The road to Antioch is hard to find: indeed, it would seem as if the
trustees had specially secluded it,--made interest, perhaps, with the
railroads to prevent the cars from stopping there, for the special
protection of the young people! From Cincinnati, we wind along the
lovely banks of the little Miami, through nurseries and hillside
terraces, through groves of oak and sycamore, and birch-trees stretching
out white, bewildered arms. Pigs are quietly grazing in the woods, as if
it were their nature to "chew the cud;" there are groups of tiny
powder-houses, made small, the people say, because they are "expected to
blow up once a fortnight"! Heavy loads of corn and hay wind along the
terraced roads; a gay-looking negro on horseback takes off his hat; two
children are pulling a boat across the Miami; there are no houses along
the shore, only safe-looking spits of sand jut out here and there; and,
at last, having come the ten miles from Xenia in a private carriage, we
roll on to Antioch Plain. I had heard that the college was on high land;
so I was a little disappointed to find it on a table among the hills,
which did not command any marvellous extent of country. As for the
college, it has evidently made its toilet for posterity. I could not get
a glimpse of its two fine towers and broad front, till I wandered down
to the railroad track, and looked at it from the vicinity of a lime-kiln
and a sorghum-mill. For some unknown reason, it turned its back on the
village in the beginning, and pranks its beauty in full sight of that
cursive population which travels by steam.
Yellow Springs is a pretty little place to live in,--an economical one,
certainly, for there isn't a thing in it to buy; and, when we have
looked at two or three little churches and Judge Mills's pretty park, we
are quite content to go through the grounds of the Yellow Springs House,
look down on the glen from the quaint, long, low southern piazza of the
Neff House, and finally get home as we may, by log-bridges, and banks of
moss, over which the walking-fern is striding. Ten miles of hedge, made
of the Osage orange, surround the Neff Place, which a wealthy family in
Cincinnati refuse to sell; but which is destined, in the far future, for
a large hotel. In the little glen,--where a beautiful cascade falls, and
tortuous rapids sputter and foam, and tiny fish dart up and down, and
great graceful trees bend to shelter us,--we may find all the beauty of
the White-Mountain passes. Two or three miles off, there are persimmons
in the woods, and fossils under the soil; and, on Saturdays, pleasant
parties go with Mr. Orton or Professor Clarke to find them. The "Yellow
Spring," which gives the town its name, is of course largely
impregnated with iron. It is imprisoned in a stone tank, which it colors
brown; and it changes a rusty iron ladle to gold. It is a tonic; and,
not far from the spot where it bubbles up, there is a pretty
summer-house, where those who come to drink may sit and rest. As we
walked toward it, a little brown rabbit skipped across the grass. From
every high point in the glen, there are lovely views of the college and
town.
Dr. Hosmer has just introduced a change into the Sunday-morning service
at the chapel. He has taken the service-book of James Freeman Clarke,
and, between reading and chanting, devised a matin service of great
beauty. No musical professors could have done greater credit to the
first performance than the students themselves. It made the bare,
whitewashed walls of the chapel seem as sacred as a grand cathedral.
I did not look into the books at Antioch. Those at Oberlin I thoroughly
investigated; and the strict economy the figures showed would
distinguish honorably any institution in any land. But, as far as I can
judge from oral testimony, the fees of the students and the interest of
the endowment fund here amount to $13,000, and do not _quite_ provide
for the annual expenses. There is, therefore, no fund for _repairs_,
none for _scientific instruments_, none for the _library_; and, while
the president and professors feel that a further endowment will sometime
be needed,--nay, is needed _now_,--yet they also feel that they must
show what work Antioch can do, before they ask further sympathy. Still,
there are some few things which the wise prudence of the trustees, the
thoughtfulness of loving friends, the surplus of full purses, can, in a
quiet way, provide.
The pupils at Antioch make no complaint of their commons this year; yet
it is undeniable that they should be better than they are. The commons
are provided at Oberlin and Antioch in the same way; that is, by a
family entirely disconnected with the college. At Oberlin, the table
presents an attractive appearance. It would be grateful to any hungry
person, and board is furnished at $3 a week. At Antioch, a pleasant and
friendly woman has charge of things; but no great variety seems to be
offered, and the board is $3.50 per week. Both these prices seem to me,
after investigating Western markets, _starvation prices_; but it is
evident, that, on this point, we have something to learn from Oberlin.
If the president and faculty of Antioch should visit Oberlin, where they
would be most kindly received, they would see, perhaps, that the
difficulty lies in the cooking-apparatus. Oberlin offers a first-rate
kitchen; Antioch, one very far behind what most of the pupils would find
at home. I suppose no one will deny, that, when the average social
standing of the students in these Western colleges is considered, it is
desirable that they should find at the college-table a standard of
cooking and serving which is a little in advance of that to which they
have been used. The food may be plain and without variety, but it should
be thoroughly nice and inviting of its kind. The ladies of any one of
our city churches might undertake to furnish the kitchen at Antioch, and
they could not have a better model than the kitchen at Oberlin. To
advance the standard over previous experience, is, I think, a necessary
part of education here.
Still farther, cisterns should be built in the upper stories of the
dormitories, into which the waste-water may run from the roofs. Pipes
leading downward from this should supply one sink on each story, and
this sink should also carry away the waste-water from the rooms. A large
"dumb waiter"--I use the word for want of a better--should be provided
in each dormitory to carry up wood, and carry down ashes and dry dirt. I
have already shown that this is done at Oberlin; and, if cisterns are
not possible, then reservoirs and a forcing-pump should take their
place.
There are but two dormitories,--one for men, and one for women; and when
we consider, that, beside studying, the pupils have to help themselves
by sawing wood and other manual labor, it will be acknowledged, that to
bring their own wood and water up two or three flights of stairs is more
than we can ask of them.
The library and scientific apparatus are very deficient for present
needs. In the scientific department, some means of protecting the
apparatus already obtained is greatly wanted. Microscopes are needed
for scientific investigation. In the library, a translation of the
"Mécanique Céleste," modern scientific books generally, Smith's "Bible
Dictionary," and the leading works on English literature, are required.
Trench, Müller, Taine, have not yet found their way to Yellow
Springs.[47]
It seems to me, that, before Antioch, there now opens a great career. If
her trustees and her faculty will but keep faith in her methods, surely
we are bound to help them to the utmost. The personal friends of Dr.
Hosmer also, who realize the nobility of that enthusiasm which made him
willing to accept such a post while "looking towards sunset," ought, I
think, to make the position as easy as possible, by anticipating these
practical wants. Five hundred dollars would supply the most necessary
books to the library.
But, if Oberlin does such noble work, what need of Antioch? Why should
we strive to sustain an institution at such a continual cost, if one
already established is competent to do its work? Let us get a glimpse of
what Antioch can do, and then we shall be better able to answer these
questions. In the first place, we are in possession of buildings worth
now $180,000, and of twenty acres of land, worth $10,000. The land was a
donation, in the beginning, from Judge Mills, the great man of the
village, who perhaps fancied that a growing college would increase the
value of his real estate; and for this property, worth now nearly
$200,000, we gave $50,000. For its proper appropriation we are
responsible; and I think we have work enough to do, though Oberlin has
saved the North-west, and though her new halls should be crowded thrice
over.
In the first place, Antioch is to be a missionary station. No one who
has not travelled through the West can imagine the thirst of the people
for spiritual food. I think those who know least about it are the
Western ministers themselves. I always found them sceptical about it,
when I spoke to them; and I could not very well say, what I was
sometimes compelled to feel, "It is because you could never satisfy this
want, that it does not show itself to you." To Dr. Hosmer, however, with
his warm, genial soul, with a temper conciliatory and discreet, the
people are willing to speak. Beside the daily college prayers, there are
services in the chapel on Sunday at half-past eight in the morning, and
at three in the afternoon. During the last year, the audiences at the
Sunday preaching had dwindled to a score: since Dr. Hosmer's arrival, it
averages about two hundred and fifty; and, of course, townspeople, who
come to the chapel regularly, grow in sympathy with the college and its
purposes. Dr. Hosmer has promised to supply the Christian pulpit in
Yellow Springs for eight Sundays, which gives Mr. McConnell liberty to
do missionary work for the same time. The little town of Troy has some
difficulty in keeping a minister. Dr. Hosmer promises him four Sundays,
that he may go away, and so add to his substance. He goes also himself
to the Universalist church in Columbus; and at Cleveland, where about
twenty Unitarian families are hoping sometime to have a church, he
promises them an occasional service if they will pay the expenses of
transit. Professor Hosmer, whose preaching is thoroughly appreciated in
the neighborhood, has also preached in Marietta; and either he or his
father stands ready to supply Mr. Mayo's pulpit when that gentleman
undertakes the missionary work, which has already made him one of the
most useful of the Western clergy.
Who are the people that have this college in charge? What sort of pupils
are likely to benefit by the education we offer? If we know a little
about them, perhaps it will kindle a warmer interest. Beside the two
Hosmers whom we know, there is Dr. Craig, Professor Weston and his wife,
Professor Clarke, and Mr. Orton, with four teachers under him in the
preparatory department. Dr. Craig was the man whom Horace Mann thought
it constituted an era in his life to know. For fifteen years he was the
minister of the church at Blooming Grove, Orange County, N.Y., a church
which has existed for more than a hundred years without a creed, and
which is governed by seven deacons and seven deaconesses. Professor
Weston and his wife divide the classical department between them, having
both taken the degree of A.M. at Oberlin.
Professor Clarke is the son of the famous Methodist minister in Chicago.
He was professor of mathematics in Michigan University, and went abroad
for two years to fit himself more thoroughly for his work. The war
called him home; he raised a company, was made major, and, being taken
prisoner, was thrown into Libby. There, he says, one of our Boston boys
saved his life by sharing his supplies with him. He was removed to
Macon, and, while sharing all the horrible experience of the stockade,
succeeded in digging a tunnel, through which he would have escaped; but
some other prisoners doing the same thing, and the escape of one being
sure to lead to the detection of all, he waited honorably for the second
tunnel to be completed. Meanwhile he was removed to Charleston, and put
under Gilmore's fire, where, at last, his exchange was effected. When
Professor Clarke left Michigan University to come to Antioch, he made a
sacrifice born of the true missionary spirit. May we share his spirit
sufficiently to strengthen his hands in the new work! Mr. Orton is most
admirably fitted to his department, and has an excellent corps of
teachers under him. Among them is one, the daughter of a mechanic, that
went from Worcester to assist in building the college, who got her own
education at Antioch by alternate years of study and teaching, having to
earn one year what she spent the next. A more exquisite model school
than that connected with the college, I never saw.
Among the older pupils of Antioch is the Christian minister of Yellow
Springs, the Mr. McConnell of whom I spoke, who may be called, if you
prefer it, a brigadier-general. He was born humbly, in Ohio, had only
the rudest schooling, was a Christian minister before he was twenty, and
married before he was twenty-one. He was preaching in Troy when the
first gun was fired at Sumter. He raised a company at once, and got a
lieutenant's commission. In actual service, he was soon made a captain.
He kept with General Grant throughout his Western campaign, and returned
from Pittsburg Landing the colonel of his regiment; then re-enlisted for
the war, went back to the front, kept with the Western army, and, at the
close of the war, was mustered out a brigadier-general. He did signal
service in many battles, but especially before Nashville, where his
brigade, assisted by a negro brigade, broke Hood's centre by a very
gallant charge. He went to Atlanta with Sherman, and could never weary
of telling me how the Sanitary and Educational Commission followed the
army with their fostering care, ever present, it seemed to him, like the
blood which supplies with food the minutest nervous fibre of the human
frame. When he returned, the people would have carried him into
Congress; but he declined. Then they offered to make him a judge of
probate, with a salary of $2,500 a year; but he told them he had chosen
the pulpit for his field: and now, preaching in Yellow Springs, he comes
into the college classes, and, hoping to take his degree, keeps
faithfully all the college rules.
Still another pupil, now thirty years old, raised a company for the war.
He was at the fall of Vicksburg, had not been at school since he was ten
years old, but made $1,800 by buying and selling grain, and brought it
here to carry him through college. When I cross-examined him in Greek
history, I found he had read Grote! The teacher of the village school at
Yellow Springs has had a more vexatious experience. He had finished his
third year at Antioch, when he went into the army. He became an aid to
three Western generals successively, and was with Grant when Lee
surrendered. He saved $800 of his pay to carry him through his last
college year, but had only been home a few days when a burglar stole it!
He has taken the village school for $900 this year, studies hard; and
the faculty have voted, that, when he can stand a certain examination,
he shall take his degree.
It is for such students that Antioch is open. One-third of her present
pupils are women. Pleasant levees are held once a fortnight at the
president's house, where the two sexes mingle gracefully. The girls have
a literary society, which they call the Crescent; the young men, two
societies, the Star and the Adelphian. The Star and the Crescent have
fitted up one room under the gambrel very tastefully. The Adelphians
rival them. The folding-doors in the hall of the latter society open
into a pretty alcove, where a good library is beginning. These two rooms
are the only glimpse of tasteful, home-like comfort that one gets in any
public room at Antioch. I attended the meetings of the three societies.
Before the Crescents, I heard a graceful little essay on "A Rail-fence,"
from a girl of fifteen. From the Stars, I heard a discussion of Roman
funerals. The Adelphians discussed the possibility of obeying an
unrighteous law, very much as I have heard their elders do in Congress.
Each society had a censor, who took notes of papers and discussions, and
quietly criticised each performance when it ended. It was noticeable,
that the performances of the women, making due allowance for age and
opportunity, were far more graceful and able than those of the men, and
a most valuable help to the latter. Coming home one night from the
Adelphians, I found at Dr. Hosmer's a Southern refugee, who is educating
her children at Antioch.
Sometime before the war, Mrs. Palmer and her husband went to East
Tennessee from New York, carrying with them $50,000. I think they must
have opened a store; for she spoke of having on hand a valuable stock of
millinery and medicines. Being Northerners, they were constantly
threatened, and at last consented to barricade their house. Three times
the rebels stole their horse, a colt only two years old; and three times
Mrs. Palmer's perseverance got it back. At last they surrounded the
house at night, firing on the peaceable inmates; and Mr. Palmer,
attempting to escape over the roof, got three bullets in his arm. The
next day the party came back, robbed the house, and burned up the
stores. The medicine was a great loss: there was no more within reach
for rebel or loyalist. Mrs. Palmer succeeded in hiding her meat and
meal. For eight days she and her family hid in the rocks, only venturing
back to the house at night to cook and eat a little food. One night,
when the poor wife was so employed, her feverish, half-delirious husband
followed her, and, in some way, attracted the attention of the enemy. A
terrible battle followed, and Mr. Palmer lay on the kitchen floor with
eight wounds in his body. When the malice of the rebels was spent, Mrs.
Palmer went out with her children, and called the cattle. By keeping
them between her and the house, she succeeded in getting her husband
into the woods. A Union man finally received and fed him; but it was
many days before his wounds could be dressed. She then escaped with her
children and the colt, on which they rode by turns. She had picked up
some of the ends of her burnt millinery, which she used to barter for
food as they went along. She came at last to an old schoolhouse, where
she lay down; and here she nursed her children through the measles.
Here, after many weeks, her husband came to see her, but was taken
prisoner as he crept away, and was sent to Libby. She saw many terrible
things while she lingered here: one of her neighbors had his bowels cut
out while he was still alive! When she started afresh, she had seven
hundred miles to travel before she reached Bardstown. One of her five
children ultimately died of the fatigue and hunger.
"How did you get food?" I asked.
"I prayed for it," she answered; "and I always felt sure of enough for
the hour."
"Who would shelter you?" I continued.
"I never lay out but one night," she answered. "I used to tell them,
wherever I went, that the Union soldiers must win in the end; that I was
going to them, and would report whoever used me ill. So they would let
me lie on the kitchen floor." At Bardstown, Morgan's men destroyed her
last thing; and then a United-States sutler found her, and carried her
to Louisville.
The children of many such women will hereafter seek Antioch. Let them
find there a generous provision.