Project Gutenberg's Charles Lewis Cocke, by William Robert Lee Smith This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Charles Lewis Cocke Founder of Hollins College Author: William Robert Lee Smith Release Date: October 6, 2011 [EBook #37636] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHARLES LEWIS COCKE *** Produced by Julia Neufeld, Roberta Staehlin, David Garcia and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) CHARLES LEWIS COCKE CHARLES LEWIS COCKE [Pg 1] CHARLES LEWIS COCKE FOUNDER OF HOLLINS COLLEGE BY W. R. L. SMITH, D.D. BOSTON RICHARD G. BADGER THE GORHAM PRESS Copyright, 1921, by Richard G. Badger All Rights Reserved Made in the United States of America The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. FOREWORD It will be obvious that this biography has been written in a passion of admiration and loyal love. Conscious of the eminent worthiness of its subject, the writer has felt no temptation to exceed the just limits of praise, or to violate the demands of a true sincerity. The effort has been to hold the record to a faithful presentation of the facts in a long and distinguished career. The singular unity of his life-work, localized on one spot of earth, has made the gathering of materials an easy task. An intimate and affectionate friendship of twenty-three years, is one of the author's invaluable sources. Then, abundant information was found in the minutes of the trustee meetings, the yearly catalogues, the college magazines, the occasional reminiscent speeches to students and the annual commencement address. One makes bold to say that he fears not the verdict of the older Hollins girls on this memoir. If it shall awaken hallowed memories and unseal the fount of tears; if it shall tighten the clasp of their heartstrings to dear old Hollins, its purpose will have been largely accomplished. W. R. L. Smith. CONTENTS page CHAPTER I The Early Years 21 [2] [3] [5] CHAPTER II Call of the Southwest 34 CHAPTER III Hollins Institute in Struggle and Growth 49 CHAPTER IV The Clearing Skies 63 CHAPTER V Expansion and Achievement 75 CHAPTER VI The President and his Girls 91 CHAPTER VII Commencements and Addresses 105 CHAPTER VIII Religious Enthusiasms and Activities 123 CHAPTER IX Characteristics 132 CHAPTER X His Comrades and Co-Workers 142 CHAPTER XI His Monument 159 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Charles Lewis Cocke Frontispiece facing page Charles Lewis Cocke and Susanna Virginia Pleasants, About 1840 30 The Valley Union Seminary, 1842-1852 36 The Female Seminary at Botetourt Springs, 1852-1855 46 Hollins Institute 60 Mrs. Charles L. Cocke 70 "Good Morning, 'Gyrls'" 92 Charles L. Cocke 132 Mrs. Charles L. Cocke 142 Mrs. Anne Hollins 150 John Hollins 154 Hollins College 160 INTRODUCTION This biographical sketch of Charles L. Cocke has been written with fine appreciation and sympathy. It brings before us an exceptionally strong man, who after years of struggle against discouragements realized, in large measure, the ideals of his early years. It is a story of heroic achievement that can not be read without emotion. Hollins College stands today as a fitting and permanent memorial of its founder's indomitable will and noble aims. But there was something still finer connected with his years of struggle and toil. Long before the end came, he had made the noblest achievement of human life, bringing from its disappointments and conflicts, not a cynical distrust of his fellow men, but a courageous, hopeful and invincible character of righteousness and love. He learned to look upon the tumultuous world with a serene and benignant spirit. It was my privilege for many years to serve as one of the chaplains of Hollins College. The hours spent in Mr. Cocke's office after the evening service are among my cherished memories. Our talk, often protracted till nearly midnight, turned [7] [9] [10] chiefly on educational, religious, and social subjects, which always made a strong appeal to his vigorous mind and earnest nature. He loved the truth; but in the expression of his opinions there was sometimes a delightful touch of exaggeration that lent a peculiar charm to his conversation. Beyond any man I have ever known he possessed the power to call forth noble sentiment and stimulate intellectual activity. This quality explains, in part at least, the loyal devotion of his co-workers and the grateful affection of his students. It made him a great teacher. It endowed him with a sort of divine right to leadership; it crowned him with the glory of perennial, unconscious beneficence. In the quality of his intellect he was distinctly Roman. By the law of resemblance he easily conjures up before our minds the dignified and sturdy personality of a Cato. Without the gifts of Attic versatility, his strong intellect and sound judgment set him apart for substantial practical achievement. We are fully warranted in believing that he would have won in any industrial or political field the same distinguished success that he achieved in education. The religion of the New Testament was a vital element in his character. Its dominant feature was not emotion but conscience. To him the call of duty was imperative and final. It was in obedience to this call that he entered upon his work at Hollins. The materialistic science of the latter half of the nineteenth century left him untouched. He recognized the Divine agency in the lives of men no less than in the destiny of nations. This profound and dominant faith habitually filled the future with hope, and imparted to him, as to all who cherish it, unfailing courage and strength. A massive intellect, supported by a deep sense of religious duty, made him an independent and fearless thinker. He had the force to break the trammels of tradition. With the vision of a true pioneer he saw the need of a better intellectual training for American women, and with the resourcefulness of a strong nature he led the way in its attainment. His aims and efforts were manifestations of real greatness. It is men of like vision and resourcefulness who are raised up from time to time to lead the forward movements of our race. It is no reproach to say that Mr. Cocke would hardly have been in full sympathy with the feminist movement of recent years. No man can live too far ahead of his time. But he helped to prepare the way for it by his pioneer insistence on a richer culture and larger opportunities for women; and it may justly be said that no other man in Virginia or the South has a higher claim on their recognition and gratitude. He was fortunate to recognize in his early manhood his vocation as a pioneer educator. The call was clear, and his consecration complete. Few men have ever labored with greater singleness of purpose. As Tennyson dedicated his life to poetry and Darwin to science, so Mr. Cocke gave himself to the work of a nobler culture for the women of Virginia and later of our whole country. Without this singleness of aim, which gave unity to his efforts for more than fifty years, he could not have brought his great life-task to a triumphant conclusion. But his great mind and heart were not so utterly absorbed in this work as to exclude from his thought and effort other important interests. Before the present movement for social betterment had been inaugurated, he labored unselfishly for the material and moral improvement of his community and State. He was interested in the establishment of schools for boys. He was a recognized leader in the extension of the Baptist Church in Southwestern Virginia, and his foresight and wise counsel contributed in no small measure to the vigorous life and growth of that denomination. Yet he was not narrowly sectarian. His broad outlook on life welcomed every agency that contributed to moral and religious advancement. To his mind denominational differences of creed were of secondary importance as compared with the great fundamental agreement in the work of establishing the kingdom of God in the world. He cultivated friendly relations with all branches of the Christian Church, and invited their ministers from time to time to conduct services in the Hollins Chapel. His chief requirement was a helpful message supported by an upright life. He delighted, it seems to me, in what we might call intellectual athletics. He welcomed a disagreement of view, and enjoyed measuring strength in an argument. The enjoyment, I think, was independent of the outcome of the discussion; it was found in the pleasurable exercise of a vigorous brain. Defeat in argument yielded him scarcely less pleasure than did victory. The warmest discussion never ruffled in the slightest degree his self-possession and friendly courtesy. In the massiveness of his character he was exempt from the foibles of smaller natures. In his striving after truth he was unswayed in his judgment by petty prejudices. His broad benevolence and warm interest in the welfare of others shielded him from envy and jealousy. While sternly intolerant of wrong-doing, he was gently patient with the wrong- doer, being less anxious to punish than to reclaim. Though he was doubtless conscious of his strength, as are all truly great men, he was too sensible and honest to feel the inflation of egotism. His natural stately dignity forbade familiarity; but to those in need he was uniformly kind and helpful. It is the memory of his kindness and helpfulness that has enshrined his image in many hearts. The life of so rare a character deserves to be recorded in permanent form. It will thus stand as an inspiration and guide to others. As biographer Dr. Smith has performed his task worthily; and I esteem it a privilege to write this introduction and pay this tribute of admiration and affection to one of the greatest men I have known. F. V. N. Painter. Salem, Va., September 2, 1920. [11] [12] [13] [14] CHRONOLOGY 1820 February 21 Charles L. Cocke was born at Edgehill, King William County, Va. 1836 He entered Richmond College. 1838 He entered Columbian College at Washington, D. C. 1840 Graduated from Columbian College, and accepted a position at Richmond College. 1840 On December 31 married Susanna Virginia Pleasants, of Henrico County. 1840-1846 Connected with Richmond College. 1845 Called to take charge of "Valley Union Seminary," a co- educational school, Roanoke County, Va., at Botetourt Springs. 1846 June 23 arrived at Botetourt Springs to take charge of the school. 1846 July 1 the first session under Mr. Cocke's superintendence opened with 36 boys and 27 girls. 1852 Board of Trustees discontinued the department for boys. 1852 July 20 the session 1852-'53 opened for girls only, under the name The Female Seminary at Botetourt Springs, Va., Mr. Cocke, Principal, Registration 81 girls. 1853 September 4 the session of 1853-'54 opened with increased faculty and registration of 150 girls. [15] [16] 1855 Mr. and Mrs. John Hollins of Lynchburg, Va., donated funds to the institution, and in their Honor the name was changed to Hollins Institute. 1855-'61 Average attendance 106. 1861-'65 Doors not closed during this period. Average attendance 134. 1865-'71 Average attendance 73. 1871-1900 Buildings, enlarged to accommodate 225 students. 1901 May 4 Charles L. Cocke died. CHARLES LEWIS COCKE FOUNDER OF HOLLINS COLLEGE I think I would rather have written a great biography than a great book of any other sort, as I would have rather painted a great portrait than any other kind of picture. Phillips Brooks. CHARLES LEWIS COCKE CHAPTER I THE EARLY YEARS 1820-1846 In the library at Hollins College is a life-size portrait of a great Virginian. In its presence, you instantly feel the spell of a [17] [19] [20] [21] commanding personality. The figure is tall, graceful, well proportioned, and in the right hand is a diploma, the proper symbol of the vocation of a College President. The attitude exactly fits the supreme moment on Commencement day. In the face, the artist has cunningly gathered the insignia of fine mental quality, and pictured the forces of achieving manhood. The ample brow looks the home of ideality and enterprise, the aquiline nose hints endurance and tireless energy. Napoleon selected as his marshals men marked by the prominence of this feature. That jaw and chin and those thin lips speak virility and determination. In the glance of those blue, eagle eyes, are intimations of keen intensity and lightning force, yet subduable to all the moods of tenderness and love. Truly, this is a notably fine presentation in art of one of the noblest Virginians of the 19th century. This man was marked for high performance, and would have won distinction in any sphere of honorable endeavor. "Excelsior" was the divine imprimatur stamped on his nature. His call was to leadership, and his response enrolled him among the pioneers in the cause of the higher education of women in the South. The educational ideals of Thomas Jefferson became the inspiration of his youth, and with astonishing tenacity and unity of purpose he pursued them until he worked out Hollins College, making it one of the rare gems of American culture. His work stimulated the founding of other like institutions in Virginia and the South. Thus he builded wiser than he knew. He wrought well in his generation, and a multitude of splendid women throughout the whole nation will revere his name forever. It was a brilliant battle he fought against hostile conditions and appalling odds. He was cast in heroic mold. In fancy we can see him bearing his banner up the heights, his eyes flashing strange fires, and every energy of soul and body exerted to its utmost. The name of this remarkable man is Charles Lewis Cocke, and there stands the faithful, impressive likeness of him in the library building at Hollins College. It is the story of this man that we want to know, and to that end the following pages are written. It is the right of every child to be born of honorable parentage. The life of Charles L. Cocke began with a good heredity. He was born February 21, 1820, at Edgehill, the home of his father, James Cocke, in King William County, Virginia. Elizabeth Fox was the maiden name of his mother. Both family names run back a number of generations, the old English ancestors having come to Virginia in the 17th century. Richard Cocke bought a home with three thousand acres, and from 1644 to 1654 represented Henrico in the House of Burgesses. John Fox located in York County and then in Gloucester, in the years 1660 to 1680. From this worthy stock descended the subject of this biography. Charles Lewis was the oldest son of the family at Edgehill. Religious reverence and intelligence dwelt in the home, and correct views of conduct were expressed in parental example. The Baptist faith was an important part of his inheritance, and at Beulah Church near by his childhood received its first impressions of divine worship. By singular good fortune, the benign influence of the eloquent pastor and friend, the Rev. Dr. Andrew Broaddus, fell on the family and the growing lad. In the atmosphere of this happy home, and in the moral securities and privileges of a good country community, the early years were passed. The boy's mind was alert, and both on the farm and in the local schools, gave hints of latent powers. The growing youth demonstrated his managerial capacity one year by taking charge of a kinsman's farm and raising, as he said, "the finest crop it had ever borne." Self-reliance and the power of bringing things to pass early became distinguishing qualities. The father was proud of the promise of his son, and when the boy was about fifteen years of age, gave him his choice of a career on the farm or in some professional calling. The father could hardly have been surprised at the prompt decision in favor of a profession. Richmond College was then new, and under the presidency of the Rev. Dr. Robert Ryland, was prosecuting its work in the suburbs of the Capital City. The College was only twenty miles distant from Edgehill and soon our ambitious youth was diligently pursuing his studies within its walls. No special genius betrayed itself, but there was the same bent of assiduous application which was on display when the abundant crop was raised. Dr. Ryland was not slow in discovering the promising traits in the new student, and a mutual interest sprang up between them. The astute President saw in the boy the prophecy of stalwart young manhood, just such a factor as might some day be of value to himself in the labors of the Institution. The interest grew into intimacy, and there were occasional confidential interchanges respecting the boy's hopes and aspirations. The time of attendance on the College classes was drawing to a close, when one day the Doctor suggested to him a further course at Columbian College, a Baptist institution of higher learning in Washington City. The thought enlisted the youth's enthusiasm, but he urged the lack of funds needful for such a scheme. Then the generous friend replied: "I will furnish that, and you can repay me at your convenience." Here was a compliment from a wise educator which, though it tended to no inflation of conceit, put a glowing stimulus in a young man's soul. No true man or woman ever fails to give gratitude and honor to those who quickened and encouraged aspiration in the days of youth. Impressed deeply by the kindly offer, and stirred by leaping ambition, Charles Lewis Cocke left the College and returned to his home. At once he communicated to his father the new visions and hopes. The father, pleased at the hunger of the son for larger knowledge, said: "You shall go to Columbian College; but we will not draw on the generosity of Dr. Ryland. I will supply the means." Charles was then about eighteen years of age. The boy Daniel Webster was riding one day in a buggy with his father, when at a certain point of the conversation the father said: "Son, I have decided to send you to Dartmouth College." The announcement fell like music on the aspiring soul, and the only response the delighted son could make was to lean his head on his father's bosom and burst into tears. Edgehill knew an emotion like that in the summer of 1838. Pursuant to plans for early departure to Washington, James Cocke and his son drove to Richmond in a buggy. While the reins were in the father's hands, the horse went at a sluggish gait. Presently they were passed to the son, when instantly the drudging steed pricked up his ears and struck a new stride. [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] "You have been whipping this horse," exclaimed the surprised father. "No," was the reply, "I have never whipped him, but he knows what I want him to do." Long years afterward, this little incident was told by the President of Hollins Institute to his graduating class, with the reflection, that he had learned that the best movements in horses and in people can be secured without whipping. The new student was welcomed into Columbian College and there pursued the courses of study with unabating enthusiasm. Naturally the environment of the national Capital served as a wholesome stimulus to all his faculties. The good habits of his life suffered no deterioration and the fine qualities of his mind went on maturing rapidly. It was during this period that deepening religious impressions resulted in an open confession of faith, and in union with a Baptist church in the city. He was baptized in the Potomac river. Closely following his twentieth birthday came his graduation with the degree of M.A. It is to be regretted that no letters written to his parents during this season have been preserved. Fortunately, two written to his friends do survive. One, sent to his college chum, Mr. A. B. Clark, of Richmond, Virginia, bears date of May 22, 1839: "I walk at the usual times alone, spending the moments mostly in meditation on serious subjects. My thoughts are more apt to turn this way than formerly. I write two lessons per day in Greek and read but little in other books." Something far more significant appears in the second letter which was addressed to a kinswoman in the neighborhood of Edgehill. In that he declared a settled purpose, "To devote my life to the higher education of women in the South, which I consider one of our greatest needs. In this decision, my promised wife concurs." What special influences led the college boy to such a majestic consecration, we have no means of discovering. That it is a mark of uncommon maturity and breadth of intelligent conception, there can be no question. The benignant spirit of Democracy was becoming atmospheric and the intellectual emancipation of woman steadily and slowly pressed to the fore. Ancient prejudices and stupidities were beginning reluctantly to yield. Not one of the elder ages had ever grasped the thought of woman's mental, social and political equality with her brothers. Here and there a lone voice had been lifted in her behalf to fall on deaf ears and unresponsive hearts. The world habit of thought laughed the innovation out of court and the bondage of general ignorance remained unbroken. But the imperial idea of the dignity and worth of the human individual could not be forever submerged. Its persistent pressure loosened the bonds of tradition and began to breach the walls of custom. Modern freedom wrought itself into the minds of men, and thinkers announced the harbinger of a new era. Practice, as usual, lagged behind theory, and one hundred years ago when Charles L. Cocke was born, advantages for the culture of daughters were inferior to those afforded the sons. That this inequality should have impressed the mind of a young collegian, shows uncommon susceptibility to social needs and sacred human rights. A rare young manhood came to expression when he dedicated himself to the new ideal. He did not originate the ideal. It was borne to him in the expansive thought of the time. His shining merit is in the fact that he made the early resolve to be an agent in bringing in the better day for the liberal education of young women. It was in the Spring of 1840 that his college work closed and he received the degree of Master of Arts. Before the Finals of that session, there was some important correspondence between himself and Doctor Ryland. The good President had startled Charles with the flattering proposition that he should become a member of the Faculty of Richmond College, as assistant teacher in Mathematics and as manager of the dining hall. The college was then trying to combine training in agriculture with the usual curriculum, an experiment that was soon abandoned. The young man was too genuinely modest to fancy himself equipped for so responsible a position. He faced the issue frankly, however, and much influenced by confidence in the judgment of Doctor Ryland, decided to accept. Leaving Columbian College he hastened to witness the closing exercises at Richmond College. It must have seemed almost comical to see a practically beardless youngster put in charge of some of the vitally important duties of the Institution. There he was, without a touch of egotism of self-consciousness, quiet of manner, and yet with something about him that looked resourceful, unapologetic, and unafraid. You may be sure that the boys looked at him curiously, and asked themselves, "Can he do it?" Of course there were cautious conservatives who doubted the competency of the new incumbent. This tribe is always with us. However, there was ground of assurance in the known confidence of Doctor Ryland, and nothing remained but to wait and see its vindication. No misgivings troubled the Doctor himself. Without bluster or consequential airs, the assistant professor made prompt acquaintance with his tasks, and discharged them with an efficiency that left nothing to be desired. He was on his mettle, conscious of the questioning curiosity centered upon himself. For the first time in his life he stood before the footlights of public observation and expectation. Leadership had thrust its burdens on him early and had imposed its first critical test. [27] [28] [29] [30] CHARLES LEWIS COCKE AND SUSANNA VIRGINIA PLEASANTS ABOUT 1840 A survey of the affairs of the dining hall convinced him that a change of methods was necessary, and with pure audacity he introduced them. At the opening of the fall session of 1840 he presented the boys with a new bill of fare. To their astonishment he gave them oysters, finding them as cheap as other meats. He gave them raisins and plum pudding for dessert. He scored instant success, and the boys' heartstrings were in his hands. Without incurring increased expense, the new manager secured a new satisfaction with the dining hall. Noiselessly other needed changes were made and the voice of the growler ceased to be heard. At the helm was an officer who knew college boys, and the college spirit was noticeably improved. Like competency appeared in the duties of the class room. He could teach mathematics and he did. Before the Commencement in 1841, Charles L. Cocke was recognized as a distinct contribution to the life of the Institution. Here is a young professor who does not propose to rest content with inadequate facilities and outworn methods. His whole nature cries for improvement and for better ways of doing things. What a boon to many a school and college would such a man be. Good Doctor Ryland's face wore a smile which plainly said, "I told you so." His judgment of capacity and character was sufficiently justified. The young comrade was to him an object of ever- deepening interest and their relations steadily ripened into sincere and loving friendship. Now, the President knew that his assistant was romantically entangled with an affair of the heart. He also knew the fair young woman who was responsible for that state of things. Miss Susanna V. Pleasants lived five miles north of Richmond in a lovely old Virginia home which bore the Indian name of "Picquenocque." Knowing that a matrimonial alliance was imminent, the Doctor, one day, ventured to ask Charles about the date of the coming event. He warmly approved the match and was exuberant in congratulations. As a matter of fact he was hoping that the marriage would tend to fix his assistant more firmly in Richmond College. This genial intrusion into sacred privacy was not resented, but Charles found it inconvenient to confide. The question was asked in November, and at that very moment the issue to be decided between the sweethearts was whether the ceremony should come off on the last day of December, or the first of January following. That problem enabled the young gentleman to make a complete but truthful evasion. His honest reply was: "I know neither the day, nor the month, nor the year." There the matter ended, and the mystified Doctor relapsed into silence. Later the mighty problem was solved and the marriage was solemnized on the last day of 1840. Doctor Ryland, officiating, beamed on the happy pair and found great merriment in the perfectly true, but dextrously non-committal answer, made just six weeks before. The bride and groom had not quite reached their twenty-first birthdays when they began that remarkable human pilgrimage which was to endure a little more than sixty years. The angels of domestic peace and joy sang benediction all the way. That home life is a glorious memory now, but its lesson is more precious than gold. An astronomer discerned a luminous star. On closer inspection he found it, not single but binary. The twin stars joined their radiance, which came streaming down in one glorious pencil of light. Such a star beams forever in the Hollins firmament. CHAPTER II CALL OF THE SOUTHWEST 1846-1856 The attraction of the Blue Ridge and Alleghany mountains was a fact freely confessed by eastern Virginians. Even before the Revolutionary War the section, now known as the Tazewell country, became an Eldorado, and thitherward set the streams of migration. Along the beautiful valleys and in the hearts of the hills lay the possibilities of fabulous wealth. Through the early decades of the nineteenth century this fascination continued, population increased, centers of culture were formed, and men of enterprise began to think of a railroad from Lynchburg, Virginia, to East Tennessee. Christian evangelism was active, but education lagged. There were fine brains in the Southwest, but the means of culture [31] [32] [33] [34] were deficient. The land called for the school teacher. Slowly the providential workings were preparing a place for a young professor in Richmond College, who as yet had no dream of it. Seven miles north of the City of Roanoke, Carvin's creek pours down out of the mountains into the wonderful Roanoke Valley. Right in the aperture of the hills where it emerges, was discovered a little sulphur spring whose properties suggested the establishment of a watering place. Accordingly, Mr. Johnston, a man of wealth from Richmond, bought a hundred acres and built a commodious brick hotel near the two springs, one limestone, the other sulphur. This was somewhere near the year 1815. A race course was made one of the additional attractions. The place took the name of "Botetourt Springs," and at once leaped into fame as a health resort. The turnpike from the west passed immediately in front of the hotel and between the springs, which are one hundred yards apart. General Andrew Jackson stopped here for entertainment on his way to and from Washington City. General Lafayette, on his last visit to the United States, was an honored guest. Touring south, he came out of his way to pay respect to his old friend, Mr. Johnston. Interesting legends from the old pioneer days gathered round the spot. One bold adventurer, named Carvin, was said to have built a rock castle on a crag near the springs and to have had many hair-breadth escapes from Indians and wild beasts. All that is certainly known is, that he left his name on the little creek that passes nearby. A huge, isolated mountain, in the shape of an elephant, rises just one mile to the north, and tradition says that cowardly slackers of the Revolutionary period made it a hiding place. They mended pots, plates and pans, and so were called "tinkers." Thus it comes that the beautiful mountain wears a homely name and perpetuates an unworthy memory. Botetourt Springs was popular and well patronized by seekers for health and pleasure, but the death of Mr. Johnston brought a crisis, and in 1840 the property was on the market. The administrator, Col. George P. Tayloe, offered it to the highest bidder. Just at this time a Baptist minister, the Rev. Mr. Bradley, from New York State, had come into the neighborhood, seeking a home and work. Being an intelligent man and especially interested in education, he saw that this property was capable of being converted to the uses of a school. His zeal and industry soon materialized in the organization of the "Valley Union Education Society," and that body purchased Botetourt Springs with promises to pay. THE VALLEY UNION SEMINARY, 1842-1852 THE VALLEY UNION SEMINARY, 1842-1852 The buildings were easily adaptable to the purposes in hand. The old hotel, consisting of a basement and two stories, provided a dining hall, a chapel, and thirty-one rooms. Then, there were seven smaller buildings with two to four rooms each. These latter were ranged on opposite sides of the front yard, at right angles to the main building. In the fall of 1842 the "Valley Union Seminary" was launched, under encouraging conditions, with Mr. Bradley at the head. The patronage was large and the prospects alluring at the outset, but soon the relations of the Principal with his faculty and students became unhappy. He was a worthy, irreproachable man, and intellectually competent, but it seemed impossible for him to make tactful adjustments with the young Virginians. The management was changed, attendance was large, and the only cloud on the enterprise was the unpaid notes. The affairs of Mr. Johnston's estate must be wound up. The young Seminary in its third year was in the breakers, and looked disaster in the face. It was now in the spring of 1845. Deliverance must come speedily, or another dead school would pass into the abyss. In this critical hour, two or three students just returned from Richmond College said to members of the society: "We know a man who can handle your Seminary and make it go." Any remark that hinted at relief was more than welcomed by the trustees, who asked whom the students had in mind. "It is Professor Charles L. Cocke of Richmond College. He is only twenty-five years old but he has had five years' experience in teaching. He knows how to bring things to pass, and if your school can be pulled out of a hole, he is the man you want." Such was the homely but emphatic tribute of the college boys, and it did not pass unheeded. Propositions from the Society went promptly to Richmond, and the Professor was induced to come to the mountains to look the situation over. The Society was pleased with him, and he was impressed with the possibilities of the Seminary. The call of the great Southwest sounded in his ears and the visions of the things that may be, beckoned him on. The call was made in the spring of 1845. He would ponder it devoutly. [35] [36] [37] [38] Shall he break all the tender ties that bind him to his Tidewater home? Shall he sunder relations with Richmond College and bring grief to the heart of his devoted friend, Dr. Ryland? Shall he take his young wife and three little children into a rugged land, remote and destitute of the comforts they have known? Such questions voiced the negative, self-regarding view, and he asked himself: "Is not this Southwest a land of great promise and educational need? May not this be the providential arena for the realization of my fond dream of mental liberation for the daughters of Virginia and the South?" This noble speculation, still working, was hid away in his soul, vague and undefined. It would grow. This was the positive and unselfish view, and he knew it. "Yes, I will go," was the final settlement of the painful controversy. Like Abraham, he would go forth all unknowing, yet believing in the guidance of a divine wisdom. No, this young man was not the football of impulse. His decisions were the outcome of long deliberate thought. This was the most vital step of his life. He heard the voice of duty, that "stern daughter of God," and obeyed. He had an imaginative power which went, not to the uses of poetry, but to the practical problems of life. It was his habit to project his thought thirty years forward, deploying before him the reasonable developments of a growing civilization. In these forecasts, imagination did him a fine service. Here was the spring of those ceaseless demands for enlargement and improvement of facilities, which later marked his work as college president. The spring of 1846 is come; the six years of work in Richmond College are closed; the farewells are spoken; and Mr. Cocke journeys toward the sunset. It is a weary overland drive of five days in a carriage from Richmond to Botetourt Springs. Lofty "Tinker" salutes the pilgrims as they move up the highway, and now the vehicle stops in front of the old hotel, whose front yard is a wilderness of weeds. Mrs. Cocke's heart sinks within her as she looks on the inhospitable desolation. Ghosts of dilapidation and decay stretch out hands of welcome in sheer, grim mockery. The anguish in the young wife's heart is momentary. With a sublime courage, equal to that of her husband's, from that awful moment she goes smilingly with him to the task of preparing for the coming session. Unwittingly, they are laying the foundations of the noble Institution which, today, is a pride and joy to the state and nation. Little do they dream that before the closing of their toil, they will see girls from thirty states parading and singing on that outlandish front yard. "I'd rather walk with God in the night Than go alone by day." By a business arrangement with the trustees, Mr. Cocke had put into the treasury of the Society $1,500.00 of his own and his wife's money, to stay off the creditors. On the 23rd day of June, 1846, the session opened with the new Principal in charge. It was a new dignity, truly, but how precarious and involving what weight of responsibility! The young soldier is on the firing line with an independent command. He can hardly anticipate the leagued masses of trouble, disappointment and despair that lurk in the mountains, plotting his destruction. For the next twenty-five years we shall see the storms of battle break upon him, and we shall see his banner waving in victory to the shoutings of a multitude. The Principal is a born leader. He is resolute and confident without egotism; resourceful and wise without display. The Richmond College boys were right. Here is the man. However, the burden-bearing years must develop the fact. The first nine years will carry us through seasons of struggle and painful progress. With the outstanding facts of this period, it is the purpose of this chapter to deal. He was now the head of a co-educational Seminary, which from its inception was designed to be strictly benevolent in character. In ample proof is the fact that $45.00 paid the student's bill for tuition and board for five months. The school never made money, nor was that ever its end. The purpose of the founders was to put education in the reach of all who thirsted for it. Such was the generous basis of the enterprise. The small revenues thus realized, yielded the teachers pitifully inadequate reward, and made improvements practically impossible. You may be sure that good order was maintained and good lessons were required. From the start, Mr. Cocke's administration won popular confidence and approval. Soon after his coming he was announced to speak in the Baptist church in Big Lick (now the City of Roanoke), and a large audience was there to greet him. In the address he said, among other things, "I have come to Southwest Virginia to give my life to the cause of education, to spend and be spent in that work." A fine impression was made on the citizens, and on dismission a gentleman said to a lady: "That is the man to send your son to." Fifteen years later that boy was a Colonel in the Confederate army. This boy's older brother had told Mr. Cocke that Thomas was a bad boy, and had added, "If he does not behave, I hope you will thrash him." For two whole sessions the youth found himself seated at the table next to Mr. Cocke and the coffee pot. He was entrusted with messages here and there, and finally the boys began to say that Tom Lewis was Mr. Cocke's pet. Not so: that was his ingenious discipline. He could control horses and boys without whipping. In the long after years the Principal had no more faithful and devoted friend than Colonel Lewis. Once a group of older boys made some of the younger ones drunk. The offenders were promptly expelled, and nothing was done to the innocent victims. Other young men made angry threats, and their expulsion followed. Rebellion grew; a large body of the boys defiantly paraded the campus, making the situation ominous. The school was called to the chapel, the boys on one side and the girls on the other. The Principal fronted the boys and said: "I am the head of this school and I am going to run it. I have sent some disorderly students away, and if necessary I will send more. I will send every one of you home and start a new school, and if I can't run it I will give it up and go at some other business." The audience understood the tone of that voice and took warning from the gleam in the blue eyes. After that the incident was closed. His skill in dealing with mischievous boys is exhibited in another episode. Some of them felt that school life was dull without a little spice of adventure, so in pure fun they sallied forth at night to visit the neighbors' orchards, and even to take unwarranted liberties with their chicken roosts. Complaints came to the Principal, who at once sought a private [39] [40] [41] [42] [43] interview with the culprits. He talked to them kindly, yet with earnest protestations against such pranks. He knew they were not thieves, far from it, but they should not take people's property that had cost labor and care. After duly moralizing on the case, he closed the interview with the following burst of magnanimity: "Now boys, if hereafter some irresistible impulse is on you to prowl, spare the neighbors and plunder my poultry yard." What human heart but a school boy's could resist an appeal like that? One night not long thereafter, Mrs. Cocke heard curious noises on the back premises. Mr. Cocke slipped out in the darkness and readily took in the situation. The following night he stood at the window of one of the boys' cottages and saw the preliminaries looking to a midnight carnival on roast duck. Just as the feast was ready to begin, there was a tap at the door. Hospitality invited entrance, when in stepped Mr. Cocke! To his friendly inquiries they responded that they were about to dispose of a savory meal and coolly invited the visitor to share it, which he as coolly proceeded to do. The party was jolly, and though all knew that nobody was deceived, the fact was not betrayed by one look or word. Mr. Cocke bowed himself out with a pleasant good night, and the mystified marauders went to bed. Depredations ceased, and the boys' admiration of that midnight diplomacy was unconcealed. When a boy was guilty of some offense, not mean, but mischievous, his case was stated in the presence of the school, and the roaring laughter that followed was sufficient correction. There was not a case of disobedience among the girls in the years 1846-'52, but they would keep their windows open. The boys lifted hats in passing, and were rewarded with pleased and winning glances. Often while sitting by the open window, a thoughtful look covered one side of a girl's face, while on the other side, looking window-ward, played a bewitching smile. In those days was established the yearly October visit to the top of Tinker. The day of the excursion was a "secret between Charles and the Lord," as Mrs. Cocke once humorously said to the inquiring girls. Arriving on the summit, and viewing the landscape over, suddenly an apple would fall in the midst, as from the sky. Where did it come from? The girls knew, and the boys knew. The boys had gone before and hidden behind the rocks and brush. Then the mountain scenery lost its charm, and a romantic search for flowers began. The halls of the Seminary filled to their capacity and the Principal pleaded for more room. Alas, the Trustees had no money, and the school's revenue was a sacrifice to the benevolent principle of minimum rates. The Institution he wanted could come only through increased equipment and accommodations. There the young Principal was, the sport of harsh conditions. One balm came to his heart in the timely sensible praise of the Trustees. In their meeting, January 10, 1851, they said in formal resolution: "We cannot speak in terms too high of the untiring diligence of the Principal and his assistants in maintaining judicious discipline, and in the prosecution of their responsible duties." His efforts for notable success had a double motive. First, he quite properly wanted to convince all of his capacity for educational work. Second, by the overcrowded conditions, he wanted to force an issue on the Trustees respecting the future policy of the school. The accommodations were palpably insufficient, and as there was no possibility of increasing them, what should be done? The Principal knew what to do. He boldly advised a radical change: dismiss the male department and convert the Seminary into a school for girls. To his immense delight, the proposition was accepted. The new order looked like the opening of an approach to the goal of ambitions born in his college days. His loyal interest in the education of young men was not abated, but the dream of the higher education of women became a passion. This important decision was made in the spring of 1852, and thus a ten years co-educational school, in which Mr. Cocke had labored for six prosperous years, came to a close. With mingled feelings of grateful hope and keen anxiety, he now faced a golden opportunity. He enjoyed the distinction of being the head of the first chartered school for girls in Virginia. The fall session of 1852 opened with eighty-one pupils. That of the fall of 1853, with one hundred and fifty. The wisdom of the radical change was fully justified. It was a time of radiant satisfaction and jubilant hope. THE FEMALE SEMINARY AT BOTETOURT SPRINGS, 1852-1855 THE FEMALE SEMINARY AT BOTETOURT SPRINGS, 1852-1855 But it was now that the battle with austere conditions and scant equipment became the torment of his mind. The Trustees could give no material aid, and popular interest in education was too feeble to proffer financial help. It is simple truth to say that on this vestibule of his great enterprise, the gravest doubts and trepidations of his whole career assailed him. In moods of depression the heroic man feared that he had attempted the impossible. Was he unnerved or unstrung? Not for one minute. In these black days he fronted his task with the resourcefulness of an uncommon [44] [45] [46] [47] manhood. The stamina of his nature came to expression in a way that surprised even himself. He made imploring appeals to friends who were well to do in this world's goods. A good providence put him in touch with two noble spirits, Mr. John Hollins and his wife, of Lynchburg, Virginia, members of his own denomination. Mr. Hollins presented the Seminary with a gift of $5,000 cash, and then the daylight began to break. The good man proposed as a condition of his gift that the old management by an Education Society and its appointed Trustees must give way to a board of self- perpetuating Trustees. To all concerned the proposition seemed wise and just, and it was so ordered. It was then generously agreed that the name of the Institution should be changed, and that henceforth it should be known as "Hollins Institute." To Mr. Cocke and the dissolving Society, this appeared to be a compliment well deserved by the man and his wife who had saved the life of the school. The transfer of all the property of the Valley Union Education Society to the Trustees of Hollins Institute was made in March, 1855. Thus in the first nine years of his incumbency, Mr. Cocke saw two revisions of the original charter granted in January, 1844. By the first revision in 1852, the Seminary was made a school for girls. By the second, in December, 1855, the name of the Institution was changed, the old management was abolished, and its functions put into the hands of a self-perpetuating Board of Trustees. No friction arose; all was harmony. The old régime passed, but its personnel remained steadfast. In all the stress and tribulation of the past years, Mr. Cocke had been the central bolt that held the structure intact. Around his single heroic personality gathered all the forces that made possible the perpetuity of the Institution. His reward had now come, and a blessed assurance threw its foregleams on the future. He was now in his thirty-sixth year and athrill with that full health and masculine energy that was his blessing to the end of his life. CHAPTER III HOLLINS INSTITUTE IN STRUGGLE AND GROWTH 1855-1870 That was a high day, in the summer of 1855, when Hollins Institute flung its banner to the breeze. A munificent gift, a new régime and a new name put fresh enthusiasm into the Institution, and the gladness of hope into the hearts of all its friends. You have noticed how these joyous effects always flow from new deals and revisions of plans. A better day has dawned, bright visions float in the brain of Mr. Cocke, and the blue mountains seem to hail him with congratulation. The human heart would famish but for these fountains that break out in the midst of weary, toiling years. Economic conditions are improving in the Southwest. The Kanawha Canal now connects Richmond with Buchanan, a village just twenty miles away. The Virginia and Tennessee Railroad has been built (1852), supplying quick communication with the outside world; and the macadamized turnpike has been built from Buchanan to the west, passing within a few hundred yards of the School. The general conditions were never so cheering, nor was the outlook ever so bright. Some necessary changes have been made by the Trustees in internal affairs. The rates of board and tuition are moderately increased, and Mr. Cocke is put in charge of all departments, with authority to select his teachers and to fix their salaries. The new Board of Trustees knows the qualities and capacities of the Principal, and from this time forth they give him confidence and almost unlimited powers. Charles L. Cocke, not yet thirty-six years of age, had attained enviable distinction in the educational ranks of his native State. He will justify the faith of his friends. The Hollins gift of $5,000 was put to work. The East Building with thirty-eight rooms, was projected, and by January, 1857, completed at a cost of $12,000. Alas, calamity crashed upon the s...