was a magnificent specimen of manhood, intellectually and
physically. Tall and majestic in appearance, he had a massive head and
noble countenance, an intellect profound and brilliant. No wonder that
he was worshiped, for he was god-like in form and in mind. Like many
another great man, however, it was his fate to incur the enmity of
certain others too narrow and mean to appreciate either his ability or
his nobility of character. Being on the Board of Regents they had the
power, and used it relentlessly, to drive him out of the seat of
learning which he had done more than all others to build up and to
honor. The University was his pride and glory and when he was thus
smitten in the house of his friends he shook the dust from his feet and
went away, never to return. It is a sad story. He died abroad, after
having been for many years an exile from his native land. The feeling
against these men was bitter in the extreme. The students hung one of
them in effigy and marched in a body to the house of the other and
assailed it with stones and missiles, meantime filling the air with
execrations on his head. Both long since ceased to be remembered, even
by name, but the memory of Tappan remains as one of the choicest
traditions of the University, and it will be as enduring as the life of
the institution itself.

CHAPTER II

AN EVENTFUL WINTER

It was an eventful winter that preceded the breaking out of the war
between the states. The salient feature of the time, apart from the
excitement, was the uncertainty. War seemed inevitable, yet the
temporizing continued. The South went on seizing forts and plundering
arsenals, terrorizing union sentiment, and threatening the federal
government. The arming of troops proceeded without check, and hostile
cannon were defiantly pointed at federal forts. Every friend of his
country felt his cheek burn with shame, and longed for one day of Andrew
Jackson to stifle the conspiracy while it was in its infancy. One by one
the states went out, boldly proclaiming that they owed no allegiance to
the government; but the leaders in the North clung to the delusion that
the bridges were not all burned and that the erring ones might be coaxed
or cajoled into returning. Concessions were offered, point after point
was yielded, even to the verge of dishonor, in an idle attempt to patch
up a peace that, from the nature of the case, could have been but
temporary, if obtained on such terms. The peopl