them, we should have to take up the game which is misnamed "rugby." 

 This would be swapping horses in mid-stream with a vengeance, but 

 we did it. At the mass meeting of the students, called to consider the 

 question, I made a speech advocating the change and felt very heroic 

 and magnaminous in so doing, for I knew that such action would put 

 an end to my football career. Of course, there was no time to organize 

 a brand-new team that should amount to anything and, needless to 

 say, we lost both games. But in the following year (1877) we beat 

 Harvard and in '78 Yale. 



The autumn and winter of 1876 were agitated by the Hayes-Tilden 

 presidential campaign and the disputed election; at times, feeling rose 

 to fever heat and made many people apprehensive of another civil war. 

 I was a rabid Republican and thought that the election of Tilden would 

 be an irreparable calamity, jeopardizing all the results so hardly won 

 in the war. I had no belief in the charges of inefficiency and corruption 

 brought against General Grant's administration, and thought that the 

 Sun's daily reiterated slogan of "turn the rascals out" was mere 

 political claptrap. Nor had I any real conception of the horrors of recon- 

 struction and the "carpetbag" governments in the South. Partisan feel- 

 ing among the students ran very high, though never, to my knowledge, 

 leading to the rupture of friendships. We had torchlight processions, 

 speeches and bonfires galore, bitter words passed between Northerners 

 and Southerners, but, when the decision was finally reached in Febru- 

 ary, every one acquiesced and calm succeeded the storm. 



One of the advantages of the Halls in that period of their vigorous 

 life, was that they brought together on equal footing men of all classes 

 and I formed durable friendships with members of the Class of '78 and 

 of '79. In '78 Harry Marquand, Percy Pyne, and WilHam Dulles, and 

 in '79 Woodrow Wilson, Cleve Dodge, and Robert Bridges are the 

 names that stand out in my memory as companions of those days. Of 

 all that choice company. Bridges is the only one who remains. 



In the winter '77-'78, Bishop John Johns of Virginia came to visit 

 my Grandfather, like him a member of the Class of 1815. It was 

 delightful to witness the meeting of these long-separated friends, who 

 had taken opposite sides in the Civil War, but without any diminution 

 of their mutual love. The two old boys chaffed and ragged each other 

 mercilessly and, though I remember that fact very distinctly, I can recall 

 but a single incident. It was in my Grandfather's study one day, when 

 the venerable pair came in from a walk. The Bishop took off his cloak 

 and hung it over the back of a chair and, after a time, my Grandfather 



