Chapter VI: The Yearling
When we marched into camp again at the old site, which was this year named “Camp Geo. H. Thomas,” the yearlings were perfectly happy. We enjoyed the society of the plebes for awhile, but soon tired of that. We had been under such a strain during the previous year that we needed a rest, and we had it, too, as there was not much required of us for the first month. We seemed to need sleep, and we slept in the morning, again in the afternoon and all night, too. After we were rested we loitered under the trees near the guard tents during guard-mounts and band practice and mingled among the numerous summer visitors at the Point; to get acquainted was not difficult, as some of the visitors had relatives or friends in the corps, and, moreover, people get acquainted easier at a resort or a dance than almost anywhere else. Some of the yearlings never missed a hop, and there were three of them a week, from 8 to 11 p. m. Others of us who were not proficient in the art took dancing lessons occasionally, but generally found our pleasure in boating and in being with the ladies, or with one another, listening to the music; in promenading on “Flirtation Walk,” or calling at the hotel. We idled away the whole summer, and it did us good, for, when we returned to barracks, we were ready for study again. I don’t want to be understood that we had nothing to do during camp, because many hours were spent at drill, at inspections and on guard, just enough to keep us active and healthy.
On pleasant days when not on duty we often strolled on “Flirtation Walk,” that beautiful path winding through the trees and rocks between the camp site and the river to watch passing steamers or to see the objects of interest along this walk. There are some links of a huge chain on “Trophy Point” between Professor’s Row and the hotel that was floated on logs across the Hudson during the Revolutionary War from Gee’s Point at the big bend of the river to Constitution Island[43] near the village of Cold Springs on the east side of the Hudson. We used to examine the place near the lighthouse on Gee’s Point, where one end of this chain was fastened and wonder what effect such an obstruction would be to the gunboats of to-day. At other times we would linger about Kosciuszco’s Monument, a little south of Gee’s Point, and quench our thirst at the same spring that this noble Pole drank from more than a century ago when he built Fort Clinton—that is, nearby on the plain—while at the same time General Putnam constructed the numerous other fortifications on the neighboring hills. Then we would visit Battery Knox, near Kosciuszco’s garden, to see the beautiful view down the Hudson that this work commands, or go to see still another handsome view up the Hudson from Trophy Point or Siege Battery at the north, or rather the west end of Flirtation Walk. Battery Knox, and Seacoast, Siege and Mortar batteries are of comparative recent origin and were built by the cadets. There are many monuments, aside from those in the little cemetery, that have been erected at salient points about the grounds to heroes who freely sacrificed their lives in the cause of freedom. Some of those brave men shed their blood to give birth to our republic, others to wrest territory from the Indians or from Mexico, and still others that our Union might live. Then there are cannon and other relics of war on Trophy Point and in the “museum” that are silent teachers for all who see them. The very air about this historic spot teaches love of country, and the cadets absorb much valuable information that is not taught in the section room.
Cadets who were popular with the ladies often used to pin the “spooney buttons” on their coats, and when a cadet gave his spooney button to a young lady this act was equivalent to saying that she was the favored one.
“The ladies—may Heaven bless their faces!
They come here in summer sweet,
Each being loaded with graces,
And all have cadets at their feet.”
Lieutenant K⸺g was a popular tactical officer and quite a ladies’ man. He liked music, and at band practice he often requested the leader to play “Shoo Fly,” and so often that the cadets noticed it, and called him “Shoo Fly,” not to his face, of course, but among ourselves. Clara G⸺e, a little six-year-old girl, was a frequent visitor at camp, and she was a great admirer of Cadet W⸺e. One day he was officer of the guard and I was corporal of the guard. During dress parade my post was near the first guard tent facing the battalion, and it was my duty to see that visitors kept back of a certain line. Little Clara was out to see the dress parade, and, as Cadet W⸺e was at the guard tents, she was near him. W⸺e called me, and then told little Clara just when and where to go and what to say. There were many visitors present that evening. I took my post, and in a few minutes Lieutenant K⸺g stepped a dozen or so yards in front of me and of the line of visitors preparatory to taking post as officer in charge of the parade. Just then little Clara ran out in front of the visitors’ line, and in a loud voice called: “Lieutenant K⸺g! Oh, Lieutenant K⸺g!” which, of course, attracted everybody’s attention, and then she said, “What do they all call you ‘Shoo Fly’ for?”
One day four young ladies came to camp, and four of us yearlings met them under the trees at the guard tents. The ladies wanted us to take them out boating, and as they knew cadets had no way of providing refreshments, they themselves had brought baskets of cake and fruit. Knowing that our quartette could be absent from camp for several hours we picked up the baskets and started. Attached to our boathouse[44] there was an inclined and also a floating dock, all fastened together, so that the two docks would rise and fall with the water in the river. The floating dock had been covered with water so often that it was quite slippery, and we cautioned the young ladies about it. While we were carrying our boat from its place in the boathouse one of the young ladies ran down the inclined dock, and the moment she stepped upon the floating dock she slipped and sat down in a half inch of water. Her sister (for there were two sisters in the party) ran to her rescue, and she, too, sat down in the water. We knew nothing of the mishaps until the sisters were just getting upon their feet; then we suggested another day for the trip, but they said no, as everything was ready now we must go. All got in the boat and off we went. We rowed across the river under the bridge and landed (off limits) in the woods on the east side of the Hudson. The ladies said that they would prepare lunch, so the yearlings left them to themselves for a while. Upon our return a dainty lunch was spread upon the grass, and we all fell to with a relish, and then started upon our return to the camp. We observed that the ladies insisted upon carrying the baskets and to hold on to them while in the boat; this, of course, excited our suspicions, and we found out that the baskets contained the sisters’ laundry.
It was the rule for a corporal to march the sick of his company to the hospital at sick-call at 6:30 a. m., and as there were not many sick the custom sprang up in the corps for one corporal to take the sick-report books of all four companies to the hospital when there were no sick. So one morning near the close of Yearling Camp, when there were no sick in my company to go to the hospital, a corporal of another company took my sick-report book, and as luck would have it I was reported for “Neglect of duty, not taking sick-report book to the hospital,” and for this I was reduced to ranks, but soon afterwards I was appointed a “marker” for battalion drill, a very pleasant duty. The summer soon passed, the furlough class returned, we struck tents and our yearling camp was over.
Back to barracks we went, donned our gray pants, drew text books,[45] posted our hours of recitation and began the school work for another year.
Cavalry drill is a part of the course in each of the last three years, and the yearlings always hailed the day when they could begin cavalry drill, and at last the time came for us. The class was divided into two platoons, and a platoon at a time sent to the Riding Hall.[46] When my platoon marched into the hall we were all disappointed, for, instead of finding our horses ready saddled, they were not saddled at all. We were marched in front of the line of horses, which were being held by cavalry soldiers, the yearling on the right of the line was instructed to take the first horse, the next yearling to take the next horse, and so on to the left. The horses were bridled and had blankets on them, held in place by surcingles. Captain B⸺s explained to us how to mount, and then ordered us to mount. Some of us had no trouble in mounting, but it was very amusing to see others who had never been on a horse; it took them a long time to get on, notwithstanding the drill we had had in the gymnasium.[47] It was found that a real horse was different from a wooden horse. After all were mounted the position of the soldier, mounted, was explained to us, and our faults corrected. We were then dismounted, then mounted again. So much time was taken up in explaining details and in mounting and dismounting and correcting errors that the whole hour passed in that way. The next day we did get to ride, but for only a few minutes, and at a walk then. As the days came we rode longer each time, but always at a walk for weeks. Then came the slow trot, and it was fun to see some of the yearlings fall off, but as we had been so well drilled in mounting they were soon on again. That first day at the slow trot we all got very sore. Many of the horses were hard trotters, and many a yearling had chafed legs. I remember seeing several of my class who suffered a great deal, so much that for a time the blood ran down on their shoes. We were taught to saddle and unsaddle, to fold the saddle blanket, to bridle and unbridle, to ride with saddles, first at a walk, then a trot and then at a gallop. We were then taught to ride with a sabre and then given sabre exercises, and then the use of the pistol, then without saddles to mount and dismount, first at a walk, then at a trot, then at a gallop and then at the full speed of the horse; then to jump hurdles, then to jump a hurdle, dismount, mount and jump another hurdle, the horse going at full speed; then to use the sabre, cutting at leather balls, called heads, one on a post, one on the ground and another on a post; then to jump a hurdle and with the sabre to catch a ring at the same time from a string suspended near the hurdle, then to cut a head on the ground, then one on a post and then to jump another hurdle, catch another ring and take another head. We were also taught the various platoon movements, and occasionally on pleasant days we were taken out for long rides into the country.
Visitors at the Point often wanted to see how the cadets lived, and when they went about it right, i. e., made the acquaintance of certain tactical officers, their requests were sometimes granted. Lieutenant K⸺g came to my room one morning after he had made his regular inspection and said that he had wanted to bring some visiting ladies and gentlemen over to see my room, but from the looks of things he thought it inadvisable. I replied that all would be in order in a few minutes, and when ready I’d go to the hall door, where he could see me. To this he assented. My room at that particular time was in bad order. O’C⸺r and I had our guns apart and cleaning materials and rags scattered about the floor, and worse, two of our classmates who lived across the hall from us brought their chairs to our room, and we four were playing whist, but Lieutenant K⸺g was good enough not to notice our visitors or cards, and he did not report us. In a few minutes all was in order, and I went to the hall door as a signal. In a few minutes more Lieutenant K⸺g arrived with, the visitors; they wanted to see our guns, but fearing criticism he made an excuse that they were all alike. O’C⸺r and I at once got our rifles and the Lieutenant was amazed to see them in fine condition. Afterwards he told us that he did not know how we put things in shape in such a short time.
One pleasant Saturday afternoon a party of young ladies arrived with baskets of refreshments to meet a party of yearlings for a trip to “Cro’ Nest.” As I was the only one of the yearlings not “on punishment” or “in confinement” I met the young ladies, explained the situation and said that the trip would have to be postponed. They replied that as two of the young ladies were to leave for New York on Monday next they were determined to go to Cro’ Nest at once, and that if I would not go that the ladies would go alone. Seeing that they were determined to go I went with them. We climbed to the top of the mountain and had a good view, as Cro’ Nest is near the top of the highest peak around. The mountain is covered with timber, and after leaving the top it was hard to tell just where we would find our way down. Unfortunately, we reached the foot of the mountain at a point on the Hudson where the bank was about vertical, and so high that we had to climb more than half way up again to get down on the other side of that ridge. This consumed so much time that when we reached the Dutchwoman’s it was after 10 o’clock at night. Alfred, the Dutchwoman’s son, was there, and we sent him for Lieutenant K⸺g to take the young ladies to Cold Springs, where some of them lived and the others were visiting. Cold Springs was off cadet limits, hence I could not risk going there, when I knew I had been reported absent from dress parade and from quarters, so I bade the young ladies adieu and reported with as little delay as possible to the cadet officer of the day, who had made search for me and was about to send a detail to hunt for me. Immediately after breakfast the next morning I went to the Dutchwoman’s, saw Alfred and learned that he had found Lieutenant K⸺g in ample time to catch the last ferryboat at 11 p. m., but that the Lieutenant waited to finish a game of billiards he was playing at the officers’ mess,[48] and he arrived with the ladies at the North Landing just in time to see the last ferryboat beyond call. The party then went to the Engineer Barracks, a half mile or more distant, got a large engineer boat, and Lieutenant K⸺g himself rowed the young ladies across the Hudson to Cold Springs, and did not return until after reveille the following Sunday morning. I hastened back to my quarters and worked hard on my gun in preparing my room for inspection (for I was room orderly that week), for I felt that the Lieutenant would be especially careful with me at inspection, and so he was, but he could find nothing to report me for. After inspecting my room he said, “Mr. R⸺d, you had quite an adventure yesterday?” I replied, “Yes, sir.” He then asked: “Did the young ladies get home safely?” and I answered, “You ought to know more about that than I do, sir.” He left the room, banged the door and accepted my explanation for my absence the day before.
Before we could realize it Thanksgiving came and went, Christmas and the boxes of sweetmeats arrived, and as no Christmas leaves were granted this year we took a greater interest than usual in an entertainment that came off in the Mess Hall on New Year’s Eve.
The January examinations came again, and as is always the case there were many failures, among them being my tall young friend from Tennessee. After changing our hours of recitation the steady grind went on as usual.
About 1 o’clock in the morning of the 5th of February “long roll” sounded, and, of course, this meant for everybody to turn out promptly. In a few minutes after the call sounded the cadet companies formed in the area, and in a few minutes more those in the fire department had our little hand engine out and at work, for the cadet barracks were on fire. Tony R⸺r held the nozzle and directed the stream on the roof of the “Fourth Division,” where the flames were the thickest. The bucket brigade was also soon at work. Some of the plebes in the cock-loft of the Fourth Division did not awake until after their rooms were filled with smoke, and when roll was called they were discovered absent, and formed lines taking hold of hands and went into their rooms that were filled with smoke and brought them out. We worked until after daylight the next morning. Engineer and cavalry soldiers soon arrived to help us, but much damage was done before the fire was put out. Most of the roof was destroyed and great damage done to the “Dialectic Society Room” over the Sally Port and to the cock-loft rooms of the Fourth Division. No one was injured, but some of the cadets lost everything except their nightclothes, which they had escaped in. The unfortunate ones found accommodations by doubling-up with their classmates. Recitations begun at 8 a. m. that day as though nothing had happened, and in a few weeks the damage to the building was repaired, and a little later Congress, which was then in session, made good all losses.
PROGRAMME
OF THE
Entertainment Given by the
U. S. Corps of Cadets,
NEW YEAR’S EVE., 1870
WEST POINT.
Overture Orchestra
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Cadet Life at West PointChapter VI: The Yearling
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