be heard even in the secluded Highlands of the Hudson. At first the Southern and Northern cadets ardently advocated the views of their respective States, arguing with all of the warmth and enthusiasm of their young natures but without any particular bitterness. Soon, however, the gathering of the war clouds and the noise of the storm that was brewing brought the Southern cadets face to face with a problem that of its nature was most difficult to solve. Each one had sworn allegiance to the Government and taken an oath to defend it against all enemies. What should they do? To remain and support the Federal Government meant to fight against their own flesh and blood, yet to resign was to break one’s sworn word. As a Southerner myself, I have often reflected upon the mental suffering that those fellow cadets of “the long grey line” must have experienced, trying to decide upon their duty. General Schaff, in The Spirit of Old West Point, gives us a vivid picture of those days at the Academy. So much has been written about the cadets who left West Point to fight with the Southern forces that the following data may prove interesting.

At the outbreak of the Civil War there were from the Southern States eighty-six cadets. Of this number sixty-three resigned, from various causes connected with the war, leaving twenty-one who remained loyal to the Government. In the Army, it is a remarkable fact that of the officers of Southern blood appointed from civil life, one half went with the Confederacy, whereas only one fifth of the West Pointers went South. One hundred and sixty-two Southern graduates withstood the terrible strain of fighting their own people, and remained true to the flag.

Although up to the time of the Civil War no graduates of West Point had been appointed to the rank of general officer, the war had not been in progress a year before the country eagerly turned to men from the Academy to lead its armies. In September, 1861, six of the eleven generals in the Regular Army were graduates. At the conclusion of the war sixteen of the seventeen Regular general officers of the line were graduates. Sixty-six graduates rose during the war to the grade of major-general and 112 to that of brigadier-general of volunteers, which means that more than one third of the graduates engaged in the war rose to the grade of general officer. Nine received the thanks of Congress for conspicuous gallantry.

Turning to the Confederate forces, we find a similar state of affairs. Of the West Pointers in the Confederate service, eighteen were made full generals, fifteen lieutenant-generals, forty major-generals, and eighty-eight brigadier-generals. In command of all was Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy, and a West Pointer.

The most famous West Pointer on the Union side was Ulysses S. Grant, class of 1843, but scarcely less noted were Sheridan (’53), and Sherman (’45). Other graduates whose services were most conspicuous follow: George H. Thomas (’40), Meade (’35), Hooker (’35), Sedgwick (’37), McClellan (’46), Halleck (’39), McPherson (’53), Rosecrans (’42), Warren (’50), Pleasanton (’44), and Gregg (’55).

On the Confederate side we find Lee (’29), Early (’37), Jackson (’46), A. S. Johnston (’26), A. P. Hill (’47), Daniel H. Hill (’42), and Longstreet (’42), Ewell (’40), and Stuart (’54).

At the conclusion of the Civil War, a struggle between three million combatants, all of the armies in the field on both sides were commanded by graduates; nearly all of the corps; a large majority of the divisions; the staff corps or organization of supply of both forces, and many of the brigades. Every important battle of the war was commanded on one or both sides by a graduate—generally both. This was the verdict of the end of the great conflict after a test to which no other institution of learning has ever been put.

After the Civil War the Academy began to drop out of public notice because the people were more interested in the commercial development of the country. Apathy on the part of the public has never, however, affected West Point’s attitude toward its duty, so that year after year graduates were sent forth to fight the Indians upon the Plains where they underwent great hardships of which the country was ignorant.

Then came the Spanish War to test again the product of the Academy, but the work of the graduates in Cuba and the Philippines gave ample proof that the metal was still good and well stamped.

With the advent of Colonel A. L. Mills as Superintendent, the Academy received a fresh impetus and many important changes were effected. The Corps in 1900 was increased by one hundred cadets, hazing in all of its forms was practically abolished after a long bitter fight, and elaborate plans were inaugurated for the enlargement and rebuilding of West Point. In this connection the late Colonel Charles W. Larned, Professor of Drawing, distinguished himself. It is largely due to his indefatigable efforts and to the foresight and ability of the late General Mills, and to the Secretary of War, Elihu Root, that West Point has its magnificent new buildings. Their construction extended over a long period, from 1904 to 1911, during which time the courses were expanded and improved to meet the needs of our new Army.

Once again the country is at war, this time with the most powerful and resourceful enemy that our citizens have been called upon to face.

The graduates of West Point will prove as true to their traditions in this struggle as they have in the past, and West Point knows that they will return in triumph to their Alma Mater who ever stands ready to press the cup of greeting to the lips of all honorable and loyal sons.

CHAPTER III
THE REALIZATION OF AN ARCHITECT’S DREAM

When the springtime rolls around and the Hudson River is at its best, the annual influx of visitors begins to arrive at West Point. Trains and boats disgorge official visitors, tourists, boy scouts, delegations of various brotherhoods and sisterhoods, and picknickers galore. Little groups of them appear in all corners of the Post, in the area of Barracks, on the Plain, in the Public Buildings, and along the famous Flirtation Walk. Their chief interest, of course, is to catch a glimpse of the cadets, either en masse or individually. When the Corps starts either to meals or to dress parade, they gather along the sidewalks, or at the visitors’ seats to watch the marching. Some openly express their enthusiasm and pleasure, genuinely delighted at everything they see, while others remain silent and phlegmatic apparently taking only a languid interest in their surroundings.

As I watch my fellow-countrymen strolling about the grounds of the Academy, I often wonder what are their impressions of this institution. To many, of course, the historic traditions of West Point, as well as its functions and purposes, are thoroughly familiar, but to a vast majority West Point is a closed book. They see the cadets, the drills, the buildings, perhaps parade, but they never have an opportunity to acquaint themselves with the intimate life of the Academy. They do not derive the full benefit from their visit, because they are in the position of regarding the institution from the outside. In many cases, the spirit of investigation is restrained by a feeling of timidity upon their part, a feeling of awe in the face of military surroundings.

The Army is so little known to the people in the United States, that, to the average civilian, there seems to be some sort of mystery surrounding military life, and the presence of a man in uniform, with a waist belt and pistol, doing plain police duty, appears to act as a check on every natural impulse. The pleasure of his visit is consequently marred to some extent and he feels somewhat ill-at-ease. He wants to investigate with greater freedom, but he shrinks from being told that his projects are “Verboten.” Upon his departure he must of necessity have but a superficial idea of the great work done at the Academy, unless he has been fortunate enough to have some friend stationed at West Point who dissipates the apparently cold atmosphere of military life.

I have often regretted, as I watched the crowds swarming around, that each individual might not carry away a real appreciation of West Point, instead of leaving with only the most superficial impressions. Unless one has graduated from the Academy it is impossible to seize fully the spirit of the institution, or have a clear idea of its intimate life. My long familiarity with West Point, both as a cadet and as an officer, prompts me to portray for the American people the history, aims, ideals, and spirit of their National Military Academy.

West Point seen for the first time from the river, whether in sunshine or through the mists, is a sight not soon forgotten. The monumental Riding Hall that rises out of the cliff of which it seems to form a part, first fixes the eye, but as one’s glance wanders a little higher it drinks in the towering pile of Post Headquarters; higher yet, the eye rests for a moment on the crenelated border of the roof of the Academic Building, and then, higher still, it pauses to contemplate the beauty of West Point’s crowning architectural achievement, the Cadet Chapel. For a moment the beholder seems withdrawn from the sordid material world, and filled with a multitude of noble impressions. He experiences a spiritual uplift as he admires the majestic simplicity and grandeur of the buildings, an architectural triumph worthy to have inspired Ruskin’s beautiful thought, “frozen music.”

When the Government determined to rebuild West Point, nearly fifteen years ago, the presence of two fine buildings of Gothic design—the Library and the Cadet Barracks—decided the style of architecture. These two buildings ranked as perhaps the most successful examples of the Collegiate Gothic that was much in vogue for educational institutions in the country half a century ago. A limited competition was held for designs and all architects who had distinguished themselves in Gothic work were invited to participate. Several beautiful designs for a Renaissance treatment were offered, but one group of architects, Cram, Goodhue, and Ferguson, submitted drawings for so admirable a Gothic treatment that they received the unanimous approval of a board of judges composed of eminent architects. The construction of the new buildings lasted over a period of about seven years, during which time the work was under the direction of Colonel John M. Carson, Jr., Quartermaster, who was representing the Government. In writing a book on West Point, any mention of the buildings involves the name of Colonel Carson who performed his difficult work with an unusual amount of zeal and intelligence. The result is that the new buildings are splendidly constructed, and because the architects had an eye for harmony these structures seem to grow out of the rocks upon which they stand, emphasizing rather than detracting from West Point’s natural beauty.

The north road from the station passes first, on the river side, the Power House built of granite from local quarries. It is designed to supply the entire institution with electricity for light and power, and the central buildings with heat from exhaust steam. In a building of this nature, a factory-like look would be taken for granted and pardoned, but, on the contrary, its design is not only adapted for its function, but the building forms an important link in the architectural whole. It assumes its place quite naturally and modestly, almost unobtrusively in the natural landscape, tying the buildings in the upper terrace with the base. The tall smoke-stack is cleverly concealed within the walls of an imposing granite tower.

On a slightly higher level, and paralleling the river, is the Riding Hall splendidly impressive with its broad flat buttresses. The latter seem almost akin to the classic order, and serve in a very large measure to reconcile the classicism of the neighboring Cullum Memorial Hall,—an exotic among its surroundings—with the dominant Gothic of the place. The present Riding Hall occupies the site of not only the old hall, but also of the old Cavalry stables, and barracks. The old hall was built in 1855 and, for the number of cadets at West Point during the ensuing fifty years, it was sufficiently large. With the increase of the Corps of Cadets, and the quickened interest throughout the Service in equitation, however, more spacious accommodations for instruction were required. Usually when a building has served a useful and honorable purpose for many years, its demolition is generally viewed with regret. There was, however, no sentimental attachment for the Riding Hall. Many a painful hour had cadets spent within its walls learning to ride on the bare back of a raw-boned horse, or floundering around in the spongy tanbark.

In the little plaza at the junction of the Power House and Riding Hall, the road winds and passes under the mediæval arch of the Post Headquarters, or Administration Building. At this point, the bulk and dignity of the buildings are stupendous, and admiringly we stand, imprisoned, it would seem, in a quadrangle of Middle Age fortresses, whose sternness and solemnity seem symbolic of discipline and strength. The main entrance to the Riding Hall branches from the road a few paces beyond the arch, the lower level of the galleries being reached by a flight of steps that cling to the steep retaining wall of the road. The great arena is 150 by 600 feet and is covered by a cantilever roof, so that when the eye first encounters this interior, a sensation of its vastness holds the spectator in its grip. The roof is mostly of glass so as to afford a maximum of light, and the floor is covered with tanbark to make more endurable any sudden and unexpected descent from the back of a capricious beast. The building is steam-heated and electric lighted, for during the winter months, equitation drills extend into the late afternoon. The hall can be divided by curtains into three smaller halls, a scheme that permits three classes to undergo instruction at the same time. In one portion of the hall are stalls for one hundred mounts, but the majority of the horses are kept at the cavalry barracks. The hall is so large that during the winter months the U. S. M. A. Battery of Artillery uses it for a drill ground, thereby keeping the horses in good condition and the men well instructed. Moreover, the officers and cadets are enabled to keep up their practice in polo. Every Wednesday and Saturday afternoon, teams of cadets play each other, or try their skill against civilian opponents. Along the full length of the west wall, and the north and south end, are balconies for the accommodation of visitors who are welcome whenever the hall is open.

Passing once more under the arch, we admire again for a moment the graceful Herculean proportions of the Administration Building whose imposing square tower, tipped with four smaller towers at the corners, rises precipitately one hundred and sixty feet. It is an interesting fact in these days of steel construction that this tower is built of solid masonry. At the southeast angle of the building, on a level with the base of the main floor, is an enormous eagle carved in granite, its head high, its wings outstretched and flattened back proudly against the two sides of the edifice, as if proclaiming to the world its mission of protection over the Academy whose administrative heart is enclosed in this structure. As we ascend the stairway, alongside the basement at the left, we pass a large Gothic window which affords light to a vaulted hall used for courts-martial. The interior of this hall is in keeping with the mediæval donjon appearance of the whole building, and of such a chill and forbidding aspect as to inspire in the accused a feeling of guilt, nolens volens. The flight of stairs mounts to the level of the Post proper where an eastern view of the building is disclosed. A large sally-port leads into the court around which the building is constructed.

The exterior walls are ornamented with shields representing the coats-of-arms of various states, territories, and foreign possessions prepared from the official seals, and expressed according to the laws of Heraldry. The only coat-of-arms of an individual is that of George Washington, at the top of the east elevation of the courtyard. The obverse and reverse of the great seal of the United States will be found above the east and west entrances, respectively, of the sally-port. Flanking the obverse of the great seal are the seal of the War Department and the device of the Corps of Engineers. In addition to the shields, the devices of the various staff departments, usually associated with a headquarters, have been placed in the sally-port. Two of them, the Adjutant-General’s Department, and the Quartermaster’s Department, are on shields on the north side of the sally-port, and the Subsistence Department, Signal Corps, Pay Department, Ordnance Department, Inspector-General’s Department, Judge-Advocate-General’s Department, Medical Department, and Chaplain’s Corps, are on corbels at the bases of the ribs of the arch.

In the courtyard the names that are carved in the granite were selected for the following reasons:

Upon the second floor is the Academic Board room, a Gothic hall illuminated with stained glass windows containing emblems of the various arts and sciences. The most striking feature of the room is the massive stone mantel, modeled by Laurie and ornamented with statuettes of the world’s greatest warriors.

The description of the statuettes and the reasons for selecting the subject are given in a letter to Dr. Holden, late librarian, dated November 23, 1906. An Advisory Board of officers recommended:

That the character of the figures on the mantlepiece be of a general military type—historical or legendary—best suited to harmonize with the architectural treatment and selected by the architects themselves from the three lists in this letter of November 23, 1906.

The heads appearing at the top of the mantel—in the crenelations—have no relation to the statuettes underneath. The small shields immediately below the statuettes are, however, indicative of the subjects as follows:

Joshua. Sun and Moon—taken from the Biblical legend describing the distinctly miraculous standing still of the Sun on the occasion of a certain battle.

Hector of Troy. Mycenæan Scroll—a sort of triangular fylfot, which stands for Mycenæan civilization. This device would apply equally to that of Troy of which Hector was the greatest figure.

David. King of all Israel, warrior and psalmist—the harp—selected by the architects instead of a little sling, especially since the head of Goliath is under the foot of the figure above.

Alexander the Great. A conventionalized Gordian knot severed.

Julius Cæsar. The standard carried by the famous Roman Legions.

Charlemagne. King of the Franks—The imperial iron crown.

King Arthur of England. The Holy Grail, symbolizing the whole purpose of his career.

Godfrey de Bouillon. Heraldic cross of Jerusalem of which city he was king and which forms a part of his own coat-of-arms.

Judas Maccabeus. The hammer—which is the actual meaning of the name “Maccabeus.”

In the mantel, the figures are arranged chronologically and historically. Three of them, i. e., Hector, Alexander, and Cæsar, were Heathen; three were Christians, viz.: Charlemagne, King Arthur, and Godfrey; and three were Jews, viz.: Joshua, David, and Judas.

The choice of subjects was suggested to the architects by Caxton’s preface to the first volume of Sir Thomas Malory’s Morte d’Arthur, from which the following quotation covering the choice of the figures is taken:

For it is notorly known through the universal world, that there be nine worthy and the best that ever were, that is to wit, three Paynims, three Jews, and three Christian men. As for the Paynims, they were to-fore the Incarnation of Christ, which were named, the first Hector of Troy, of whom the history is comen both in ballad and in prose, the second Alexander the Great, and the third Julius Cæsar, Emperor of Rome, of whom the histories be well known and had. And as for the three Jews, which were also to-fore the Incarnation of our Lord, of whom the first was Duke Joshua which brought the children of Israel into the land of behest, the second David, King of Jerusalem, and the third Judas Maccabeus, of these three the Bible rehearseth all their noble histories and acts. And since the said Incarnation have been three noble Christian men, stalled and admitted through the universal world into the number of the nine best and worthy. Of whom was first the noble Arthur. The second was Charlemain, or Charles the Great, of whom the history is had in many places, both in French and English. And the third and last was Godfrey of Boloine.

Upon the same floor as the Academic Board room are the three offices of the Superintendent, the Adjutant, and the clerks. The Headquarters building houses, moreover, the offices of the Treasurer, the Quartermaster, the printing shops, the Post Office, and the Ordnance Museum, the entrance to which is at the left of the sally-port. Begun in 1854, the Museum has throughout the years gathered some valuable trophies of war, interesting relics, and models of the arms of all nations. Visitors are well repaid by a visit to this interesting spot. Historic relics abound in the rooms. I might mention among them a portion of the flagstaff that was at Fort Sumter in 1861; presentation swords belonging to distinguished American generals; General Grant’s uniform and horse equipment; mementoes of the Philippine insurrection and of the war with Spain, not to speak of a rare and beautiful collection of weapons of all kinds. Not the least interesting part of the exhibit are the trophies of the Revolution. In glass cases are preserved five flags captured by the American army during the Revolution, two of which were British royal colors, and three taken from the German mercenaries sent over by King George. The former were taken at Yorktown. All these flags were originally the property of General Washington by whom they were bequeathed to George Washington Parke Custis, the son of his adopted son, and grandson of Mrs. Washington. He in turn bequeathed them to the War Department, which came into possession of them in 1858. The same year Secretary Floyd presented them to the Academy.

Across the road from the Administration Building is the Cadet Mess. It is one of the oldest buildings, the main part dating from 1850. The architecture conforms in a general way to that of the new buildings. With its broad pavement in front, it sets well back from the road, possessing not only the dignity of its more imposing neighbors, but in addition a certain quaint charm.

The large central doors give access to the main hall whose walls are hung with portraits of distinguished graduates, chiefly the former Superintendents of the Academy. Perhaps the most interesting painting is that of General Robert E. Lee, who was Superintendent in 1852. Frequently I have heard visitors express surprise that General Lee’s portrait should hang in the halls of the National Military Academy, notwithstanding he was a graduate and afterwards a Superintendent. The fact that he fought against the Union, they argue, should preclude the bestowal of the honor. West Point, however, considers that since we are a united people once more, his record should be recognized by his Alma Mater from whom he learned the lessons that brought him his fame and his glory.

Symmetrically arranged in the hall are the mess tables. They are made to accommodate ten cadets, but occasionally, here and there, two tables are shoved together for economy of floor space. At these tables are twenty cadets. It is a pleasure to enter the Mess Hall prior to any meal. Every table is immaculate with its snowy clean cloth, its polished cutlery, and shining crockery. The cadets are not seated by classes but by companies, each company having a certain number of tables in the section of the hall assigned its battalion. As a rule, the ten messmates are made up of three first classmen, two second classmen, two third classmen, and three fourth classmen. The latter are given, by custom of the Corps, various duties to perform at mess such as carving the meat, procuring the coffee and milk.

Three long passageways lead from the main dining-hall to the kitchen. At first glance the super-cleanliness of the surroundings strikes the observer, but his attention is soon attracted to the numerous clever devices for cooking, and for saving time and labor. The preparation of the food for cooking occurs outside of the kitchen proper. Each department prepares its kind, whereupon it is carried to the chef to be cooked and served. The labor of preparation is greatly reduced by the liberal use of machinery. A clever electrical machine rapidly peels the potatoes, a whole bushel of them, in a few minutes; other contrivances make and cut the bread, sterilize the milk, freeze the ice-cream; and wash and dry the innumerable dishes. Without the aid of these labor-saving devices it would be impossible to maintain such an excellent mess for the cadets. Even now the capacity of the plant is tested almost to its limit, and with the increase in the Corps to 1200 cadets, it will be necessary either to enlarge the present Cadet Mess or to build a new hall. The disappearance of the present Mess, Grant Hall, will be viewed with great regret by many graduates who dined for four long years within its really historic walls.

South of the Cadet Mess is the Hospital for cadets, a large granite building perched on a terrace, well back from the road. It consists of a central portion of three stories and basement, with two wings of two stories each and basement. The older portions date from 1875, but the wings are of more recent construction. The wings are practically detached from the main portion of the building for the possible isolation of cases. The equipment is, of course, modern in every respect. Each wing contains two wards, making four in all, named respectively Cuyler, McElderry, McParlin, and Wheaton in honor of former distinguished military surgeons on duty at West Point. I do not suppose that there is a building on the Post which arouses in cadets so many different kinds of feeling. To some it is a place to be avoided, but to a large number, especially to those who succeed in entering for minor ailments, it is viewed as a haven of rest. It is the one place where the cadets are free from the irksome routine, where there is no reveille, and where the convalescents revel in what appears to them epicurean feasts. Vatel, the famous French chef, never enjoyed more renown than does the cook at the hospital.

Almost every cadet has a secret longing to be in the hospital at least for a short period during his course, and those who “break in” for slight ailments are regarded with a special esteem by their fellows. One of the first adages that a plebe learns at West Point is “faint heart never broke into the hospital.” The surgeons, however, are pretty clever men and they size up the situation very clearly in each case.

I remember that upon one occasion when I was a cadet, a group of convalescents were, one winter day, holding a mutual congratulatory meeting in one of the wards, the burden of the conversation being their luck and also their skill in remaining so long in this abode of rest. Arthur C——, who was the most successful of the disciples of the “rest cure,” was perched upon a bed explaining to an admiring line of heads in little snow-white cots, the strategy necessary to remain in the ward, finishing his discourse oratorically; “Some may come and some may go but I stay on forever!” when the door opened and in walked the surgeon. Cadet C—— was next day returned to duty.

The officer in charge of the hospital is the Post Surgeon, who is assisted by three or four captains of the Medical Corps, and by several Dental Surgeons. These officers are also in charge of the Soldiers’ Hospital, a separate building for the enlisted men of the garrison, and are responsible for the general health of the command.

The chief buildings of the Academy occupy relatively a small area of ground. Just north of the Cadet Mess and flanking the main road are the two Academic buildings, known as the East and West Academic. The East building is new, having been completed in 1913, one of the last provided for in the rebuilding of West Point. The West Academic building, which was completed in 1895, is built of Massachusetts granite and cost about five hundred thousand dollars. In this building are located the Departments of Civil and Military Engineering, Mathematics, Law, Drawing, Ordnance and Gunnery, and English and History; in the East building the Departments of Modern Languages, Chemistry and Electricity, Natural and Experimental Philosophy. The latter building is provided with the most modern lecture rooms, electrical and chemical laboratories, besides a mineralogical and geological museum. The major portion of both buildings contain the section rooms for recitation purposes. Visitors are admitted if accompanied by an officer.

The architecture of both of these buildings is Gothic, but that of the new or East building is of a more exquisite beauty. Splendidly situated, it gives the impression of bulk and mass, much the same feeling that one has in regarding a dreadnought for the first time, but this impression soon gives way to an appreciation of a certain delicacy of treatment, a simple dignity that pleases. One of the best impressions of its beauty is obtained about dusk when the evening mists dim its outlines and its surface is bathed in shadows relieved only by the glimmering of the mediæval lanterns on either side of the main door.

Immediately facing the center of the East Academic Building and across the road, is a large opening known as a sally-port through which the sections of cadets must march to recitations in the East Academic building. This passageway connects the main road with the area of barracks, a space of ground that derives its name from the brown-stone buildings that bound a portion of its perimeter. Along one side is a cement walk on which the cadets form to be marched to their recitations, and a sidewalk borders the barracks. With the exception of a small plot of grass near the Academic building the area is devoid of verdure, but is covered with a fine gravel that gives a clean and well-groomed appearance to the ground. The word “Area” has great connoting power. To a large number of cadets, it vividly brings to mind the punishment tours that they wearily trudged on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons across its surface. To the majority, however, it is the “hub” of cadet life, the assembly place for recitations, sometimes for meals; the scene of many an inspection or a guard mount, and most important of all, it contains a small insignificant building with a clock tower where dwell the Commandant of Cadets and his assistants, the Tactical officers.

The building on the north and west of the area is the South Cadet Barracks, built in 1848. This edifice, of 360 feet frontage, is constructed of native granite, with crenelations and cornices of red sandstone, and the Elizabethan style of its architecture harmonizes perfectly with the Gothic of the new buildings. In fact, the old Cadet Barracks is one of West Point’s handsomest buildings. There are two hundred rooms in the building, 14 × 22 feet, each planned to accommodate two cadets. It is completely supplied with modern plumbing, heating, and electric lights. The barracks are divided into divisions, each containing sixteen rooms. There is no lateral communication between the divisions, but a certain number of them are assigned to a company, according to its strength. At present the 1st Bn. Cos. A, B, C, and D are quartered here.

I have often stood in the Area of Barracks and looked through the north sally-port to enjoy the fine vista that it framed. A section of the Plain fills half the picture, a beautiful foreground, either when resignedly spread out to the heat of the Highland summer, or shivering under its fleecy blanket of snow, over which the winter winds angrily blow. In the upper half against the far-away background of the Highland hills is the slender flagstaff, sometimes swathed in the folds of our national emblem, sometimes resisting with all its strength the fluttering of its precious charge which seems to implore its release to join the flight of the breeze.

As we leave the north sally-port and turn toward the angle between the two sets of barracks, high on the hill the monumental Cadet Chapel, West Point’s spiritual fortress, looms above with extraordinary effectiveness. It has a fine site on a commanding spur just above the old Cadet Barracks on the west, from which point it dominates the Post. It lies in the shadow of old Fort Putnam of Revolutionary fame, and, built of stone quarried from its own hill, it seems a part of its naturally beautiful surroundings.