THE YEARS between the resumption of the Andover-Exeter rivalry and the end of World War I witnessed the modernization of athletics and physical education at Phillips Academy. During that period the physical facilities were either upgraded or replaced by new ones at least adequate to support the expanding program temporarily. Moreover, the Administration and Faculty, now more closely attuned to the relationship between sports and student morale, assumed a more positive role in directing and controlling the part athletics should play in the life of the school, both by coaching and officiating themselves and by serving on committees concerned with the governing and financing of the program. At the same time student influence remained strong but became more responsive to the scholastic and ethical priorities which the school demanded. With a few notable exceptions, by 1920 the pattern for the future had been established.

Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that on 23 June 1896, the old Brick Academy, which had served as a gymnasium for thirty years, was gutted by fire. The building had been a bone of contention from the beginning: the space was inadequate to carry on at the same time the various activities in which the students were interested; the apparatus was minimal and usually out of order, the Trustees being forced periodically to make niggardly contributions to keep it barely operable; and there were no bathing or showering facilities on the campus in this or any other building owned by the academy. As early as 1885 ominous rumblings of discontent prompted the Phillipian to start a gymnasium fund, but money was slow to accumulate. At the June meeting of the Trustees in 1889, Alpheus Hardy, who had succeeded his father on the Board, reported that he had received several communications from the Faculty deploring the unsanitary conditions which existed throughout the entire school and particularly in the gymnasium.(1) In early June of 1891, two years later, an alumni committee for the new gymnasium met in the Tremont House in Boston to help the students, who a month earlier at a school meeting had taken matters into their own hands by pledging over $1500 to a gymnasium fund. Unfortunately the Athletic Association that year, desperate to provide temporary relief, used the money and $300 more to build the track house on the Upper Campus, which formally opened in February of 1892. Three years later the Trustees ordered the Treasurer to charge off the debt of the Athletic House on the upper field, but refused to assume any responsibility for future operating expenses.(2)

Since it was undesirable to restore the gutted Brick Academy for further use as a gymnasium, the only practical recourse for the administration was to make an effort to raise money for a new facility. Under the leadership of Principal Bancroft and Treasurer Hardy $50,000 was raised over the next few years, the most generous gift of $20,000 coming from Matthew C. Borden, a Fall River manufacturer and a member of the Class of 1860.(3) In June of 1899 the Trustees voted "that the matter of the new gymnasium subscriptions for which is [sic] nearly completed be entrusted to the Real Estate Committee."(4) Ground was broken in May 1900, and the new Borden Gymnasium was officially opened 22 March 1902. It had been a long time for the students to wait, but their patience had been rewarded with what Judge Bishop, the President of the Board of Trustees, described as "the finest and most complete gymnasium possessed by any secondary school in the country."(5) At last the athletes had a suitable place for exercise, recreation, and bathing.

The students themselves, although delighted with the new building, were not yet completely satisfied; no indoor facility without a swimming pool was totally adequate, and in 1909 they undertook to remedy the deficiency by raising funds for the erection of a large addition to the rear of the new gym which would house a swimming tank. The Trustees, while not disapproving of the plan, advised the boys that because of the task then before them of raising the large fund necessary to pay for the Seminary property they would be unable at that time to help with the project and were also unwilling to have the alumni of the school approached when the larger and more important problem confronted them.(6) Convinced that they could raise the required amount, estimated at $50,000, from among their parents and friends, the students formed a committee of fifty subdivided into class units and by the end of that year had received pledges of $32,075. By 1910 all but $17,000 had been turned over to the treasurer of the fund, Augustus P. Thompson, P.A. 1892. Under the guidance of Dr. Page, the Physical Director, the boys finally raised $15,000 in cash by May 1911. Since the original estimate of the cost had dropped to $25,000, the Trustees advanced the additional $10,000 to the Athletic Association, and the project was started in May 1911; the beautiful new pool was formally opened on 2 December of that year. The cost approximated $30,000.

Another major improvement in the physical plant also occurred at the turn of the century. The main playing field on the Old Campus, used for both football and baseball for over half a century, was another source of continuous student complaint. Attempts to keep grass on the surface were useless since the students walked on it daily on their way from their dormitories to class. Nevertheless, the Trustees every other year in the spring appropriated sums of money to "sod the diamond." By 1899 the situation had become so critical that in March of that year a meeting took place in Room 9 of the Academy Building, open to all those who wished to see new fields built, preferably on the Upper Campus, southeast of the Academy. Archibald Freeman, the faculty Chairman of the Athletic Advisory Board, spoke to the questions of site location and costs of grading and financing, which would amount to $1,000 now and an additional $1,200 later. He also stated that ground would soon be broken for a new dormitory and a new gym. The committee to take charge of the field project was headed by Mr. Stearns. Noised around the campus, the news aroused great enthusiasm and elicited contributions amounting to $1,400 by the following November.

The real windfall came, however, six months later: on 30 May 1900, George Mason Knapp, a new trustee, offered to "purchase an athletic field for Phillips Academy, the academy to pay during the life of himself and Mrs. Knapp interest at the rate of 4% upon said sum.(7) A letter to the Board from Mr. Knapp at the December meeting of 1900 stated that: "In order that land be secured for use by the students of Phillips Academy for athletic purposes... I hereby offer to give for that purpose $7,650." The Treasurer of the Academy was to pay him and his wife $150 in June and a like amount in December as long as they lived. The Trustees voted to accept the proposal and authorized the purchase of the land to be known as "Brothers Field" in accordance with Mr. Knapp's desire "to associate with himself in this gift the memory of his late brother, Arthur Mason Knapp, sometime a teacher in the academy.(8) In July 1901, Henry Morgan pledged $3,000 to the new athletic field fund, at which point Mr. Knapp offered to purchase the remaining unsold land in the area. The offer was accepted with thanks by the Trustees, who then authorized an advance of $8,000 to the Athletic Association to complete the project.(9) Some twenty-five acres were secured to the east of Highland Road and south of Salem Street. Although it was lowland and wet, adequate drainage was provided for in the construction contract; the field was completed in time for Commencement 1903, which coincided with the 125th Anniversary of the school. At the dedication ceremony, Mr. Knapp, after having paid tribute to the value of athletics and "healthful, manly sports," stated:

It is because my brother and I were more than brothers---good comrades---and, until four years ago, almost inseparable companions, that I have associated myself with him in the name that I have chosen, The Brothers Field.

May it be prophetic of the fraternal spirit that shall prevail in all contests on the field.

It was curiously ironic that the first baseball game to be played on the new field against the Brown Varsity that day had to be cancelled because of "wet grounds." In retrospect, the generosity of George Knapp, Matthew Borden, and others had really shifted the focus of Andover athletics from the northwest to the southeast corner of the campus. The core of the school would follow shortly thereafter with the purchase of the Seminary property in 1908.

One of the most momentous decisions for the future of athletics at Phillips Academy was Principal Cecil F. P. Bancroft's hiring of his nephew Alfred E. Stearns in the summer of 1897 to serve in a variety of capacities including director of athletics. A scholar athlete of the first magnitude during his years at Andover, Al had gone on to greater academic and athletic achievements at Amherst. For three years after graduation he had taught at the Hill School in Pottsdown, Pennsylvania, and had enjoyed great success there in running that school's athletic program. Having suffered the bitterness of spirit caused by the suspension of the Exeter athletic rivalry for the past three years and having had to endure the concomitant highly unsatisfactory handling of the finances of the Athletic Association year after year, Dr. Bancroft, in the early spring of 1897, depicted the sorry state of affairs at Andover in a letter to his nephew.

The Graduate Treasurer of the A. A. has reported a legacy of unpaid bills, an inability to determine the total cost of athletics from one year to the next, and the failure of one department to support itself at all. Mr. Ripley has appealed to all the managers to clear up all back accounts, and urged the entire school to contribute its full share toward the maintenance of all branches of athletics.

He then inquired about Alfred's future plans, at the same time offering him an opportunity to join the Phillips Academy staff in the fall. (10)

Al's reply to his uncle, written weeks later, is revealing. Apparently he had been physically ill all winter and so mentally depressed that he had almost discarded his plans to go to divinity school the following year:

The doctor whom I consulted in Philadelphia assures me that my trouble has been due to lack of out of doors exercise and excessive meat eating. This has made it possible for my blood to get in bad condition, and as I have worried a good deal about my self, I have aggravated my complaints and gotten my self into a pretty poor condition.(11)

Now, having fully recovered, he was intrigued by his uncle's offer. He could certainly get all the exercise he needed in coaching the boys to "lower the colors of all rivals. "(12) Certainly the Andover climate would be more favorable to his health than that of Pennsylvania. He would also have the opportunity to attend the Theological Seminary, which carried with it the advantage of calling at Abbot Academy instead of having "to carry on a sign flirtation over the back stone wall of the old K.O.A. yard. Certainly that is a privilege not to be despised. (13)

Another exchange of letters followed within a week, and Al's answer to his uncle's offer of a job at the Academy for the following year was a tentative acceptance. Of course, as in all important matters, he would have to consult with his mother, whom he adored and whose opinion he valued; but he felt that her opinion on the subject would coincide with his. Since school did not close at The Hill until 16 June, he could not get to Andover to discuss things until the following day. On the other hand, if Principal Bancroft had to have an answer before that time, Al would give him one by early June. He had some concerns about his uncle's overestimation of his value because he was beginning to think of himself as a "has been." Replying to the question of what he wanted at Andover, Al was somewhat puzzled but did offer to devote at least two hours daily to the athletic interests of the school---provided that the boys cared to make use of his services. This much time was absolutely necessary to devote to exercise even if he had to alter his schedule somewhat to do it. On the question of remuneration, Bancroft need not worry. The enjoyment and good will that he would derive from the experience would more than repay him for what little effort he might contribute. He was now in a position financially to get through the Seminary without depending further on his mother, and if he did run short, he could always find some tutoring to do. (14)

What eventually transpired was that Alfred Ernest Stearns returned to Phillips Academy as a student in the Theological Seminary, and as a special assistant to the Headmaster of Phillips Academy in matters athletic. The Phillipian properly hailed him as the first Director of Athletics in the history of the school. His brilliant record at Andover and Amherst, as well as his experience at The Hill, were reviewed. He was to devote his entire time to the development of school teams. It was sincerely hoped that his coming to Andover would serve to brighten hopes for a new gym. Regardless, any new phase of training or in fact anything that he undertook would be given the hearty support of the students and faculty. It was an auspicious start of one of the most significant careers in the history of Phillips Academy.

It was more than coincidence that athletics on the Hill took huge strides forward with the return of Al Stearns to Phillips Academy. He immediately assumed a major role in the acquisition of the new Brothers Field and the Borden Gymnasium. He very quickly caught the imagination and enthusiasm of the students, who were enjoined by the Philllipian to support the football team in its opening game in order to show that "whether or not we are victorious we have perfect confidence in Mr. Stearns and Capt. Elliot." Early in the fall under his leadership the Athletic Advisory Committee got at the problem of the mismanagement of athletic funds, which had for a long time plagued Mr. Ripley, the Graduate Treasurer of the Athletic Association. Annually an Undergraduate Treasurer would be assigned the task of working with the managers of the various athletic teams to help them keep their accounts in order and to forestall extravagances in team management. Mr. H. Saterlee, P. A. 1898, the first appointee, was to report directly to Mr. Ripley. Along similar lines, the football schedule that fall was reduced from fourteen games to ten, a cut which from every point of view was eminently sensible.

More subtly but no less effectively Al's personality and presence had a salutary effect on the entire school community. An academician, aspiring Theologue, and accomplished athlete, he commanded the respect of the students and faculty of both the Academy and the Seminary. As a former member of Philo, the school debating society, he was made an advisor to that organization. He became very active in the affairs of the Society of Inquiry, the school Christian Association, and was eagerly sought after as a speaker at the weekly meetings of the Forum. From these particular vantage points he constantly preached the doctrine of the "Andover spirit" and the tradition of the gentleman-scholar-athlete. Unhappy with the Andoverians' booing the mistakes of the Worcester eleven at the opening game, he pressed the Phillipian editors to decry the practice as "inexcusable, injurious to the reputation of the school, and a manifestation of a small and ungentlemanly spirit which should not exist at Andover." To foster school spirit at games, a cheerleading group was developed for the first time. "A cheering staff with a leader is on hand at all the games and it must be assisted heartily by the entire school." The better to control the movements and actions of the spectators, who tended to break through the roped-off boundaries of the playing fields, he initiated the P.A. Police, an organization of student volunteers who ushered at the games and became an essential part of the Athletic Advisory Board.

A son of Andover and a person of prodigious energy, Alfred Stearns never lacked enthusiasm for his job or the school. In late November 1898, between the Exeter football game, which had ended in a scoreless tie, and the upcoming Lawrenceville game, he wrote a full-page story for the Phillipian vividly describing the glorious exploits of the underdog Andover team of 1888 and their spectacular upset of the Exeter Titans. The legerdemain of Owsley and the two Bliss brothers were featured in the "criss-cross" play which completely fooled the spectators as well as the Exonians. The October issue of the Mirror in 1899 carried Al's essay entitled "Preserve the Old Customs." Its essence was the preservation of one's pride in Andover and a recognition by the Phillips Academy community of its alumni, athletes, and others.(15) Certainly, Alfred E. Stearns was the most enthusiastic and versatile salesman the school had experienced to date.

His entrance into the coaching ranks in the spring of 1898 brought immediate and tangible results in the record of the varsity baseball team, which he coached for the first time. Playing a twenty-game schedule, Andover lost only five games, all to college varsities: Harvard twice, Yale, Williams, and Tufts. Four of the five losses were by one run. On the positive side, there were fifteen wins including a satisfying 8 to 2 thrashing of the Exonians before five thousand spectators. The school most heartily approved of the new addition to the faculty and showed it by presenting him with a loving cup in appreciation of his services to the baseball team. "Mr. Stearns has been an efficient coach, has deprived himself of valuable time and left no stone unturned for the team's improvement. The school cannot appreciate this too much." Al continued his successful coaching of varsity baseball until 1905, when his responsibilities as Principal no longer allowed him that luxury. However, on three separate occasions thereafter he stepped into the breach as head coach---in 1912, with the help of Frank O'Brien, and again in 1914 and 1915. Later in his career Headmaster Stearns would recall how valuable to him were those first three years in his new position at Phillips Academy:

My three years in the Theological Seminary contributed little to the advancement of theology, as my interest centered in the Academy, but they did at least give me a rare opportunity to unearth valuable knowledge of what was happening in the school and the reactions of the undergraduate body. As a coach, with no official connection with the faculty, I was regarded as a friendly confidant and hence was freely given much information that would never have been offered to a member of the faculty. How much this was to mean to me only a year or two later I never suspected. Even though I taught for part of this time classes in Greek History and Latin the fact that I was coaching their baseball teams was enough to convince the boys that at heart at least I was one of them and would not abuse their confidences. And I never did. Incidents that would have sent the faculty into huddles were never divulged. But that does not mean that I did not profit immensely by these revelations in later years.

When I accepted Dr. Bancroft's invitation to come back to Andover I did so at a heavy pecuniary sacrifice. Dr. Meigs of the Hill School where I was then teaching had offered me a salary three times as much as that which Dr. Bancroft suggested. But I was pretty well fed up with the restrictions of a close private school catering almost entirely to the sons of wealthy parents. Andover was in my blood. It was my old school too and its democracy appealed strongly. Further, the chance to secure a post graduate degree which "Banty" strongly endorsed was not to be overlooked as it well might prove of value in later years. So I yielded to the Andover lure; and I never regretted it.

As a coach I was required to handle both the baseball and football teams. With the latter I realized my limitations for though I had played on the Amherst College eleven in my sophomore year I knew that I was anything but an expert in that particular field. Fortunately for me and the team two of Yale's outstanding players of the time, Fred Murphy and Jim Rogers, both old Andover men, were taking post graduate courses at Harvard and they came out to Andover two or three times a week for our football practice and rendered valiant service. In their absence I merely undertook to carry out their suggestions and follow their advice. As a result we developed some of the strongest teams in the school's history.

In baseball I felt pretty much at home. And my work was made all the more exciting because of the exceptionally fine material at my disposal. In those early years the annual turnover in the student body ran, as high as seventy per cent. That meant that the large majority of our boys came to us for the last one or two years only and hence were far more mature than the average school boy. Further, many of these had already finished their high school courses but were not quite ready for college and the chance of getting an Andover "A" on their sweaters before entering the higher institution of their choice appealed strongly to those of athletic ability. This was a perfectly natural desire: they were in no sense "ringers": but their presence added greatly to the strength of our teams. This same situation existed at Exeter also and the clashes between these long time rivals were in consequence pretty much on the college level. Indeed for a number of years our schedules included only college varsity teams and we recorded many victories over the smaller colleges and occasional ones over Yale, Harvard, and Princeton. Freshman teams were rarely included and high schools were not even thought of. (16)

Traditionalist though he was, Al's strong moral sense found it difficult to tolerate some of the less attractive customs which had evolved over the years through inter-class athletic competition. The cane rushes between classes, which had regularly taken place between the halves of football games in the earlier years, had been replaced by more orderly forms of mayhem. The House and Street teams in football were the forerunners of the four-club system which emerged shortly after the turn of the century. Only those who were not members of the first and second elevens were eligible to play. The championship games, played during the week following the Andover-Exeter contest, attracted large crowds of highly emotional spectators and were fought to the bloody end. In the winter and spring the tournaments conducted in track and tennis determined the intramural class winners. These were fairly orderly performances by comparison with the class baseball games---orgies which put the Dionysiacs to shame, and were extremely dangerous to boot. Baserunners were imperilled at the first and third base corners by spectators hurling firecrackers, mudballs with stone centers, as well as the vilest imprecations. It was not uncommon for the runner to be attacked and roughed up by groups of overzealous opponents crowding into the sidelines. The games were usually followed by a pitched battle either to retrieve or defend one's class honor.

Having observed some of these performances with distaste during his first year back at Andover, Al concluded that student jinks had gone too far and determined to do something about the situation. After one player was hit in the head by a firecracker and knocked senseless temporarily, he recommended, and the Faculty voted, that thereafter firecrackers were outlawed at class games. On another occasion shortly thereafter, an unfortunate victim lost the sight of one eye permanently after he had been hit with a rotten egg; whereupon the Faculty outlawed egg-throwing. The enthusiastic students persisted, nevertheless, and thoroughly enjoyed the mudslinging which was still allowed. (17) Not all the students were intrigued by the "Muckerism" which attended these contests, and there developed among them a strong lobby to eliminate the whole business. In January of Stearns' second year as Athletic Director a letter to the Phillipian signed "Utilitarian" pointed out the many reasons why class teams should be dropped:

The students are required to support the essential things; why, then, should we be so foolish as to spend $500.00 on the class baseball games, and $200.00 more on suits which are worn on only one occasion? If we do enjoy them, the fun is derived solely from the free fights and the efforts to maim each other with the large cannon crackers which are ever present. Why does the school throw away such large sums on exercises which endanger the lives of many students? The class games have overshadowed the street teams, the loss of which have hurt the "feeder" system to the varsity and thereby has hindered rather than helped the cause of baseball at Andover; indeed, they have hurt the reputation of the school as being nothing but a crowd of "toughs."

The climax came in two incidents the following May during and after the championship game between the classes of 1900 and 1901. The usual shenanigans accompanying these fracases were vividly portrayed in a series of cartoons on the front page of the Phillipian. The accompanying article commended the gentlemanly spirit which had prevailed in that the scrappers had shaken hands after the fierce fight; furthermore, the crowd had stopped throwing the illegal firecrackers at the first request. After the game the noisy crowd drifted down to Chaps, a popular student hangout at the corner of Main and Morton streets. It was there that Pete Drummond, a prominent member of the student body, in a desperate attempt to get rid of a huge firecracker, deposited it in a mailbox, blowing the receptacle to pieces. He was almost immediately apprehended by the local police and eventually summoned before the postal authorities in Boston. Thanks to the intervention of Mr. Stearns, who accompanied Peter, and the good humored understanding of the Police Chief in Boston, the unwitting culprit received a short-lived probation and eventual reprieve. (18)

The second incident with possibly serious consequences happened later that same evening on the same corner. For some time the school authorities had been plagued by a series of false fire alarms. A crisis arose when an exasperated town fire department announced that because of these false alarms, rightly attributed to academy boys, the department would no longer respond to an alarm from any box on the Hill until a second alarm had been sounded. Despite frequent warnings given to the students, the practice continued. Shortly after the conclusion of the aforementioned class game, a fire was discovered in the roof of the grandstand, which the Andover firefighters, in answer to a second alarm, extinguished. But later on that evening a false alarm was rung from the box at the corner of Main and Morton streets. The firebug, long suspected by the Faculty, happened to be the son of the vice-president of the United States. He was caught because in his haste to escape detection he had lost his cap, which was recognized by Al Stearns. Threatened with severe punishment, Dick Fairbanks left school temporarily but returned several days later after he had cleared his account with the Andover police, having satisfied the condition which had been placed on his readmission. (19)

The Phillipian at first adopted a cavalier attitude about the two incidents: "The ringing of the fire alarm later in the evening and the blowing up of the mailbox are to be regretted. It is possible that these acts were committed by persons who are not members of the school." The following day, when the true identity of the culprits had been revealed to all, the editorial column carried a scathing denunciation of class games:

Right now it seems to us, while the whole affair is fresh in our minds, is the proper time to discuss the class game and its moral effect upon the school, even though the direct bearing of such discussion be upon the question---annually a visitor, like the bugs on the elms---whether or not there shall be a class game a year from today. . .

The article continued, suggesting that a code of laws governing the use of gunpowder should be drawn up; marshals should be appointed by the Faculty to manage the affair in all its details, including the use of mud and eggs---"Mud is said to be healthy and eggs are not attended with fatal results certainly when used as an external application. But there should come a time in our development from the primeval mists of muckerdom into the full light of Andover manhood when we would put away mud and the egg would lose its charm." Surely the days of the class baseball games were numbered.

In the seven years between Al's graduation from Phillips Academy and his return to the school as a special staff member certain irregularities had developed in the traditional formats for the Exeter game rallies and victory celebrations. In most respects he found a school little different from the one he had known but did not like some of the "extracurricular activities, which must be reckoned with." He was confronted with the first of these in his first term back. Although the football team had lost a close game to Exeter by a score of 18 to 14, they had, for the first time in the new series, trounced Lawrenceville to the tune of 42 to 4. Having been deprived of a victory celebration the week before, the team and the school obviously were owed a bonfire party for a grand finale to the season. Watching the performance, which was marked by the usual smoke dance round the fire and the speeches from players, faculty, and townspeople, Al was nostalgic but at the same time disturbed that within five minutes after the last speech not a single participant remained on the field to reminisce or recall former deeds, as was the custom in his day. Somewhat puzzled, he retired early to his room in the house on Abbot Street which had been bought by Jim Sawyer, his close friend of Andover days and now Treasurer of the Academy. The mystery of where the students had gone was suddenly solved when his sleep was rudely disturbed as two hundred bacchanalian revellers sang, danced, and stumbled by the house on their way up the hill as dawn broke. By now shocked and angry, Al was determined to pursue the matter and prevent any recurrence of it.

He soon discovered that several years earlier a group of the more active souls among the student body were not satisfied with the simple campus celebration. Something must be added to honor properly the magnificent performances of these victorious warriors. That "something" turned out to be a party of the elite around a keg of beer on the shores of Pomp's Pond. This addition to the campus fête became so popular that within a short time the adventurous group had been enlarged considerably from the ranks of the student body, together with citizens of the town itself, including a number of its officials; and the kegs of beer had multiplied proportionally.

Knowing that such revels as these were hurting the school's reputation and that they should be stopped, Al was faced with the problem of how to go about it. He was new to the school and not quite officially connected with it. He was loath to make the Faculty privy to information he had garnered through his close personal relations with the athletes on his teams. Bothered by the situation though he was, he did nothing about it then, but waited for a more favorable opportunity. It came two years later when George Pettee left Andover to take a Principal's job in Cleveland, Ohio, and Alfred E. Stearns was appointed the Registrar of Phillips Academy. His time to act had now arrived; and the manner in which he solved the problem of these nocturnal revels connected with athletics is testimony not only to his capabilities as an administrator but also toward his genius at handling students in large-group situations.

He had two alternatives: to turn the information over to the Faculty and let them handle it or to press the boys to clean up their own acts. The first course of action would ultimately mean expulsion for many and bad publicity for the school. Therefore, he chose the second course. The first task was to select a student leader and convince him that the cause was extremely important to the future of the school measured in terms of reputation and enrollment. He selected Perley Weeks, an outstanding athlete in football and track, and the most popular leader in the school. Once convinced by Al's sincerity and the assurance of his complete confidence, the big Texan formed a vigilante group among his cohorts which systematically raided the soirées at Pomp's Pond. Perley's group was granted special license to violate school rules when necessary to carry out the mission, an agreement made solely between the Registrar and Weeks. No communication occurred between the two after this first meeting except for Perley's hilarious description of the final dissolution of the Pomp's Pond Keg Parties.(20) Although drinking irregularities occasionally accompany victory celebrations even to this day a rather distasteful tradition had been effectively eliminated by the new Registrar and his student accomplices.

Despite Stearns' continuing efforts to tone down the hyperemotionalism attendant at pre-Exeter game rallies and/or victory celebrations, the boys persisted in throwing themselves into the spirit of these occasions in bizarre and dangerous ways. Sometimes the observance of the customary rites led to tragedy. On the morning of the day of the football game with Exeter in 1906, a student by the name of Creighton Tracy was accidentally shot and killed in Cheever House. He and his closest friend, a student named Edmond Riggs, had attended the noisy rally of the night before, which had passed off without incident. After Chapel the following morning, they stopped off at Creighton's room for a chat. Here Riggs picked up his revolver from the table where it had been left by Hilton, who had borrowed it after the rally the night before. Riggs had fired it many times in the torch light procession, where pistols and blank cartridges were highly visible and accepted as legitimate noisemakers. Nobody realized that Hilton, a day boy from Canobie Lake, New Hampshire, had loaded the pistol with live rounds for protection on his lonely walk home that night. He had forgotten to unload it the next day. While the boys were examining it, the gun was discharged and Creighton was mortally wounded, despite frantic efforts by Principal Stearns, Doctor Page, and a local doctor to save the youngster. There was no victory celebration that night. For the rest of the year a pall hung over the school, and a saddened administration banned thereafter the use of firearms by the celebrants.(21)

In the six years between Al Stearns' return to Phillips Academy and his appointment as the ninth Principal of the school, changes in the athletic program came with breath-taking rapidity. Some of these have already been mentioned. By the turn of the century the school population had grown to over five hundred. The completion of the gymnasium and, within a year, the opening of Brothers Field, the gift of Mr. Knapp, provided the school, for the first time in its long history, adequate facilities for athletics and the care of the physical needs of its boys. As predicted by Dr. Bancroft the gym and the new field cut the number of discipline cases in half. Not only was the physical condition of the student body greatly improved, but its morale was immensely lifted as well. With the chance to blow off excessive physical energy in wholesome and legitimate ways, the temptation to do so in pranks and roughhousing steadily lost its former thrill. Further, the new athletic system of compulsory participation for all which was instituted later would not have been possible without these extensive additions to the plant.(22)

Another not-so-evident change in policy also took place in those six years. Prior to 1896 the captains and managers of the football, baseball, and track teams carried the entire responsibility for coaching the group. Indeed it was not until 1880 that E. B. Downing became the first manager in the school's history to help Captain Howard in football. In 1895 Frank Hinkey, the Andover-Yale hero, coached the team for the last three weeks of the season. The following year J. H. Knapp, who had been a halfback on the 1890 and 1891 teams, did the coaching. During Stearns' first fall, the Shaw brothers of Harvard and W. C. Booth of Princeton helped Al coach football because by his own admission he lacked expertise in that sport. From 1898 to 1907, when the school hired its first permanent faculty coach, Director Stearns adopted a policy of hiring ex-college football players, some of them alumni, on a year-to-year basis. These included the tandem of F. T. Murphy and Jim Rogers, two former Yale Captains, Shirley Ellis from Harvard for one year, W. H. ("Pa") Corbin for three years, and Dr. J. C. O'Connor, a great player at Harvard, for two years through the 1906 season. Only one of the above---Mr. Corbin---was not an alumnus.(23)

In baseball the pattern had followed that of football except there had been no coaches except the captains from 1866 to 1899. When Al Stearns took over the baseball team in 1898, he became the first permanent faculty coach in the academy's history. Track, which had had difficulty in generating the same momentum as the two "senior" sports during the early years, had occasionally borrowed or paid outside help from nearby Harvard, but until 1900 the sport had never been supervised or the athletes trained with any consistency. Athletic Director Stearns took steps to rectify that deficiency in the athletic program when, in the summer of 1899, he hired Sidney C. Peet on permanent basis as the head track coach and permanent trainer for the football team.

Born in Sullivan County, New York, in 1856, Sid began his career in track when he was twenty-three years old and had compiled a notable record. While running in England in 1889 and 1890 he covered 128 yards in 11-4/5 seconds and the 220-yard dash in 21-3/5 seconds. Before going to Andover he was a professional on the track. Earlier he had coached the Bradford High School team and had trained the University of Pennsylvania track team. He was immediately liked and admired by the students. "Mr. S. C. Peet, Andover's coach, has done more for the team probably than any other person and has also made himself the friend of all the fellows who have met him." Even though it took him three years to turn the program around and earn his first win over Exeter, it was obvious that his wards appreciated the quality of his work: "Mr. S. C. Peet has been a very successful coach during the two years in which he has been at Andover." Sid Peet was to serve Phillips Academy well for fifteen years in his work as coach and trainer, in addition to being one of the most beloved personalities on the campus.

Two years after acquiring the professional services of a trainer and track coach, Stearns, the acting Principal in 1902, took another major step to improve the quality of health and physical education at Phillips Academy. He had recently become seriously concerned about the absence of medical facilities at the school and the high incidence of sickness of the contagious variety among the students, a condition derivable in part from the highly unsanitary living conditions in such dormitories as the Latin and English Commons. Gray wooden buildings, bleak and repulsive in their outward appearance, they lacked everything in the way of modern toilets and plumbing facilities. Pumps at the end of each row supplied whatever water was required. Baths were at a premium and not too often resorted to. The "three-seated Chic Sales" which nestled behind each row were certainly not inviting and in winter time were shunned by all but the most hardy, with the result that the annual spring cleaning process in the rear of the buildings was hardly an inviting prospect.(24) Outbreaks of pneumonia, typhoid, and scarlet fever periodically reached epidemic proportions and were extremely difficult to cope with, since there were no doctors on the campus and nothing resembling an infirmary where the seriously ill could be isolated from the rest of the community.

Stearns was also acutely conscious of some glaring weaknesses in the athletic program as he had observed it over five years. The major team activities included only a minute fraction of the student body. Moreover, the physical education aspects of personal hygiene and body conditioning were largely neglected by the vast majority of the boys. It was also obvious that changes were needed in the structure of the so-called intramural program; the street teams and class organizations were inadequate and even dangerous to the participants. There must be a better way to accommodate and control the 550 male animals now living on the Hill. He realized, too, that as the Acting Principal he could no longer commit much of his time to these problems; he must seek professional help. With these things in mind he had hired a physical director named Horace D. Bellis in February 1902. Apparently the arrangement was unsatisfactory, for the gentleman resigned in June of that year; his passing scarcely caused a ripple among the students. The next choice of the trustees for the position of physical director was a propitious one for Phillips Academy. Peirson S. Page, M.D., would guide Andover's athletic destiny with a firm hand for the next thirty-seven years.

Dr. Page was born at Williamsport, Pennsylvania. He received his physical education and technical training at the International Young Men's Christian Association of Springfield, Massachusetts, graduating in 1894. He then entered New York University and Bellevue Medical College, where he was graduated in 1899. On leaving college he was placed in charge of the gymnasium at Orange, New Jersey, and later was physical director of the Y.M.C.A. gymnasium on the corner of 23rd Street and Fourth Avenue, New York City. Just previous to his assuming the Andover position, Dr. Page was doing Y.M.C.A work at Springfield.

"Doc" Page was to be a controversial figure among the students during his entire career at Phillips Academy, and he started right off being one in the fall of 1902, by making his presence as the school doctor and physical director immediately felt. Gymnasium work was to be compulsory, but no classes for indoor work would be held until the outdoor sports were no longer possible in the cold weather. In the meantime, nevertheless, everybody was expected to sign up for something, and teams would be selected in the various sports on the basis of weight, height, and strength. The determination was to be made by physical examination given by the doctor to every boy in school by appointment. Locker keys could be picked up from him upon the deposit of one dollar. By late October all but sixty delinquents, whose names were listed on the front page of the Phillipian, had been examined. Physical education classes for all those not out for division football teams would be held from four to five p.m. on scheduled days after the Exeter game. For the contentedly unfit there were no longer places to hide.

Trained in the Y.M.C.A. tradition, the new Physical Director was an excellent administrator. A new technique of grouping the old street teams into four major geographical blocs---North, South, East, and West---was introduced that fall for the first time and the Division Championship football games were played off during the week following the Exeter game. The price of tickets for the Exeter contest was set early in the term at $1 and $1.50 for reserved seats, with a $.50 charge for general admission. A season ticket for all the pre-Exeter games cost $1. Arrangements were made for special classes on Wednesday and Saturday afternoon in boxing, fencing, and wrestling. Fencing cost $10 for twelve lessons. By mid-November the rules and regulations for the use of the new gym had been published, as had a schedule of the regular gymnasium classes. Peirson S. Page certainly was an organization man.

Gymnasium Work

The regular gymnasium classes will be started next Monday afternoon. A schedule of the classes will be posted the latter part of this week. All men are advised to secure their gymnasium suits which consist of dark blue trousers and jerseys, at once, either from Chase here in Andover, or Wright & Ditson's in Boston. Those who procured suits last year may wear the same ones this year.

All those who have not made appointments for physical examinations, or have not secured lockers must see Dr. Page at once.

Students will not be allowed to use the "gym" during study hours.

The basket ball team will be allowed on the floor Wednesdays and Saturdays from 5 to 6 o'clock for general practice.

The gym will be open for voluntary work on Wednesdays and Saturdays from 2 to o'clock and on other days from 5 to 6 o'clock.

Special classes in boxing, fencing and wrestling will be given on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. The rate will be twelve lessons for $10.00. The fencing class will be started as soon as six men hand in their names. The other special classes will not commence until after Christmas.

Dr. Page is at his office in the Gym daily from 10 am. to 12.

Doc Page spent far more time directing the athletic program and building a strong physical education adjunct to it than practicing medicine per se. One of his innovations was a series of five rather rigorous tests of physical strength, agility, and stamina which came to be known forever after as the P.I. tests, standing for physical inefficiency. Each event was graded in four divisions of five points, the top mark being twenty points. Only students who scored one hundred points were exempted from ever taking it again. The passing grade was seventy points or over but even those who passed had to be re-tested the following year. The failures reported regularly to a physical fitness class every day until they passed the tests. These "therapy" sessions took priority over any sport or activity one selected. The conditions of the tests were designed to evaluate arm, leg, and abdominal muscular strength; to check speed, endurance, and agility in running and jumping; and to determine those who could not swim. For top marks the victim had to swim one hundred yards continuously, high jump four feet three inches, and run one half mile within two minutes and thirty-five seconds. The pole climb requirement was to pull yourself up a suspended pole or rope for eighteen feet without using your feet. "Belly grinds" consisted of hanging by your hands from suspended parallel bars, and then snapping your feet up to the bar to touch your hands. Twelve "grinds" earned you the top score of twenty, five for each three. In many ways the five obstacles were ingeniously contrived. The short, stocky types had some trouble with the running and jumping events, as the present author will attest in looking back to that ordeal of his lower middle year. On the other hand, the elongated types like a George Seabury---six feet seven inches tall and weighing 235 pounds in 1935---had an embarrassingly difficult time performing on the pole and parallel bars. Whatever else they may have been, the P.I. 's had a sharp deflationary effect on one's ego. For all that, however, they well served two generations of Andover students; a new physical education requirement would not be adopted by the Athletic Department until 1955.(25)

Innovative and ingenious as he was in devising the beginning of a program of compulsory physical education based on a medical examination which directed attention to a boy's particular weaknesses and then helped him to rectify them, the new Physical Director, nevertheless, met strong resistance from certain entrenched and traditional segments of the student body. "The Commons Crowd" consisted of approximately one hundred students, mostly scholarship boys, who were quartered in the old, dilapidated Latin or English Commons. Over the years, despite the disadvantages of living in the school's least attractive dormitories, this group had developed a fierce pride of presence in the Andover community:

Commons' rooms were reserved for the use of scholarship students, so the men who lived in Commons were bound together by at least one common tie: they were all "hard up." Judged by modern standards, I suppose they were members of an underprivileged group but they were blissfully unaware of any class distinction, and there was no indication that anyone suffered from an inferiority complex. As a matter of fact, they were gifted with a degree of self-assurance that bordered on conceit there existed in the Commons community a kind of aristocracy of independence and freedom which was a pain in the cervical to members of other groups .... It was hinted in some quarters that Commons men were regarded with just a touch of envy . . . . they were a heterogeneous but organized minority and a force to be reckoned with in the Life of the school. (26)

Many of that "organized minority" were the top athletes on the school teams. By virtue of their prestigious positions they pretty much controlled athletic activities and resented any interference. Stearns had, on many occasions, deplored the hit or miss state of athletics at Andover, a posture highly acceptable to the student leaders of the program. Now, in his first year as Principal, he was proposing to raze the old Commons buildings and to replace them with more commodious billets, thereby destroying a glorious tradition and the spirit which had made Commons a sustaining force in school life. It was into this political maelstrom that Peirson S. Page, M.D., was launched in the fall of 1902. Because he was entirely unfamiliar with Andover traditions, having worked heretofore with Y.M.C.A. and Boys Club groups, he could not understand the bitterness of the Commons Crowd and their leader, Jack Cates, the football and track captain that year. They were out to get Page and made no bones about it. Tradition, so called, stood toe to toe with reorganization. The protest took many forms, ranging from pooh-poohing the program to the character assassination of its progenitor. When the new Principal defended P.S. P., the mob included him in their invective.(27) In deriding the Doctor's lectures on personal hygiene as being too detailed and graphic, one student maintained: "As I look back on it, the underlying thesis [of Page's talks] seems to have been that it would have been highly embarrassing to the highly Congregational Doctor Stearns and the parents if any of his charges had been compromised in Lawrence. Bastards are so easily lost in Boston."(28) Eventually, however, the storm subsided, and both the new Principal and the new Athletic Director emerged only slightly bruised but even more determined to push for change.

While Dr. Page never professed to be a crack surgeon, he took extremely good care of the aches, bruises, and minor illnesses which any school is heir to. He had received good medical training and knew when a youngster needed attention. During his daily rounds if he discovered a seriously sick student, the case was immediately referred to local physicians or to specialists in Boston. Unfortunately for his image among many of the boys, he was somewhat of a fussy old man on the subjects of physiology and hygiene. The remedy for "jock itch," an irritation many male athletes are prone to, was to place a clean handkerchief between the body and the jockstrap. All cuts and abrasions had to be treated immediately with tincture of iodine. In bad weather it was imperative that one keep his head warm and his feet dry by wearing a hat and rubbers. After exercise and a warm shower it was essential that one rinse with cold water to close the pores before stepping into the cold outdoors. While some of these admonitions seem inane today, they all carried more than a modicum of common sense. More importantly, the system worked and Andover's health record stood at the top among schools of its class. In the early 1900's when a prominent Boston physician, Doctor Shattuck, a trustee of St. Paul's, investigated a group of New England schools including Andover, he wrote Dr. Stearns that Phillips Academy's health record surpassed all others.(29) Ex-Principal Stearns, in later years, wrote to Dr. Fuess about P.S.P.:

Frankly, and I have always said it, Page was a wonderfully valuable asset to the school and to me. Further, he was a born organizer and did a mighty fine job in getting our new system established and in smooth running order. I don't know what I would have done without him, though I recognized his limitations, of which some of the boys made a good deal, but which were almost wholly superficial. He did his job loyally and effectively, and I developed an increasing admiration and affection for him as the years went by. I doubt whether the public realized as I did the great contribution Page made to P. A. My hat's off to him, now as then.(30)