Rhodes Scholars, Oxford, and the Creation of an American Elite. Thomas J. Schaeper
them Americans, returned to Oxford to participate in the celebrations. They were joined by dignitaries like the Prince of Wales, Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, and the Archbishop of Canterbury.9
Situated on South Parks Road, near the heart of the university area, this imposing edifice was designed by Herbert Baker, who had been Cecil Rhodes' friend and architect in South Africa. Aesthetically, the building was not universally admired. A quarter-century after it was built, the head of the trustees could find no warmer words of praise than “imposing Cotswold pile.”10 What it lacked in beauty, it made up for in size. It was designed to serve several functions. It became the residence of the Oxford Secretary. Up to then Francis Wylie had conducted all of his business from his home. Now he and his wife would have spacious living accommodations plus several rooms for storing all the records of the program. The Secretary now also had facilities for entertaining the current scholars. Each fall there would be a formal dinner for new scholars and each summer a grand affair for those about to go down. In addition, Rhodes House was a place where scholars could listen to guest lecturers. The building contained several impressive meeting rooms and halls, but what most impressed many visitors was the fact that the building possessed eight fully modern toilets. Part of the structure was set aside as a branch library of the Bodleian. Rhodes House Library quickly became the chief repository for most books relating to the United States and the British Commonwealth. Finally, Rhodes House was a gift to the city and the university as a whole. Many of its rooms were open to the public, and the university began to use it for various meetings and conferences. In keeping with the magnificence of his new surroundings, the Oxford Secretary now acquired a second title: Warden of Rhodes House.
One final change came in the 1920s. Despite the inclusion of former scholars on the selection committees and an increase in the applicant pool, the academic record of American Rhodes Scholars improved only marginally. Frank Aydelotte gradually came to discern what he believed to be the major flaw. It still lay in the selection process itself. Cecil Rhodes had wanted scholars to come from each state of the Union, thus guaranteeing the widest geographical distribution. This meant, however, that smallest states, in terms of population, produced just as many Rhodes Scholars as the largest states. Inevitably, the applicant pool in North Dakota, Nevada, and Idaho was much smaller than in states like New York, Pennsylvania, and California. In the 1920s there were still some instances of committees in the less populated states deciding that no candidate was worthy; thus some slots went unfilled. Worse than that, some committees, when faced with mediocre candidates, went ahead and made appointments anyway. Aydelotte reported that a few Oxford colleges had become upset with the caliber of these men and were threatening to reject all future scholars from those states.11
In the mid-1920s Aydelotte began to float an idea that George Parkin had first mentioned years earlier. He wanted to make sure that each appointment came from a sufficiently large applicant pool. In 1929 he finally proposed his idea to the Rhodes Trustees and to the Association of American Rhodes Scholars.12 The result, approved by both organizations, was the district plan. This new scheme involved a departure from Rhodes' will, and thus required an Act of Parliament for authorization. Both Houses gave their assent.
Beginning in 1930, for what would be the class of 1931, the United States would be divided into eight regional districts. Each of these consisted of six states.13 There were still some glaring differences in population between the districts. Nevertheless, even the regions in the western half of the country would now produce enough candidates to allow committees to choose men of the highest quality-or so it was hoped.
The new selection procedure was now split into two stages. An applicant first applied to his state committee. The latter selected two candidates who would progress to the district level. The district committee would then interview the twelve finalists – two from each state. After a day of interviewing, the committee would then inform four of the anxious twelve that they had been chosen. The eight districts thus combined to produce thirty-two scholars each year. All this took place within one week, usually in early December.
The district plan might seem justifiable and non-controversial to an outside observer. However, it met with howls of protest at the time and continues to meet some objections today. Though most former Rhodes Scholars who participated in the 1929 vote gave it their approval, there was a vocal core of opposition. Some argued that the novelty was objectionable because it violated Rhodes' will. Defenders of the reform, however, countered that it maintained Rhodes' desire for geographical distribution and bolstered Rhodes' aim of attracting the “best men.” Other critics lambasted it because it was yet another slander against the quality of earlier appointees. Numerous scholars from the initial years were getting fed up with being told that they had not been good enough for Oxford.
Finally, some adversaries claimed that the new system would benefit larger states at the expense of smaller ones. There was some truth to this. Formerly, all states had been on an equal footing. In the district plan, however, the final committee could chose a total of four scholars from the six states represented. This meant that at least two states would not produce a scholar that year. Furthermore, if the committee chose two candidates from a single state this would eliminate yet another state.
The reform's proponents, on the other hand, pointed out that it could in some cases favor the less populous states. Two of the candidates chosen by a district might just as well be from Rhode Island or Arizona as from a demographically larger state like Florida or Ohio. The final decision would depend on the caliber of the twelve finalists each year. Indeed, as Aydelotte was able to demonstrate within a few years, the smaller states, proportionate to their population, did outperform the larger ones in producing winning candidates.14
Growing Popularity
The end of the war produced a veritable flood of American and other Rhodes Scholars into Oxford. The appointment of scholars had continued between 1914 and 1918, but few of them went to Oxford. Most scholars in the dominions and colonies entered the armed forces to fight for the British Empire. The situation of the Americans was different. Most of those who were already in Oxford in 1914 stayed there to finish their work. Some obtained exemptions from part of their degree requirements so that they could take their exams early and return home. Newly appointed Americans were advised not to go to Oxford, and most of them accepted that advice. Not knowing when the war would end, Parkin stopped all Americans from “coming up” in the fall of 1918.
The result was that by 1919 there were a couple of hundred American and other Rhodes Scholars who had been forced to leave Oxford early or who had never come at all. The trustees decided in 1919 to allow all of these “war” scholars to take up their scholarships if they wished, and several did so in 1919 or 1920. The German scholarships, however, remained abolished. Only in 1929 were they re-established. In 1920 one new scholarship was created – for Malta.15 In addition, several extra Rhodes Scholars from all constituencies were appointed in the classes of 1919, 1920, and 1921.
Many of the scholars who had postponed coming up were in their mid- to late twenties by the time they reached Oxford. They were unusual in another respect too. Dozens of them had married during the war. After much soul-searching, the trustees decided to contravene Rhodes' will. These men were permitted to take up their scholarships and to bring their wives, and in numerous cases, their children, with them. Francis Wylie and his wife did their best to help these families find appropriate housing in the city. However, Wylie could never completely adjust to this novelty. He later wrote:
It was a distracted life the married Rhodes Scholars lived, torn, as they were bound to be, between the rival claims of wife, Schools and College. They could satisfy any two of these; but not, to the full, all three. I remember meeting one of them wheeling a perambulator down one of Oxford's dreariest streets, his wife being busy with a second baby. He was a first-rate man, and did in fact get a First: but, beyond an occasional game of football, he could seldom escape from his student nursemaid existence. I felt glad that Mr. Rhodes could not see that pram.16
The rise in the number of applicants in the 1920s resulted partly from the changes mentioned above. The increase also reflected the favorable word-of-mouth advertising by the hundreds of former Rhodes Scholars who were now active in their careers. Nearly all Oxford veterans were reporting that the experience was