Last in Their Class. James Robbins
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Rock, a granite outcropping that had been the scene of late-night happenings since before the Academy existed, when Native Americans gathered there to dance and tell stories by firelight.
These activities did not go unnoticed. The cadets’ primary nemesis was Quartermaster Sergeant Owens, or as they called him, “Bum.” He was a “bombardier,” a member of the artillery company posted at West Point, whose nightly duty was to watch the South Gate and generally to make life miserable for the more enterprising souls in the Corps. He spent decades at the task and came to know all the cadet haunts and escape routes. Owens kept at his task stubbornly, and sometimes he “skinned” the cadets with a sense of humor. On one occasion he fashioned a dummy to look like the Superintendent and placed it at a landing spot on the river where he knew a large group of cadets would be returning from Benny Havens’. The sixteen shipmates panicked when they saw what they thought was the Supe and rowed quickly away, switching to a route up the cliffs and overland to the barracks, where they were met by Tacs whom Owens had alerted.
“Bum” was responsible for having Benny Havens banned from the post after reporting several of his riverborne excursions. Old Ben accepted his banishment; but Owens went too far when Mrs. Havens, who was traveling up the Hudson by riverboat, landed at West Point and attempted to cross the post to get home. Owens detained her and had his men row her across the river to Constitution Island, over her strong protests. She was later rescued by friends, but a few days later Benny ran across Owens in Cold Spring and beat him severely. Owens sued and was awarded five hundred dollars, which nearly drove Benny Havens out of business. Naturally, the cadets did not approve of Bum’s efforts. If they spotted him at a distance in the moonlight nearing their position, they would pelt him with rocks. When Owens interrupted a group of masked cadets who had hoisted the reveille cannon to the roof of one of the barracks as a joke, the malefactors grabbed Bum, bound and gagged him, and left him on the roof with the gun. He was also the object of more serious schemes; Cadet Henry Clay Jr., son of the famous politician, was suspended from West Point for, among other things, firing a pistol at Bum Owens.4
The Court Martial of Jefferson Davis
ON THE EVENING OF JULY 31, 1825, during encampment, a massive downpour flooded the Plain. Unable to sleep, their tents a muddy mess, cadets began to wander the post, and a small group made their way south to Benny Havens’. There they dried off and enjoyed the specialties of the house. Meanwhile a formation had been called, and a tactical officer, Captain Ethan Allen Hitchcock, noted their absence. As a former cadet (Class of 1817), he may have had an idea what the group was up to, and he headed for Buttermilk Falls. Hitchcock caught the five wanderers in the act, and Theophilus Mead, James Allison, James F. Swift, Samuel J. Hays and the future Confederate president Jefferson Davis became the first cadets ever to be court-martialed for carousing at Benny Havens’.5
The five cadets were victims of bad timing. Spirits had only recently been banned at West Point, the result of a raucous Independence Day celebration that same year. There was a cadet tradition to host a July Fourth dinner for the officers and faculty. Alcohol flowed, and the feasts usually degenerated into some form of excitement. In 1825, the dinner was “more than usually joyous” and late in the evening the cadets carried Major William J. “Haughty Bill” Worth, the Commandant of Cadets, to camp on their shoulders. Thayer, who made it a point to be absent on July 4 to maintain plausible deniability, finally put his foot down and banned the dinners, and also the consumption of intoxicating beverages on the post. Cadet Davis and the others were charged with two specifications of the new regulation, namely, “drinking spirituous and intoxicating liquor” and “going to a public house or place where spirituous liquors are sold,” as well as leaving post without permission.
Davis, who was then eighteen years old and had just completed his plebe year, defended himself with the skill of a natural legal mind. He first questioned the legitimacy of the charges, since the new regulations had not been communicated to the Corps, and “isolated as we are from the rest of the world,” such orders could not be considered valid. Nor, he said, were they even given a chance to obey them, in their ignorance. He pleaded guilty to the charge of leaving the post, which was a well-known provision of regulations, but noted the special circumstances—the flooding rain, the sounding of the dispersion bugle, and general confusion over what was required. In seeking shelter, he and his comrades “thus urged by circumstances without premeditation wandered too far.”
Davis decried the “weak evidence” that had been put before the court, especially on a charge “so contrary to the principles of a soldier and man of honor.” He pointed out that Hitchcock had not witnessed him in the act of drinking—and if he was behaving like a man who was intoxicated, it was due to the embarrassment of being caught, “which was certainly enough to have confused any cadet.” Davis denied that the regulation even covered Benny Havens’, saying that it depends on what the definition of “public house” is. Furthermore, he questioned the logic of a literal interpretation of the rule against being where spirits are sold, since, as he pointed out, the stores on post sold liquors and the cadets were clearly permitted there. He also argued that wine and beer could not rightly be called “spirituous liquors,” just to be on the safe side.
Davis’s clever wordplay did not impress the court. He was found guilty of all charges and specifications, and sentenced to be dismissed. However, the court added “in consideration of his former good conduct [it] respectfully recommend the remission of said sentence.” Hays was also recommended for clemency, and both he and Davis were pardoned and reinstated. Mead and Allison were dismissed. Swift was acquitted outright. He was the son of General Joseph G. Swift, the first graduate of the Military Academy, former Commandant of the Corps of Engineers, former Superintendent, and at the time the chief revenue officer for the Port of New York. Cadet Swift might have learned a lesson from his near escape, but instead he was emboldened, and after another court martial in September he was expelled. Hays may have owed his lenient treatment to the fact that he was the nephew and ward of Andrew Jackson. He too had difficulties adjusting to cadet life, and in the spring of 1826 he went AWOL. Of all the Benny Havens’ Five, only Jefferson Davis graduated.
In January and February 1826, and again in September and October, Davis was “distinguished for correct conduct,” a recognition given to cadets who had no disciplinary infractions for a given month. Davis’s disciplinary record in general was above average. He was promoted to sergeant of the Color Guard, and was for the most part behaving himself. But he soon became involved in one of the most notorious episodes in West Point history, the Eggnog Mutiny of 1826.
Christmas Eve had traditionally been a time when cadets would gather for festivities, usually involving alcohol and frequently overlooked by the authorities, if done in moderation. Even given the climate of Thayer’s anti-alcohol crackdown, some cadets planned an evening of frolic. On the nights leading up to the party, emissaries were sent to Benny Havens’ to provision, acquiring perhaps a gallon of spirits or more. One cadet, allegedly William Burmley, bribed a sentinel at the public wharf for the use of a boat to fetch the necessary supplies. Eggnog was prepared, and on the 24th, the cadets gathered to greet the Christmas holiday in the traditional way.
The celebration commenced in the evening and gathered steam as it went. Eventually the revelry attracted the attention of Captain Hitchcock, who went to room number 5 in North Barracks and listened at the door for a few minutes before bursting in on the party in progress. The two candles in the room were quickly extinguished and some cadets ducked out in the darkness. Hitchcock was about to break up the crowd when Davis, who had gotten wind of the Tac’s interest but did not know he was already there, rushed into the room saying, “Put away the grog boys, Old Hitch is coming!” Hitchcock immediately placed Davis under arrest and confined him to his room. Davis complied, and Hitchcock ordered the revelers to disperse. The partygoers wandered off, and after inspecting the room, Hitchcock returned to his quarters.
A few minutes later there was shouting in the barracks. Pieces of wood were thrown against Hitchcock’s door and stones rained against his windows, breaking most of the panes. A drum started beating in the guardroom, where Hitchcock found Cadet Lucien Bibb, one of the cadets from number 5, who had just broken the drumhead. He ordered Bibb to go to his room under arrest. Hitchcock went back out into the hallway and was met with a fusillade of firewood. He took