Whites resented the very idea of submitting to the authority of blacks, whom they considered their racial inferiors. The wife of a white lieutenant expressed a common prejudice when she wrote letters to relatives from Camp Supply in 1873 in which she decried the spectacle of black sergeants at the post with authority over white privates. In her opinion, such an inversion of the natural order constituted a “good cause for desertion.”22 Unwritten policy thus imposed a ceiling on the promotion of African American officers above the rank of captain.23 When the rare officer of color attained a higher rank, as in the case of Charles Young—who graduated from West Point in 1889 and achieved the rank of colonel during the Pershing Punitive Expedition in Mexico—an assignment was found that might evade such potentially awkward situations. In Young’s case, he was assigned first to develop the military science program at Wilberforce University, and later appointed military attaché to Haiti and Liberia.
The professional implications for command and promotion of black officers at West Point was one thing. The thought of social fraternization across racial lines was quite another. If there were black officers, they would reasonably be expected to socialize with others of their rank at the places they were stationed. “The presence of Black officers also raised the possibility of an integrated officers’ mess.” Especially at the frontier posts where officers and their wives were already hard-pressed to uphold the social conventions appropriate to their status as officers and gentlemen (and ladies), the idea of living and socializing together was opposed by the white officer corps.24
Major General John Schofield, superintendent of West Point during the time Scott and Flipper were there, expressed his doubts about the ability of Negroes to succeed at the academy, basing his views on the widespread notion that they were backward and not fit to compete with whites. He acknowledged that qualified black nominees could not be denied admission to the national school, but he was doubtful about their prospects for success and did not see it as part of the institution’s mission to work for that success. In his report for 1870, the superintendent wrote: “To send to West Point for four years competition a young man who was born in slavery is to assume that half a generation has been sufficient to raise a colored man to the social, moral, and intellectual level which the average white man has reached in several hundred years. As well might the common farm horse be entered in a four mile race against the best blood inherited from a line of English racers.”25 Schofield’s racism was consistent with the prevailing ethnological thinking of the day, which held that the world’s peoples passed through stages of evolution, from savagery to barbarism, and finally, civilization, before attaining the highest stage of development, epitomized by the Anglo-Saxons (the “English racers”), who were naturally assumed to occupy the top echelon.26
There is no record of any interaction between Hugh Lenox Scott and any of the black cadets who attended West Point with him. Nor did Scott mention any of his black classmates in his letters home, although he did refer derisively in one letter to his mother to the “moke fever” in Congress, by which he meant the supposed political preference for establishing and preserving black army units even as others might be reduced in an expected peace-time reduction of troops. While he was critical of legislative support for the all-black regiments, Scott was attuned—as were Robert Lee Bullard and John J. Pershing after him—to the politics of race in the military and to the possible advantages he might work from it. Part of his calculation about getting a commission in a black regiment, unpopular as it was among his fellow West Pointers, was his belief that it could provide a better chance of promotion and professional advancement for him than joining a white regiment. He made the same calculation about service with Indian scouts soon after arriving in Dakota Territory. In his closing words of justification for his decision to pursue a commission in a Buffalo Soldier regiment such as the Tenth, Scott confided to his mother, “most of the men here will hoot me [for it], but I don’t care so long as I see it is to my advantage.”27 John J. Pershing—whose nickname Black Jack derived from his service with the Tenth Cavalry—shared a similar analysis with his Nebraska friend Assistant Secretary of War George D. Meiklejohn in 1898. Contemplating the best avenues for advancement from the vantage point of eastern Cuba following the war with Spain, Pershing concluded that they lay with command of one of the immune regiments he believed would be organized as an “imperial guard” for America’s new tropical colonies following the war.28
Besides its presumed better prospects for promotion, the Tenth Cavalry had another attraction in its favor, as far as Scott was concerned. Its regimental headquarters were in Texas, and Texas, he had heard, was a “sportsman’s paradise.” There, he could “shoot all year around instead of being cooped up all winter in a little log hut snowed under in Wyoming Territory or else out on a scout 150 miles from home thermometer 15 degrees below zero—I hear accounts of it now and then that sets my teeth on edge.”29 Scott was an avid hunter. From an early age—rather to the consternation of his bookish family—he had spent all his available time outdoors, in the woods, chasing foxes or squirrels or other quarry. Since his mother would not allow him to use a gun until his fifteenth birthday, he hunted with a bow and arrow he had made for himself, with which he accounted himself “extremely skilful.” Besides handling a gun, his passion for hunting helped him develop other “arts of the field” such as swimming, handling a boat, and riding a horse.30
Like the rest of his class, Scott admitted to being “mad for the cavalry.” Capping off his arguments in favor of his preference for a commission in the Tenth Cavalry Buffalo Soldiers, Scott noted that cavalry officers were paid a hundred dollars more a year than infantry. They also got keep for two horses.31 His greatest regret about leaving West Point was having to bid farewell to “his” horse. Cadets drew lots to determine an order for picking a mount for riding drill. Two weeks before graduation, Scott wrote regretfully to his mother that he had only two more rides left with his West Point horse. “I’m going to miss my horse very much—& he will me I guess. Whenever I come out he is looking for me & rubs his nose on my cheek & it is soft as velvet too. If I don’t get out his sugar right away he pushes me till I do. I’m awfully sorry to leave him.”32 By all accounts, Scott was an excellent horseman. He was more sentimental about horses than he was about most people. He could remember and relate details of the appearance and temperament of horses he had owned or ridden half a century earlier. In the frontier army, Scott also became adept at handling mule teams, which were essential for transport, communication, and the provisioning of troops in the field.
Scott graduated from West Point on June 14, 1876. General William Tecumseh Sherman presented the diplomas to his class. At graduation Scott stood thirty-sixth in a class of forty-eight. He was assigned to the Ninth Cavalry, the other Buffalo Soldier regiment. He paid little attention to the commencement orations of the day, little suspecting that he would return many times to take part in commencement exercises in later years as a speaker himself, includ ing during his tenure as superintendent of the academy from 1906 to 1910. Instead, newly commissioned Second Lieutenant Scott was intent on getting home to Princeton to make the most of the leave granted to him before reporting to the Arizona border when his orders came.33
Besides visiting friends and family in Princeton, Scott had been looking forward to attending the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. With his brother William, then a student at Princeton, Scott traveled to the nation’s first capital to witness the celebration of its first hundred years of independence. Out of a population of some forty-two million, an estimated eight million attended the Exposition between May and October of 1876.
The exposition