Lucky Spurs at the United States Military Academy
Real Places Behind THE QUEST OF KIP SAUNDERS
If a cadet is struggling academically at West Point, tradition has it that at midnight on the night before an exam, he can dress in full dress uniform under arms and high-tail it across The Plain to Trophy Point, where the statue of General John Sedgwick stands. Once there, the cadet spins the free-moving rowels of the spurs on the general’s boots for good luck.
There are several dangers associated with this tradition.
One is that military police patrol the area, looking for cadets outside their barracks after Taps. The punishment, depending on the cadet’s company tactical officer, might amount to a few demerits—or, if the tactical officer is particularly strict, several hours on a Saturday walking the Area.
A second danger is more practical: a cadet desperate enough to seek the help of a bronze general might be better off spending that time studying rather than galloping across campus trying to evade the military police.
I, like Kip in THE QUEST OF KIP SAUNDERS, spun Sedgwick’s spurs once. And like Kip, I did it because I was desperate to pass a physics exam.
I am happy to report that the statue—sometimes called “The Guardian of the Goats”—came through for me.
I passed.
That accomplishment was all the more remarkable considering that during the exam I took a bathroom break in Mahan Hall, sat down for a moment, and somehow fell asleep for about ten minutes. I had pulled an all-nighter studying and was dog-tired. When I awoke, I hurried back to finish the exam, probably with drool still running down my cheek.
Apparently, General Sedgwick’s lucky spurs were stronger than my study habits.
John Sedgwick, a West Point graduate of the Class of 1837, became a major general in the Union Army during the Civil War. He has the distinction of being the highest-ranking Union officer killed in action during the conflict. More telling, perhaps, is how much his soldiers admired him. The men of the Sixth Corps affectionately called their commander “Uncle John.”
Sedgwick was killed at the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House on May 9, 1864. As Confederate sharpshooters fired from a distance, he reportedly encouraged his men by telling them the enemy “couldn’t hit an elephant at this distance.”
Moments later, a bullet struck him beneath the left eye.
He was wrong.
After the war, veterans of the Sixth Corps honored their former commander by dedicating the statue that now stands at Trophy Point. Tradition holds that the bronze was cast from Confederate cannons captured by his men.
For generations of cadets, Sedgwick’s statue has been associated with a wonderfully quirky West Point tradition. I certainly wasn’t thinking about leadership, loyalty, or the Civil War when I raced out there hoping a quick spin of a bronze spur might rescue me from a physics exam.
Neither is Kip when he visits Sedgwick in THE QUEST OF KIP SAUNDERS. He wants the same thing I wanted: a little luck.
Looking back, though, I find something more interesting than the superstition. Sedgwick’s soldiers respected their commander so deeply that, after surviving a devastating war, they chose to memorialize him at West Point.
I went to Sedgwick’s statue looking for luck.
Years later, I realize the more enduring story is the man wearing the spurs.
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