The building on the north and west of the area is the South Cadet Barracks, built in 1848. This edifice, of 360 feet frontage, is constructed of native granite, with crenelations and cornices of red sandstone, and the Elizabethan style of its architecture harmonizes perfectly with the Gothic of the new buildings. In fact, the old Cadet Barracks is one of West Point’s handsomest buildings. There are two hundred rooms in the building, 14 × 22 feet, each planned to accommodate two cadets. It is completely supplied with modern plumbing, heating, and electric lights. The barracks are divided into divisions, each containing sixteen rooms. There is no lateral communication between the divisions, but a certain number of them are assigned to a company, according to its strength. At present the 1st Bn. Cos. A, B, C, and D are quartered here. I have often stood in the Area of Barracks and looked through the north sally-port to enjoy the fine vista that it framed. A section of the Plain fills half the picture, a beautiful foreground, either when resignedly spread out to the heat of the Highland summer, or shivering under its fleecy blanket of snow, over which the winter winds angrily blow. In the upper half against the far-away background of the Highland hills is the slender flagstaff, sometimes swathed in the folds of our national emblem, sometimes resisting with all its strength the fluttering of its precious charge which seems to implore its release to join the flight of the breeze. As we leave the north sally-port and turn toward the angle between the two sets of barracks, high on the hill the monumental Cadet Chapel, West Point’s spiritual fortress, looms above with extraordinary effectiveness. It has a fine site on a commanding spur just above the old Cadet Barracks on the west, from which point it dominates the Post. It lies in the shadow of old Fort Putnam of Revolutionary fame, and, built of stone quarried from its own hill, it seems a part of its naturally beautiful surroundings. [Illustration: The Chapel] This edifice is in reality a large church with a seating capacity of fourteen hundred persons. In plan it is a crucifix, surmounted by a large central tower whose parapet is 130 feet above the pavement of the interior and 420 feet above the level of the river. The tower contains two stories: the bell-ringer’s story and the belfry above. There are as yet no chimes, but on national holidays, Christmas morning, and Easter, the band mounts to the bell-ringer’s story, and the airs appropriate for the day float out through the louver windows in a weird and mysterious manner, as if some invisible symphony was playing in the clouds. Just above the stately clerestory windows, and around the cornice of the building, is a row of carved figures, little bosses, representing the quest of the Holy Grail. Over the door of the main entrance is a great two-handed sword, Excalibur.