Thayer required cadets to demonstrate mastery of each lesson every day by “taking boards,” writing answers to problems on chalkboards that ringed the classrooms and briefing the answers to the rest of the class. In the “Thayer System,” every cadet would recite in every subject every day. Since the West Point curriculum was dominated by mathematics and the sciences (history, for example, was first eliminated from study in 1825, as was geography, and both had to stage several comebacks), the system was easily implemented. Sections were kept small, no more than twenty, to facilitate the individual attention required for every cadet. It was not an educational environment that favored slackers, and Cadet Hunter quickly developed the habits necessary to survive. “I have never in my life studied half so attentively (so hard as we would say in Georgia) as I have for the last week. I can hardly see my eyes are so weak and sore. . . . I think very probably I shall hold a very respectable standing in my class if I apply myself as I ought.”
Plebes studied two subjects, French and mathematics. Knowledge of French was critical since many of the most advanced treatises in the sciences and in military thought were written in that language. As one period report noted, it was a “universal opinion” that the French “have been much more successful and happy in their investigations and explanations of the sciences generally, and of that of war in particular, than those of any other nation.”6 Thayer also had assigned some of the same books he had studied in France, such as Devernon’s Treatise on the Science of War, written in 1805. Members of the first class had to buy copies for $20, a huge sum at the time for the cadets, whose monthly pay was $16. By Wyche’s time, the Academy library had over ten thousand volumes, many in French, and was then the finest technical library in the country. Wyche lamented, “Had I studied French and mathematics I should have been enabled to stand near the head but as it is I shall stand near the foot. You have no idea what smart fellows we have here.” The cadets were taught technical, not conversational French, with an emphasis on practicality. Mr. Molinard, one of the instructors, gave a characteristically simple rule for the usage of the articles de and du. “‘Why gentlemen this is very easy. I will give you a rule by which you can always tell when to use de and when to use du.’ He paused. ‘Sometimes we use de and sometimes we use du.’”
In the second or “yearling” year, cadets continued studying math and French and added drawing. It was imperative for officers to be able to draw well in order to make their own maps and tactical plans in the field. Thomas Gimbrede, the professor of drawing, was “an amiable old gentleman” whose “fundamental proposition was in these words: Every one can learn to draw. His proof: there are only two lines in drawing, the straight line and the curve line. Everyone can draw a straight line—and everyone can drawn a curve line—therefore everyone can draw.”7 The third or “cow” year curriculum included experimental philosophy (today called physics), electricity, optics, astronomy, chemistry and topographical drawing. “Firsties” studied engineering, the science of war, rhetoric and grammar, moral philosophy and national law. Throughout their four years, cadets also received instruction in infantry tactics, ordnance and gunnery, cavalry, marksmanship, swordplay, strategy and, of course, drill.
Cadets were ranked in order of merit, and the standings, while not public information, always became known. The section groupings in each class gave much of the list away, and cadet competitiveness filled in the rest. Despite the rivalry implicit in academic ranking, teamwork was an important part of the cadet survival system. Lessons were divided up and answers copied and memorized. Drawings were traced using a system of candles and glass plates, over which the original and a blank sheet were laid. Cadets also came to know the habits of professors, specifically the order in which they would call upon certain cadets to answer questions, and were frequently successful in gaming which problem they might be asked to diagram. If it was generally known that an instructor was tolerably predictable, Thayer might suddenly appear during class and change the sequence of questions, causing a degree of mental panic in the classroom.
The January examination in the plebe year was the first academic winnowing the cadets faced. They were grilled by instructors in front of the faculty, in a process that was intended to intimidate, and did. As he prepared for his first January exam, Wyche wrote: “Should a Professor moved by motive of ill will or any thing of the kind give you the examination such demonstrates as he knows from your former recitations that you have paid no attention to or are too trivial to be noticed, what will hinder you from appearing in the estimation of those who have never heard you before as a numskull?” Those who were deficient (“found,” in cadet parlance) were dismissed. They were loaded into sleighs and taken over the hills away from the Academy, past a point of no return known as Goshen. The June exams were even more rigorous, held before the entire Board of Visitors, the assistant professors and the Superintendent, who scrupulously inspected every cadet. Those who ranked at the head of the class were questioned for ninety minutes or so; those with lower rankings were examined for as long as it took to remove all doubt. Final cadet rankings were the result of long deliberations. The top five in each class were given the honorific “distinguished cadet,” and were frequently called upon to serve as instructors, which, since it was added to their normal cadet duties, was a mixed honor. Those who failed were either turned back to repeat a year, or dismissed. The casualty rates were high. Of the 100 cadets admitted to the Class of 1828, for example, 93 were left to take the January examination; 73 passed, and of them 51 made it through the end of plebe year.
The Academy’s first Goat was John Taylor Pratt of the Class of 1818, which was the first class with academic rankings.8 Pratt came to West Point in 1814, after already achieving distinction with the Kentucky Cavalry at the Battle of the Thames in Ontario, Canada, under William Henry Harrison. He arrived out of the West on horseback with fellow cadets Billy Johnson, who was Harrison’s nephew, and John Payne. The three rustic westerners excited much comment and wonder among the cadets, Kentucky at the time being regarded by most in the East as an untamed wilderness. Johnson later left West Point, and Payne was sent home after a twelve-pounder gun he was manning during a salute went off prematurely, taking his arm in the process. Pratt remained, and became romantically involved with Eliza Kinsley, sister of fellow cadet Zebina J. D. Kinsley, whose family lived on a rocky hill near the Academy still known as “Stoneylonesome.” He had a formidable rival for her affections in Lieutenant George W. Gardiner, the Commandant of Cadets, who for his small stature and martial spirit was known as “the Little God of War.” The competition eventually came to a head when Pratt confronted Gardiner in his office. The infuriated Commandant grabbed a pair of fire tongs, wrapped them around Pratt’s neck and twisted them to the point where he could not remove them. Neither man was punished for the altercation, and in the end Eliza went back to Kentucky with Pratt.
Academic excellence was one pillar of Thayer’s system; discipline was another. Thayer was a strict though not harsh disciplinarian who led by example. He pursued an orderly life and his behavior was impeccable. He was an early riser, and cadets frequently saw him on his morning walk as reveille was blowing, properly attired and soberly comported. He took an active interest in the moral development of every cadet and would occasionally meet with them privately if he felt they needed additional guidance. Though personally warm and engaging, he was very strict in his dealings with cadets and showed no preference. Smith said, “It was useless to attempt to awaken tender emotions in him. He was not without feeling but he never displayed it in his office. . . . No cadet entered without a sentiment of awe, or left without a feeling of relief.”
The practical expression of Thayer’s emphasis on discipline was the famous West Point demerit system. It arose from necessity; before demerits, politically well-connected cadets whom Thayer tried to expel for disciplinary violations were sometimes