most Americans, academic studies in Oxford ranked third, trailing social life and sports. For evidence of this one can consult early issues of the two quarterly magazines that they published. After Earle Murray (1904) returned home in 1907, he thought it would be a grand idea if Rhodes Scholars maintained contact with one another throughout their careers. He immediately began publishing the Alumni Magazine. That venture was modest and never became the thriving enterprise he had anticipated. Losing enthusiasm for the project, Murray ceased publication in 1913. The following year, however, Frank Aydelotte determined to revive the idea and to establish a full-fledged alumni association. The new journal was The American Oxonian, and he mailed it to every scholar returning from Oxford. Each person also automatically became a member of the Alumni Association of American Rhodes Scholars (the word Alumni was later dropped). Thanks to Aydelotte's unflagging zeal, the journal and the association would flourish to the present day. If one looks at the Alumni Magazine and early issues of The American Oxonian, one sees that far fewer than half of the pages concern the academic side of life in Oxford.
How did the Rhodes Scholars perform as “scholars”? In view of the difficulty in the early years of recruiting large numbers of applicants and the busy social and athletic lives that they led once they arrived in Oxford, it is not surprising that their academic record was decidedly uneven.
In fact, the academic performance by American Rhodes Scholars in general was a distinct disappointment, both to British and American observers and to the Rhodes Scholars themselves. The final results for the class of 1904 were as follows: seven read in their fields but did not obtain degrees; one took a pass degree; one obtained a diploma (for a course of study not leading to a full degree); one took an advanced degree (the B.Sc.); three obtained Fourths; twelve got Thirds; eleven achieved Seconds; and six were awarded Firsts.8
This was distinctly below the level of performance of the top British students (those in Oxford on scholarships). It was, however, about the same level of performance as the average Oxford student. Yet one must also recall that prior to the Second World War the caliber of the average Oxford student was not stellar; providing that one came from the right sort of family or attended the right kind of public school, one could gain entry. Rhodes Scholars, who were “perfect” men, chosen through rigorous competitions, were supposed to be far above the average.
Their record remained lackluster through the 1920s. In all approximately fourteen percent obtained Firsts, compared with twenty-seven percent of British scholarship students.9 Again and again the pages of the Alumni Magazine and The American Oxonian lamented the poor showing of Rhodes Scholars or offered excuses to explain it. The inaugural issue of the Alumni Magazine in 1907 admitted that much improvement was needed but pleaded that the results “are all that can be expected from the pioneers.” It boldly (and inaccurately) predicted that by 1920 all Rhodes Scholars would take Firsts.10 The first issue of the American Oxonian appeared in April 1914 and featured an article by an Oxford don named Sidney Ball. He was a fellow of St. John's College, and his article was entitled “Oxford's Opinion of Rhodes Scholars.” Regarding their academic record, he diplomatically said that it was “goodish” rather than first-rate.11
A report commissioned by the Carnegie Foundation in 1911 was more blunt. The study quoted dozens of Oxford dons. In a couple of instances the tutors acknowledged that a small number of the Americans were first-rate. The other Rhodes Scholars were generally regarded as pleasant but equal only to the average Oxford student. The tutors' comments included the following: one American had “not been properly taught” in the United States; the newcomers were “typical Americans” (this was not meant as a compliment); the Americans were “restless and volatile” and could not settle down to hard work; they suffered from a “curious superficiality of training” and in some cases were “singularly uneducated” or had linguistic attainments that were “slender.”12
George Parkin himself had to deal with the issue in public. The most that he could say on behalf of his American charges was that, although their record contained few marked successes, at least there were few who failed their exams. On several occasions he beseeched American universities to do more to advertise the program and improve the numbers and the quality of the applicants, so that Rhodes Scholars would indeed be the pick of each year's crop.13
To be fair, one must remember that for each American who got a Fourth or a failure there was at least one who got a First. In addition, each year one or two successfully completed a thesis and obtained an advanced degree (a B.Sc. or B.Litt). There were also a couple each year who received some of the prestigious prizes and awards distributed by the colleges.
Why, however, did most of these early scholars not meet expectations? Part of the reason was that expectations were too high. Anything less than all of them gaining Firsts was bound to provide fodder to critics. Another problem was that the Americans indeed were restless and volatile. Like a majority of Americans in that period, most of them had come from small towns, and few had traveled widely. Arriving in a foreign land for the first time, they did not want to stay cooped up in their rooms or in libraries and laboratories for the next three years. They wanted to see and do everything.
This included travel. The pioneer Rhodes Scholars, like their successors today, were encouraged by the Oxford Secretary to leave Oxford during the winter, spring, and summer vacations. Future world leaders, after all, needed a broad range of experiences. The vacation periods took up more than half of the year. Provided that one was frugal in Oxford or had a private source of income (usually one's family), a Rhodes Scholar could travel widely. Hardly any missed this opportunity, and most of them visited five or more European countries before returning to the States.
Frank Aydelotte later remarked that many a Rhodes Scholar missed getting a First in his exams because of his extensive travels. This wanderlust was a major difference between the Americans and the British. The typical British student had already traveled widely in Britain and on the continent, and he knew that throughout his life he would have ample opportunities to continue such forays. In contrast, everything was new to the Americans, and they could not be sure when, or if, they could ever return. Their wanderings gave them many precious memories and broadened their cultural horizons, but also hurt their studies. To the typical Oxford student, the eight-week terms were a period of moderate study plus heavy doses of sports and socializing. Vacations for the British were the times when those who were serious about their work did most of their reading. A British student would go home with trunks full of books; if he did travel, he took his reading with him and holed up in scenic spots where he could spend his daylight hours studying. For most – though not all-Rhodes Scholars, however, travel and holidays were just that and no more. Hence, when they returned to Oxford for the next term they had made little progress in the huge reading lists they would have to master before “schools.”14
An additional reason for their relative lack of self-discipline was the newness of the tutorial system. Back home it was harder to slack off - one had quizzes, midterms, written assignments that received grades, and semester courses that had to be passed. But in Oxford a student was on one's own. Providing that one met his tutor each week and submitted a paper of at least minimal quality, one could coast for three years. Of course, the student who did this was unlikely to get a First or a Second in the one or two week's worth of essay examinations that came before graduation. Several Americans later admitted that they and many of their friends had not worked hard.15
The dons also presented problems for some students. The tutorial system was one of the glories of Oxford and Cambridge. Whereas in the American lecture system, a student could be a somnolent, passive receptacle into which a professor tried to pour knowledge, tutorials compelled a student to be responsible for his own learning. But, as noted, it could be disastrous if the mix between tutor and student was not congenial. The range of the Americans' experiences ran the entire length of the tutorial spectrum. One's tutor might be brilliant and friendly, or mediocre and antagonistic; intimidating or shy and quiet; bombastic or humble; gentle
