1912: A Year To Remember

The 1912 season was a revolutionary one for college football.  A century ago, the NCAA implemented a number of rule changes to the then-77-school league that would change the game forever, ushering in the modern era of America’s most popular sport.

For the first time, teams were given four downs instead of three; the value of touchdowns was increased from five points to six; and the field was reduced from 110 to 100 yards, with two end zones of ten yards added instead. Among smaller changes, kickoffs were made from the 40-yard line rather than midfield, the ball was placed at the 20 rather than the 25 following touchbacks, teams were given much more leeway to use the forward pass, and the onside kick was abolished.

The new rules were implemented on Feb. 3, 1912 by a football rules committee composed of Harvard head coach Percy D. Haughton, Class of 1899, Yale’s Walter Camp, and Penn’s W.N. Morice. According to The Crimson, the changes were intended to “more nearly equalize the attacking and defensive powers.”

“During the past season it developed that if a team could not gain its ten yards in two downs it preferred to trust to the individual ability of a punter, rather than to risk losing the ball entirely,” the newspaper explained. “The change which gives a team four downs to make ten yards is expected to strengthen the offense.” The reasoning provided for the ban on onside kicks was their “generally unsatisfactory nature, and the possibility of injuries resulting from the efforts to recover the bounding ball.”

Ten months later, the first season under the new rules came to an end with Haughton’s Crimson at the top of the college football world. Harvard dominated its schedule and finished the year 9-0—its first of three straight unbeaten seasons—and earned its sixth national championship.

The story of how the team got to that point involves more than the coach who had been a two-time first-team All-American at defensive tackle for the Crimson from 1896 to 1899. It also encompasses a defensive end who would later shun Connie Mack, a fullback who found the game “not quite rough enough,” two interior linemen who would later become a chemist and a war hero, and one of the best drop-kickers in history.

TRAINING DAY

A few months after the new rules had been put in place, Haughton began preparations for Harvard’s season opener against Maine, which would take place at the nine-year-old Harvard Stadium on Sept. 28. Coming off a 6-2-1 season in 1911, the Crimson practiced for just two weeks upon arriving at school. During those practices, according to The Crimson, “shifting teams of men on the first squad were put against one another for practice in running through signals and formations against a defence [sic].”

Defensive end Samuel Felton and fullback Huntington “Tack” Hardwick battled against each other for the punter job, averaging 40 yards per punt in practice with a few 50-yard kicks as well.  A year prior, Felton had been one of the leaders of a Crimson squad that had opened the season 5-0, outscoring opponents 72-6 over that stretch. But the then-junior was seriously injured in that fifth game against Brown after being kicked in the side and developing a blood clot. Following the injury, the team was never the same and went 1-2-1 down the stretch. But with a new season on the horizon, The Crimson noted Felton’s recovery, stating that his “work in all departments of the game is excellent and it is fortunate that he will be able to play the entire season.”

The 174-pound Hardwick was known for his blocking skills. One reporter would later describe him as “perhaps the hardest blocker American football has ever known. A vicious, tireless interferer, Hardwick was never happy as long as a single enemy remained standing.” Sportswriter Grantland Rice would later deem the sophomore “the spirit of football,” describing him as “a big, fine-looking aristocrat from blue-blood stock,” who “loved combat—body contact at crushing force.”

Robert Storer lined up alongside Felton at defensive tackle. An upperclassman who had also played center the year before, Storer was well known for his special teams prowess, notably his ability to “[get] down the field under punts with the ends and [make] a sure tackle of the runner,” according to The Crimson.

As the team continued to prepare for the Black Bears, Haughton emphasized both field goal kicking and the newly important forward pass. 5’8” quarterback H.B. Gardener quickly began generating chemistry by throwing 20-yard passes to teammates J.A. Milholland and Albert Weatherhead.

Behind Gardener was halfback Charles Brickley, also a talented drop-kicker who had captained the freshman squad a year prior. Before arriving at school, Brickley had finished ninth in the triple jump at the 1912 Summer Olympics in Stockholm.  Frederick Bradlee also played halfback while Hardwick served as the fullback. “All of these men are heavy and fast, and are developing into sure ground gainers,” The Crimson wrote.

Members of the offensive line included Gerard Driscoll, a newcomer to the team who had been “showing up very well” during practices, the 185-pound Derrick Parmenter—described as “fast in charging”—at center, sophomore Stanley Pennock at right guard, and Weatherford, another sophomore, at right tackle. Pennock had played on the freshman team the year prior, and to that point, according to The Crimson, he had “yet to prove his value on the first eleven, though his work in practice has been good.”

THE GAMES BEGIN

Once the practices were complete, opening day finally arrived. Maine came to Cambridge fresh off a 38-0 defeat of Fort McKinley a week earlier, and the Black Bears, according to The Crimson, were “prepared to give the University a hard rub.”

The team Harvard put on the field for its opener was an inexperienced one, with a group of players that The Crimson stated “as a whole have had little experience in University football.”  Following the graduation of All-Americans such as end L.D. Smith and guard Bob Fisher, both Class of 1912, half of the Crimson’s starting lineup came from the previous year’s freshman team.

Despite its youth—which may have led to what The Crimson called a “distinct lack of team-play” in its first game—Harvard was able to shut out Maine, 7-0. Brickley scored the team’s only touchdown on an early 17-yard run. After bringing the ball to the Crimson 20, the Black Bears had the chance to tie the game on its next drive. On fourth down, Maine ran a fake field goal, but a pass missed a wide-open receiver in the end zone—instead hitting the crossbar directly in front of him—thus ending the Black Bears’ best threat.

Following a week of “hard scrimmages,” Harvard’s offense was much more in sync, as the Crimson topped Holy Cross, 19-0, in a contest dominated by the ground game. Harvard opened with 10 consecutive rushes that led to a Brickley score. Hardwick was featured in the second period, and a 35-yard gain helped set up his first touchdown of the afternoon. Before the period was over, Brickley had added his second score, and in the subsequent half, Harvard put in its bench players, who according to The Crimson “were weaker [than the starters] but far from bad.” Though Holy Cross made it down to the Crimson 12, the Harvard reserves successively forced the Crusaders’ running backs into a combined 15 yards in losses to preserve the shutout.

Reporting on the game the following Monday, the paper stated that Harvard “showed two things clearly; namely, that the changes in the rules which have been the cause of a good deal of skepticism among followers of football have not spoiled the game, and that the Harvard squad has on it men who may be depended upon to turn out a team well up to the standard.”

The Crimson cruised to another win on October 12, topping Williams 26-3. The Ephs’ points—the first of the season against Harvard—came as a result of what The Crimson called a “splendid” succession of forward passes in the second quarter. The following weekend, Harvard dominated Amherst, steamrolling to a 46-0 victory. The shutout came despite the absence of Wendell—who had suffered a cut behind his ear in practice that week—as Hardwick picked up the slack with a 60-yard touchdown run.

With its captain back, the Crimson played its first future Ivy League foe, Brown, on Oct. 26. The Bears—who, according to The Crimson came into the game outweighing Harvard 179 to 175 pounds on average—contained a backfield “composed of the hardest of line plungers.” But despite their size, the Bears were no match for Harvard, which cruised to a 36-10 victory. The successive wins to that point led The Crimson to note that “the early season games have conclusively proved that the 1912 team is well up to the average of Harvard football teams of former years.”

A DATE WITH THE PRINCE

As the calendar turned to November, Harvard was faced with its biggest challenge yet—the defending national champion and, to that point, undefeated Princeton, whom the Crimson had not defeated in a quarter century.

Before the contest, The Crimson stated that “whether [Harvard] is of championship calibre today’s contest will undoubtedly declare.” The game thus aroused “an extraordinary amount of interest” among students, who eagerly picked up $2 tickets at Cambridge locales like Leavitt and Peirce’s, Wright & Ditson’s, and the Co-op and also submitted manuscripts to a football song competition that was open to all members of the university. (The school was resolved to have "good singing at games this year, or none at all," according to The Crimson.) Though Princeton had scored far more points than Harvard—a much more conservative team that tended to punt on first or second down in order to get back on defense—the two squads had similar strengths and weaknesses.

“Both [teams’] backfields have displayed the same consistent, and at times spectacular, ability,” the paper explained, but each squad also “showed the same urgent need of more practice in tackling.”

As the big game approached, The Crimson noted that “predictions as to the result of a game between two teams so evenly matched are practically impossible; but there can be no doubt that it will be unusually interesting and spectacular. Our confidence in our team remains unshaken, for we realize its ability and fighting spirit, and we feel that the memory of last year's [8-6] defeat will help to arouse the players to their greatest efforts.”

On gameday, that was exactly what occurred. The Crimson took a 3-0 lead on a short Brickley field goal. Despite rushing for 109 yards in the first half, Princeton was only able to score via the air, as a 25-yard completion set up a shorter touchdown pass and gave the Tigers a 6-3 lead at the half.

But Brickley’s leg continued to shine, as the sophomore drilled another field goal in the third quarter and then a 47-yarder in the fourth to give the Crimson the lead. Hardwick added a late touchdown run and the extra point to put away a 16-6 victory as the Harvard defense held the Tigers to -9 yards on the ground in the second half.

“Contrary to the general supposition of spectators,” The Crimson noted that Brickley escaped the game with only a few muscle bruises, but Harvard’s coaches nonetheless gave him and the entire team a rest from practice the Monday following the physical match.

CHAMPIONSHIP FEVER

In its next contest, Harvard took on Vanderbilt, and its coaches, The Crimson noted, made sure not to underrate “this championship team of the South, and consequently [prepared] for a fast, light team with a versatile attack similar to that of Princeton.” It was the Commodores’ first trip to Harvard Stadium, and the paper, noting the economic and logistical difficulty of playing teams from outside the northeast, pointed out that “this intersectional rivalry cannot but result, in some degree, at least, in an increase of friendship and understanding.”

The Commodores had outscored their opponents 342-3 to that point, and seats were in high demand at $1.50 each between the twenty-yard lines and $1.00 outside them. When game day finally arrived, the home fans—except for the 205 students who couldn’t attend because they had resold tickets to previous games and were thus on the “Football Black List”—were rewarded with a 9-3 victory, despite the fact that the Crimson chose to play all of its reserves. It would be the Commodores’ only loss of the season, and they suffered a number of prominent injuries during it.

In its penultimate game on Nov. 16, Harvard faced a Dartmouth team that according to The Crimson arrived in Cambridge “full of confidence and determined to win.” The paper noted that “as this is the final game of the season for the Green, every energy has been utilized to build up a fast and aggressive team.... The Dartmouth eleven will put forth every effort and use every style of play it has mastered in order to gain the victory.”

But despite its will, the Big Green could not score against the vaulted Crimson defense, which helped Harvard earn a 3-0 win. The Crimson alternated simple line plunges and end runs throughout—also trying one of Vanderbilt’s passing plays from the week before—and the lone score came on a Brickley seven-yard drop-kick in the third quarter. Though Brickley missed his other three field-goal attempts, he made up for that by rushing for 68 of Harvard’s 190 yards on the ground.

In its final game of the season, Harvard, 8-0 to that point, traveled to New Haven to face a 7-0-1 Yale team. Despite the lack of losses on both sides, Harvard was considered a heavy favorite. Of the over 33,000 people who attended the game, 16,000 supported Harvard while 17,000 rooted for the Bulldogs, according to The Crimson. But Yale’s fans could not spur its team to victory, as Harvard capped a perfect season with a 20-0 win.

Storer scored the Crimson’s opening touchdown, the school’s first against the Bulldogs in over a decade. Brickley added a pair of field goals—the second set up by his own 40-yard run—and following a forced fumble by Hardwick, the sophomore added his ninth score of the year in the third quarter.

The Crimson capped the championship-clinching win with the “snake dance,” a victory celebration in which the Harvard fans joined hands and zig-zagged toward the goal post, over which they tossed their hats.

A WIDE-RANGING LEGACY

Following an undefeated season in which Harvard had outscored its opponents, 176-22, despite a challenging schedule, the championship team was honored at the Copley-Plaza Hotel with what The Crimson called the “largest Harvard dinner ever held in Boston.” Approximately 600 alumni were in attendance, including nearly the entire 1890 championship team as well as President Lowell.

At the year’s conclusion, Felton, Storer, Pennock, Gardner, Brickley, Wendell, and Hardwick all earned All-America honors and went on to a wide array of futures.

After graduating from Harvard, Felton declined a three-year offer to play professional baseball for Connie Mack’s Philadelphia Athletics valued at $15,000 per year with the option of unconditional release—then the largest ever offer to a collegiate athlete. He did so despite the fact that the normally-conservative Mack tried “as he has never before done” to sign Felton because Mack felt Felton could have been “one of the greatest pitchers in the history of the game,” according to the Washington Post. The star athlete, from a wealthy family, instead returned to his home in Haverford, Penn., to pursue a career in business.

Storer, a Boston native, served as captain of another undefeated and untied Harvard football team in 1913—the last such squad until 2001. He would go on to fight in World War I, serving as a major and commander of Battery E of the 305th Field Artillery. In September 1918, he was noted for his bravery in saving a French officer while on a reconnaissance mission.

Storer’s fellow interior lineman, Pennock, was once again named an All-American the following two seasons. After graduating, he partnered with a pair of classmates and opened a chemistry laboratory, but he was killed in an gasoline-induced explosion at a chemical plant in New Jersey in 1916. At his funeral, six of his Harvard teammates, including his former roommate Brickley, carried his body to his grave in Syracuse. He was posthumously elected to the College Football Hall of Fame in 1954.

Brickley—from a family of athletes—is still tied for the Harvard record for field goals made in a season with the 13 he scored in 1912. His 94 points that year and 215 during the course of his career were school records that stood for 92 years, and his five field goals in the following year’s matchup with Yale clinched another national title for the Crimson. The kicker later became a coach, and after turning down offers from NYU and Penn State accepted the head coaching job at Johns Hopkins in 1915. He next became the head coach at Boston College and Fordham, but after ample legal trouble stemming from poor investments and illegal financial practices, he died of heart disease in 1949. Hours before his death, the former Crimson star, disappointed at his alma mater’s recent struggles, allegedly told a reporter that “what Harvard needs is a czar of football to get the game on a sound basis.” Numerous obituaries noted that Brickley “found the game of football easier than the game of life.”

Hardwick, a Quincy native who was a three-sport varsity athlete at Harvard, was later named by Rice as one of the five greatest competitors the writer had ever seen, along with the likes of Ty Cobb and Jack Dempsey. Like Storer, Hardwick also fought in World War I, serving as a U.S. Army artillery captain who commanded a trench mortar unit in France. He then went on to a successful career in business, helping found the Boston Garden in 1929. Hardwick died of a heart attack while clamming at Church’s Beach on Cuttyhunk Island off the Massachusetts coast in 1949, and Rice, in an obituary, wrote that “of all the college football players I’ve ever known since 1900, I would say he was top man in the matter of flaming spirit. He loved football with an intensity beyond belief.... If football had a weakness for Hardwick it was that the game was not quite rough enough.” Along with Pennock, the fullback was posthumously inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 1954.

HAUGHTON REMEMBERED

Finally, there was Haughton, who much to the relief of the student body signed a three-year extension to remain at Harvard through 1916. Prior to his hiring, it had been customary for schools to change head coaches every year or two, regardless of their record. Upon the contract’s expiration, Haughton served in World War I and in 1923 was named head coach at Columbia, a program that had been disbanded in 1905 following allegations of being too violent.  The coach died after suffering a heart attack on the Lions’ home field on October 27, 1924. He compiled a career record of 97-17-6 and 71-7-5 at Harvard—still the fourth most wins in Crimson history—and was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame as a coach in 1951.

Following Haughton’s death, Hardwick remarked that “I came to Harvard placing Mr. Haughton on a pedestal. He was the idol of a boy’s intense hero worship. I worked three years under that idol, and I left college even a greater disciple of, not ‘Mr. Haughton,’ but my close friend ‘P. D.’”

A white stone memorial—designed by the Boston firm Walker, Walker, and Kingsbury and sculpted by Mary O. Bowditch for a cost of $10,000—was erected outside the Locker Building at Soldier’s Field on November 19, 1927. The largest tablet featured the coach, in uniform, in a characteristic crouch with one knee on the ground, and beneath it were the words “In Memory of Percy Duncan Haughton.”  The other two panels featured a punter and a tackler.

Dean L.B.R. Briggs, Class of 1876, Chairman of the Athletic Committee during Haughton’s tenure at Harvard, summed up his eulogy with a belief that is still widely held today: “I believe that those who know football regard Percy Haughton as one of the greatest coaches that the game has seen.”

—Staff writer Scott A. Sherman can be reached at ssherman13@college.harvard.edu.