DARTMOUTH TWO YEARS PRECEDING THE CIVIL WAR

The following is the first of several brief articles to appear in the MAGAZINE from time to time from the pen of John Scales '63. In these articles Mr. Scales will tell of the College during early Civil War days and record events and people Who have nearly passed from the memories of the present Dartmouth generation. Editor.

I prepared for college at New London, now Colby Academy, from which I graduated in the class of 1859, having completed the scheduled course of four years in two years. While there we used to hold mock courts, in the boarding house, called Colby Hall, at which I presided, hence the students gave me the pseudonym "Judge" Scales. Several members of my class entered Dartmouth when I did; they kept on calling me "Judge." From that the upper classes soon adopted the same title, and the name stuck to me all through college. Even now the surviving classmates use the old time title, in letters.

The day after graduation at New London four of us started for Hanover, walking the 20 miles in good time, so the first I saw of Dartmouth was at the summit of the hill at the south end of the ridge, then called "Prexy's Garden," consisting of a few patches of grass scattered among many acres of boulders. I learned the locality was so named from a joke on the trustees to show how generously they treated President Lord. Has the name become obsolete? Maybe President Hopkins is yet possessor of the facetious honor.

tionally, we investigated the village, in general. What did we see? To our bucolic vision, everything seemed beautiful. The hills and mountains then seemed just as lovely as they do now. We looked with admiration at four college buildings, —Dartmouth, Thornton, Wentworth and Reed Halls. Of Dartmouth we now see a facsimile, in its exterior; the others are just as they were during my four years, except in the interior arrangements. In my freshman and sophomore years I had a room in the hall at the south of Dartmouth; in my junior and senior years I had a room in Reed Hall. The observatory was but recently completed, and the hill leading to it had been graded in 1858. There were no bathrooms, each man had his lavatory in his room. Having completed our examination for admission to enter college, unconditionally

The Campus was then surrounded with a rail fence; only a few lengths of it now remain, on the west side; on three sides, north, east and south, were beautiful and large maple trees; not one is now left. In the center of the Campus was a tall, double deck, flag-staff. The paths were as now, and on the north side of the path, as entered from Reed Hall, was the well, which supplied all the students, in adjacent rooms, with water for all purposes. The pump in the well also supplied the water that sophomores used in disciplining unruly freshmen, in the "hazing" period, then fashionable.

The territory on the north of the Campus was then occupied by private dwellings; only one of the lot now remains, the so-called "Leeds" house. In my time is was the residence of Prof. W. A. Packard, who gave us instruction in French and German. Rev. Dr. Leeds, whose name it now bears, was the parish and college minister; he and Mrs. Leeds resided in Frary's Hotel, a small establishment, now the place oif the spacious and beautiful, Hanover linn. Dr. Leeds was installed soon after I became freshman. In the later years of his ministry he came to reside in the house now in question, and it remained to be his home as long as he lived.

In my time President Lord resided in the house that stood on the east of the Leeds' house. It was there I went and received my admission paper, and a copy of the "Freshman's Bible," the socalled rules of the College. Its name is said to have been derived from the incident that a freshman, in preceding time was made to believe that the President really was accustomed to give a present of a copy of the Bible, when asked to do so; when he applied for one President Lord gave him a copy of the college laws, and politely informed the applicant it was not the rule to give a Bible, though it would be a very good rule.

The Campus was the athletic field of the College during the years I was there, and was the scene of many interesting events. When Dartmouth Hall was built it is said that some of the large timbers in its frame were hewn from pine trees that then stood on this ground; the work of hewing a log was an art highly prized; the workman who could do it rapidly and skillfully always commanded high wages. He snapped a chalk-line from end to end of the log; then scored in to the line with a common axe; then hewed off the chips with his broad-axe, exactly even with the line, making it as straight as if sawn in the mill, and as smooth and even as run over by a plane. Such men were called "carpenters"; those who did the finer work—making joints—were called "joiners" that is they did the framing of the building, and were really the architects who made the plans. My grandfather's grandfather was always known as "Joiner Scales" (1718-1796), because he was an expert house-builder and furniture maker.

In my sophomore year, as I was witnessing a football game an unexpected visitor spoke to me, inquiring my name. He introduced himself as Rev. Jacob Scales, of Plainfield, and a graduate of Dartmouth in the class of 1817. He was an entire stranger to me. In the course of our conversation he said that when he entered college in 1813 there were stumps of huge pine trees in the Campus that his class helped finish the job of pulling them up and placing them along a lane called "Stump-Lane." Strange to say some of these stumps were standing along a lane, which was known as Stump Lane all the time I was in college. I don't know how much longer. Following Mr. Scales' name in the catalogue is the statement: "A.M.; And. Theol. Sem., 1820. Phi Beta Kappa; b. 7 Mar. 1788 Freeport, Me. Minister, and. 16 Oct. 1873, Plainfield,. N. H." I judge he made correct statements regarding the stumps.

The exercise of the students was confined to sawing cord wood to keep their fires burning as each room had its stove, playing football on the Campus and the performance of various gymnastics at the "Freshmen's Gallows." The latter was on the level ground at the eastward of the Bema. It consisted of two posts standing seven or eight feet apart with notches in the side. In these was placed a bar of suitable size to grasp with the hands, in exercise, also to be placed for tests for running and jumping. It received its name from the custom in vogue by sophomores of disciplining freshmen, as a last resort, by tying their hands and feet, and rolling them down over the hill, from the vicinity of the Old Pine. It was a terror to the under class men.

Football, as now known and played was not dreamed of at Dartmouth in my time. In one respect it was much better since everybody participated and had good exercise. Now only a few play while the rest sit and look on. It was the unwritten law for the Freshmen to supply the balls for all games. Our class was informed of this law immediately after a chapel service, by the Sophomores. As soon as they got out doors they shouted long and loud:—"Football Freshmen! Football Freshmen!" They were informed that the balls would soon be furnished. A class meeting was called; a committee was appointed to procure the balls, and most of all to properly guard them from being surreptitiously stolen by the upper class men, as was one of the favorite tricks of the time.

As then played the game consisted in having the freshman captain start the game by kicking the ball from the vicinity of the flag-staff toward Dartmouth' Hall and get it over the fence into the street. The opponents were to drive it in the opposite direction and win the game by getting it over the fence on the west side of the Campus. So the game carried the ball in all directions, and was very lively, and at times very amusing. One of the tricks the Sophomores always tried to play on the Freshmen was to steal the ball at the close of the game, or cut it so it could not be mended. For that reason the Freshmen usually started the season fall term with a supply of a dozen balls.

The Sophs came out in full force, in front of Dartmouth Hall and shouted:— "Football, Freshmen! Old Division!" Captain Foster immediately brought forth the coveted rubber, plump with air and shining with the gloss of the factory. Soon the Freshmen were out on the Campus and the game was on. The warning would be shouted from the field :—"Freshmen on warning! No bounding! No picking up!" In our class Sidney True was usually the man who gave the warning, Burr was regarded as our expert to toe the ball, and in a jam of men, struggling for the ball, Hitchcock was relied upon to squirm his way into the mass, squirm out again, and run with the ball. He would manage to get in where no other fellow would find an entrance, and he was as nimble and slippery as an eel. Cummings, Hamilton, Cogswell, Peaslee and Burnap were specialists in every tussle to save the ball from opponents, or to secure it when the opposing side seemed likely to win.

The game was called by various names. "Old Division" was the combination of Freshmen and Juniors to play against Sophomores and Seniors. Another combination was, "Socials against Fraters," the two literary societies. Half of my class belonged to the Socials, the other half to the Fraters. So these contest games were not matters of classes, no society being permitted to have more than half of any one class. Another football combination was :—"New Hampshire against the World, Medics Off!" In this game the New Hampshire students played against all those from other States. Generally the call was for "Old Division."

Foster, Clement and Abbott were very successful in keeping guard over the balls, so that at the end of Freshman year there were several left of the original dozen purchased. These were sold to the committee of the class of '64. This committee did not exercise so much vigilance in taking care of their class balls, hence they soon came to grief. In the darkness and silence of one night, some of our wicked Sophs entered the depository of the balls and captured the whole lot. The next day the '64 men held a meeting and listened to the report of the football committee; they were all fighting mad, and while denunciatory speeches were being delivered against '63, Burr of our class appeared on the scene, and asked permission of the president to address the meeting, which being granted he delivered a flowery speech, sternly condemning the outrage of stealing the balls. He told them how the wicked Junior class had attempted to steal footballs from our class, when we were Freshmen, and in closing his speech he demonstrated that beyond question those same fellows of '62 were the guilty party that did the purloining from the class of '64. Burr's fine speech completely pacified the '64 men, so they ordered a new lot of footballs. After the season was well along our men had again captured the whole lot of footballs; the '64 men vowed they would not furnish any more for the games. A committee of '63 informed them they must do so, as that was the unwritten law of the college. If they failed it would be dangerous for any Freshman to appear out of his room after dark. If one should be caught out he would surely be held under the college pump, and if that remedy failed he would be taken to the Freshman's Gallows and rolled down the hill, from the Old Pine to the gymnastic poles. So there was a reign of terror among the '64 men for a while; then they concluded to surrender, and brought out the footballs on the call:—Old Division!

Of course there was not so much science displayed in playing those old time football games, at Dartmouth, as in those of the 20th century, but there was really more genuine fun as every man was privileged to take part. Not all did take part, but some found much pleasure in sitting on the fence and joining in the cheering for his side, when victory was won, or when the coveted ball was captured from the owners, after the game was over. Moreover it was a safer game; no one ever was injured in the playing.