_. . ”,4. ..‘,H _v. A ‘ ‘ ‘.. ‘ ‘ “ ‘ ' ‘ “ _v "2.2“"? .4 ..‘.,‘ .., ,1” ~ - ‘ ‘ 4 e ‘ ‘ , ‘ . . - . , '- , .. , ‘_ A ‘ . A - l" ‘ " ‘ ‘ A HiSTORY 0F SELECTED CRITICAL FACTORS AND BARRIERS IN YHE DEVELOPMENT OF BLACK HIGHER EDUCATmN Dissertation for the Degree of Ph. D. MICHIGAN STATE UNIVERSITY FOREST H. C. HOLMAN, JR. 1975 ' ML"! LIB R A R 1" Michigan Sta 3 ' U15. versi :y llllllllllllllllllllllll‘llllllllzll’lllll D L» thesis entitled A HISTORY OF SELECTED mITICAL FACTORS AND BARRIERS IN THE’ DEVELOPMENT OF BLACK HIGHER EDUCATION 0 presented by Forest 11. C. Holman, Jr. has been accepted towards fulfillment of the requirements for Ph.D. my“. in Education 3 ‘9 at... l- 9 Date Febzruargz l 975 0-7639 3’ .__~~.._ ,6. , stefii‘“ " Y 04 #02102”) "9 3'31"; and de. | . ' ‘ .Ixfi“. ‘ Q P. r...:.:S IS 54?qu new." "Fpl. . ‘9‘: n1. -: :55 .0 ‘5‘. H 3: u . ,- E .- .te :7e59rye I- I‘ I“. ’ in" u" v' |C inst‘t' .‘ “Sta?! and 2'31: had to 5“,: ABSTRACT A HISTORY OF SELECTED CRITICAL FACTORS AND BARRIERS IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF BLACK HIGHER EDUCATION by Forest H. C. Holman, Jr. ' The origin and development of Black higher education in the United States is directly related to the existence of slavery in the South dating 1660 to 1865, and to the caste system which replaced it, as well as the presence of White racism which has prevailed within the socioeconomic institutions of America since its beginning. The history and development of Black higher education is unique in that it has had to surpass all odds in order to serve its citizenry and survive. This so-called uniqueness can best be described as an American dilemma. This uniqueness embodies all of the factors and principles of American political thought. The major research for this study is comprised of government reports. studies. and legislation. It is also replete with the records and proceedings of professional education organizations, societies, and governing boards. Extensive use has been made of the records and . l ,. .‘.,. 9 ;‘ Al" 5.2:: w: "a'v’r E w” r: Mb $0 "'5 i ‘ x imnnewse lone-1x O'Hle .c‘f- nefimsfik' mtwwata' f‘ [In ’ ' ' fl,rannes Forest H. C. Holman, Jr. [noceedings othhe major philanthropic foundations. I also found man- uscript collections and personal papers to have been of invaluable assistance. Extensive use has also been made of newspaper accounts, inter-' views. journals and the many books in print which were most beneficial in opening new vistas of knowledge and understanding of the history of Black education. All of these sources have been indispensable in en- abling me to arrive at a number of conclusions concerning the history of Black higher education. A From my research, I have arrived at several significant con- clusions. They are as follows: l) As a result of overcoming their normal school image Black col- leges are recognized today as strong and viable institutions of higher learning providing a needed service to the education of young Black Americans. 2) Without the financial resources of the Jeanes, Rosenwald, Rockefeller and Carnegie foundations, Black institutions would not exist as we know them today. 3) Black colleges and universities have historically provided a unique service in the education of Black Americans in terms of the unique ability to understand the many academic weaknesses 2 '1 ‘ c 0p.- ..1‘.: :g‘ .2" ar . .5. I U ‘V nO' I...A . F ' .u‘ i I I“, 'c P: we! 3...» a - a s i :g: 3'. s': HE") ~gd ; :l.“ '3' the fur -. ‘ :flu' o... I. p r ‘ .‘u ‘:a 'e)ilt 3.43%: ”TE-"WI . F ' "’I| b «I’ :‘ The TQTTCC : Forest H. C. Holman, Jr. which Black students usually develop during their high school careers . 4) That certain Black educators along with certain White politi- cians and philanthropists conspired, during the period of re- construction. to permanently restrict the growth of Black col- leges and universities; consequently, today Black colleges and universities. on the whole, provide only a fairly good back- ground for the further study of the major areas of academic study. 5) That as a result of their unique histories. Black colleges have passed through these distinct periods of development: a) The Formative Period: 1850-1920 b) The Period of Southern Liberalism: 1920-l945 c) The Period of Desegregation and Reevaluation: 1955-1964. The research for the future shows that the Black colleges are beginning to reapproach these aforementioned periods of their history for virtu- ally the same reasons. 6) As a result of an illustrious history of excellence on the part of the Black scholar, the young Black scholar finds that in order to legitimize his existence within academia, he must be 3 ‘ . u . D F. 1261.9- «'5 I .‘O, eras 3'5 3'3' ~ ‘g:‘ the Tate 56 1.3. k V 9 ‘0 l I (I) ‘3' f I , ( I pig-'2; ~.15 extS' ..r':':s r: 2&2 sixes a "-"2' UV dd “I: ‘ :- I'- ti. m'v.‘ :hle 7) Forest H. C. Holman, Jr. willing to excel his forebears in terms of developing new theories and providing new ways and means to solve the prob- lems of the late twentieth century. Finally, the Black college is still standing, educating and justifying its existence to a new generation of supporters and critics who marvel at its ability to do so with so few resources as compared to those of the major White universi- ties who enjoy the status of fully adequate financial support. "A I" “J. 3" (I, -" a I A HISTORY OF SELECTED CRITICAL FACTORS AND BARRIERS IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF BLACK HIGHER EDUCATION By Forest H. C. Holman, Jr. A DISSERTATION Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY College of Education 1975 ' ‘5. .1. VO‘ ©Copyri ght by FOREST H. C. HOLMAN. JR. 1975 ii Lt'ezfatian for ' riszhzfariy its: are a to Ease ‘IP I, A: a ' DEDICATION This dissertation is dedicated to my wife, .Mrs. Beverly Ann Holman, in sincere and loving appreciation for her many years of sacrifice and scholarly inspiration which, above all, has enabled me to have reached this major milestone in my professional career. iii 2:5: “re to ex: .AA Q... a 2-": 5T D " ’J ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I would like to express my thanks to Dr. J. G. Moore, Chairman lof’my doctoral committee, and to the other members of my committee, Professors Robert L. Green, Marvin Grandstaff, and Justin Kestenbaum, whose critical suggestions on organization and content were most bene- ficial in making this effort a most scholarly and intellectually en- riching experience. Also, a supreme debt of gratitude is warmly extended to my wife, Beverly, and my son, Karriem, for their encouragement, motivation, criticism, and patient understanding while this dissertation was being written. To my parents, Mr. & Mrs. Forest Holman, Sr., for their many years of sacrifice; and also for the many scholarly stimulating discus- sions pursuant to this work, and for their faith and encouragement. My appreciation to the staffs of the Michigan State University Library, the University of Michigan Library, the Michigan State Law Library, the State of Alabama Archives, and the Tuskegee Institute Archives who were most helpful and to the many senior citizens and iv alumae of Black institutions of higher learning whose conversations were most informational. Forest H. C. Holman, Jr. East Lansing, Michigan August, l974 ‘o’ upgn..-II " "“"\ ;.\;' a 4 a . ~"~ a'a'.. . ’ F .. ‘ E 15.: e ‘ I 55"-‘ . - 1‘ - lie :3: I 4 p ‘ v ‘e irapls“ A a.” ‘ Va :5 T‘ Li V" ’r a ‘\ u AC‘GC: PA \, 1.- *‘.|~t§ 1“ : v. TABLE OF CONTENTS Page INTRODUCTION .......................... 1 Chapter I. HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE OF THE BLACK COLLEGE ...... 8 Land Grant ..................... 8 The Establishment of Black State Land-Grant Colleges ............. T7 The Establishment of Black Private Land-Grant Colleges ............. 20 The Founding of Hampton Institute and Howard University .............. 63 The Transition in Black Education ......... 67 A Change in Southern Politics ........... 70 The Legal Containment of Black People's Civil Liberties ............... 72 The Advance of Black Education ........... 76 II. THE SOUTHERN EDUCATION CONFERENCES ........... 80 The Capon Springs Conference ............ 93 vi "i’N'S 'C"’ 3- i i i n‘" ‘ .- . a fl-"""| T...‘ N-Fl- ‘ ;.. .-. m-«v ... . .OAAR'f l"' 3‘ \II v I "s. ‘u'sv .... 4 I a , g D \.;IQ‘I .n ' KL cv.~-Ii - I b a . g. I‘l’l“fifl I 3-‘ "Uv r...) O D ' ‘ ' ¥ ‘13" I ’ urbh - 0 PH i‘l’O Q. .n. ’- ..... . K . ‘ L. * 3“" .5- I ‘5'"? :n' .5 '5'. .5 5U“... I. ‘ l: V':‘_Uai .c' he Tessie “:53, ii A; .’ . .9 17339:. "I I. \ i». N "i 5 .‘r‘ 5‘45“: r- .4 I. 'i' l " I P \ JsfligK Sch-V q I v Lie iidck r, I h D'iii‘lca' ‘. 1, 'OT Jade, TABLE OF CONTENTS (cont'd. ) Chapter Page III. SOUTHERN COOPERATION AND NORTHERN LIBERAL PHILANTHROPIC ACCOMMODATION ............. 120 Special Funds for Special Education ........ 125 Financing Black Rural Schools and Colleges: The Special Educational Program ......... 135 IV. SEPARATE BLACK EDUCATION ................ l45 Separate Education Based on Color ......... 147 An Unequal School System .............. 162 A System of Education in Subtle Rebellion ..... l69 V. THE BLACK SCHOLAR'S RELATIONSHIP TO THE BLACK COMMUNITY 175 Black Higher Education: The Washington-DuBois Controversy ........ l8O Racism in Academia ................. 188 The Emergence of Black Scholars .......... l96 VI. THE BLACK COLLEGE: TRENDS AND PROSPECTS FOR THE BLACK SCHOLAR .................. 232 The Black College and University .......... 256 A Practical Approach to Curricular Designs for Undergraduates. . . . i ............ 266 vii “,3. ”'0 'u i 6" ”0.10. 0 sa\ 7 S wrevvai ' . . I . .n .a... A -. .OJUU. dr- . Ic-. " ‘0‘. "' ltl‘uSO o ’- - ‘;p0i‘- .carj TABLE OF CONTENTS (c0nt'd.) Chapter Page New Types of Knowledge for the Black.College. . . . 268 Aesthetics ..................... 270 Socio-Political Institutions ............ 275 The Family ................... 276 The Church ................... 277 Education ................... 278 Politics .................... 279 Scientific and Technical Development (Research) . . 280 CONCLUSION ........................... 285 BIBLIOGRAPHY .......................... 289 viii 3. . pause Q‘ 2'" gr. I" . .n‘ no ipOA ‘M” " st‘l If. “V 5 a» h .3... y.- ' A‘ uo‘l 0.2'6 1S n5. re. :‘rk afl plou'nr I :0 a. sue-u» u 1 to. 00.9‘ “‘ ' E' ). ' 3's "I I A: E‘r - o 0 .. 3e fact a..“‘ .p o . 2 Q ‘6'. ‘~‘ W it it.“ a. h. '1: ‘ M‘ I it i dertatg" “ :2. H - V'Url hr ‘5. “w. ”'C "U “APP; V " e'- :3" INTRODUCTION The purpose of this study is to look at the genesis and background of Black American education and to find out how it, in fact, evolved into that of higher education.‘ Thefreason for the fact that there is not a sufficient amount of studies on hand con- cerning Black education is that there has not been a sufficient number of scholars willing to search the archives. My purpose was to ferret out the facts and to put them into some type of sensible perspective, to which any serious minded student of hfistory'and 'philosophy of education could refer for purposes of learning and research. .Given the immense interest and enthusiasm expressed on the part of many professors and students over the past ten (TO) years regarding Black education, it seemed worthwhile that such a task should be undertaken. in searching through many libraries, it was a found that there was an ample sdpply of primary sources on the part of Black education which enabled me in factually identifying those factors and barriers pursuant to the development of Black higher education. i O $1...." a" \.r."' av.- t I’ . b ' - if? 1'3"}..5 ‘3'? Er “QQ.. . PAH P‘ :o. : v? 55"e a i g. ‘ I :m»: '5 «when 2 .b- 9?. I ' *"U' 3 I "In" :Et":‘.':.'s we 5: P 3 ' -'-'E 3w re:e*t‘ tetra" siflis i “I :L-""A o u :N ”‘3, Q ' ‘ vu' \‘ . "'31!"- This 5'de is “991 ate with extensive discussion of the de- velopment 01’ Black Education. Inclusive are the nefarious activi- ties of Southern and Northern White and Black politicians who con- spired with various Northern philanthropists to design, structure, and determine the scope and future‘ of Black education. Also in- cluded are the delimiting and restricting factors which limited the overall growth and development of the Black college professor. These-restrictions were so rigid and dictatorial until many Black scholars have only recently been able to publish their research plus market their skills on the open academic market. This study also deals with a broadly based specific chrono- logical analysis of how various factors and business affected the historical perspective of Black education. Not only are these fac- tors and barriers discussed but also are personalities, dates, in- stitutions, and particular events which have had some lasting effect on the development of Black education. In order to have performed a study such as this, it was necessary to look at the following: 1. Personal papers 2. Tax records 3. Plantation records 4. Congressional documents E. Sir-f -e C:“ * 2.:iic 5:5: 5. 231455‘2' PsiTart'r: u .. S:ee:tes Letters . h '-'u-. 2. rer _; .3 I} r . ' ' . II :‘ ?ahdi:J I ’ s I “3°.Ptes ‘9: J‘9 u --,,...~ C. " 5‘ _ ‘v‘hu - G . . ~3 {*9 a "u . . \ g”. N " “'9“ 13 e .5 519:! was t ‘7’ . K. h‘:. ‘- dsUSSlC"! 0‘ P J? n . . . . ‘ e "’2‘ ‘q ('5': 5. Residential documents 6. Supreme court cases and decisions 7. Public school board minutes 8. Commission minutes 9. Philanthropic records of foundations lo. Speeches ll. Letters 12. Periodicals 13. Trustee board minutes l4. Faculty minutes Other resources include numerous miscellaneous documents from indi- vidual speeches to the minutes of various regional and national con- ventions pertinent to education and Black peeple. The study was basically limited in that its scope was inclu- sive of Black higher education as a whole and not the specific dis- cuSsion and analysis of one particular institution. It was felt that for my purposes, it was better to be broadly specific rather than to be totally specific. Mereover, it was believed that to look at the history of Black education in the broader scope of its total development would provide the reader with a much clearer view of the overall discussion of Black education. 0n the whole, it is believed that the primary sources uti- lized were very beneficial in that it was possible to gain a much . . O "' 4 .J or; a ‘_ 7"."- ' .- .- Io. ' ‘ r =2"?! me I r..-‘ F..:. . 22:? Ire ;‘ .es " I ti .5 ,u;‘ I :oa or 'IN U! .‘5 ‘ u we. ”.. ‘ R " . ' e 3". r. “0-. 3 ‘ p;‘-:Ocn'z PA". - '“"o u I 5' O ‘0... '. ‘01- b‘ll . clearer idea of what actually happened and who was responsible for the various actions taken in the many decisions which were made. Moreover, use of the primary sources provided many different in- sights which compelled a re-analysis of many of the writers' views for the sake of scholarly clarity and accuracy. Chapter One gives a discussion of the historical persective of the Black College inclusive of the political ramifications per- taining to Black land grant colleges. Chapter Two deals with the Southern educational conferences which were mainly attended by White politicians, educators, and philanthropists who decided the struc- ture, scope, and future of Black higher education which has been the primary factors of Black educational and scholarly restrictions. Chapter Three is devoted to the processes of philanthropic accommodations and cooperation between the North and the South. Chapter Four provides a discussion 0f the separateness of Black edu- cation; that is, the meaning, idea,'and intent of segregated educa- tion. Chapter Five provides a look at the Black scholars' relation- ship to that of the Black Community and how they have emerged as a concrete and viable force along the lines of achieving professional and scholastic legitimacy. Chapter Six gives trends and prospects for the Black college vis-a-vis the Black scholar. Finally, Chapter Seven discusses scientific and technical developments in the Black ‘..n .. ex "5'1" '91.”- " a ,. V I , a r' “-5 ".00 'r I i 9“" f." .5 .J 3 . '9' “3: . cv-‘ are 5";3 a!" ‘53.. 4'. |-‘ ":5 eg’r‘i'g in ‘.' are :1 few I’- gszas ‘3: :azk as :‘z'; é'eas :‘eai‘. u; “1‘":5“ and _:*‘ college as they relate to the theoretical and practical work world of Twentieth Century America. Upon careful analysis, any of these seven chapters can open new vistas for the serious-minded student of Black American educa- tion, who does not fear to tread the vast area of unresearched docu- ments found in most, if not all; of the various Black institutions of higher learning in the United States. Also, in most communities where there are many individuals who were students at these Black colleges as far back as 1900, who can provide valuable insights into the many areas dealt with in this volume. This study was limited by the historical and philosophical discussion of various factors and personalities who contributed to the many occurrences and outcomes of what is referred to today as the Black college andfor university. The study of a specific institution and/or personality was not done here due to-the fact that an expansive empirical analysis was not the writer's intent. This study indicates that there is a peculiar relationship between the Black scholar and the White academic community regarding the acceptance of the legitimacy of Black scholars; discussion is devoted to the fact that Black scholars were never intended to be fully accepted into the larger academic community. Further study and controlled statistical analysis should point out the various attitudes, feelings, and ideas many Americans, r 5v; “Huge-raf- Cfitu'b. b ‘ I’n'li .lE TI". 15 D I. .u “ "IE fir-4‘; \. £94 ‘I’ ' uEt‘Jpz. 3- . Rug .T as :‘ ' b "43"3‘: - am- w. acst \. ‘1': $15: as .’.e h'a 3 Jq I \s 4. "‘3‘:- wS QC ‘ '12-. ' "-t' ‘ I "T . . s- J‘s Black and White, have concerning the ability of a Black scholar to objectively lildul ge in the practice of scholarship. Much more in- sight can be provided as to why there is still a tremendous paucity of Black scholars in all areas of "scholastic endeavor at the college and university level, as far asfa'culty rank, tenure, and research grants are concerned. A well structured longitudinal study might well provide us with valuable information from which a frontal attack upon this problem can be launched. Finally, further study and statistical analysis of what actually occurred in specific cities and States, with chronological specificity, would be most helpful in explaining why those with suf- ficient economic and political power could decide how Black educa- tion would be structuEed and administered. Most students of Black educational history are aware of the beginnings of Black colleges but we now need to know more about the socio-economic impact which segregated education has had on this nation from an historical per- .spective. The findings documented in this study also need further study and investigation, for instance, into the political side of this question as it relates to local, state, and federal legislative discussions and acts which in the main, actually impeded rather than accelerated the growth and development of Black education. Studies of the sort mentioned above are very crucial and necessary for the well being of the academic community and the 12's ssz‘ety a 1'. a . t utter a: ' I - 0.. 'qu'o IQ ‘ .3”; and a... n: 5,515 of e:. society 35 a Whole, if we intend to move responsibility toward making this society a truly open one with the notion that every individual. no matter what his limitations, can excel as far as his inclinations and abilities will allow within the confines of the American system of education. V'P."'-|‘ "“’ ., . b'\r’ m. " .4. l.-~.'~ ~ CHAPTER I HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE OF THE BLACK COLLEGE Land'Grant America's colleges and universities founded for Black people have historically been the central institutions in an isolated system of education developed explicitly to serve the Black minority. This system of Black higher education was developed very late--almost a century after the United States declared its independence.1 To give an accurate account of the history of Black colleges, it is necessary to discuss the organization of land-grant institu- tions in general, why they were organized, and what provisions were made concerning their financial support and operations.2 The most important event in higher education during the second American revolution occurred during the Civil War, although 1The Carnegie Commission on Higher Education, From Isolation to Mainstream, Problems of the Colleges Founded for Negroes (New York: McGraw-Hill a Co., February, 1971), p. 5. 2Clyde L. Orr, An Analytical Study of the Conference of Presidents of Negro Land-Grant Colleges (Frankfort: Council on Cooperative College Projects, 1959), p. 8. 8 - Q ' rt... ’. ‘3‘ .z . o '~E eSOVU' ‘ o 0 Q :: :‘ WW .3. «"3 “f "E ";.FA ‘- I" ' .- -~ ~ x ‘2. States .1'. 3“] l a- ' Vat \- ‘33 fires of ..- 5 I. a G. A - ‘="’ J! grid at. ' ‘5' r- . v.2, t'e 1‘52 it is a clear illustration of’the democratic pressure of the revolu- tionary period preceding the war. "In December, 1857, Congressman Justin S. Merrill, of Vermont, introduced a bill to grant public lands for the establishment of colleges of agricultural and mechan- ical arts. He argued that CongreSS'had the constitutional right to dispose of federal lands, pointing to the more than 25 million acres granted to the railroads, and to land grants for general education in all the-newstates.3 Up until June 30, 1857, the federal government had granted 67,736,572 acres of land to the states and territories for schools and universities. Although no one questioned the constitutionality of these grants, Morrill claimed that the advance of the nation de- pended on encouraging useful knowledge among farmers and mechanics to enlarge the nation's productive powers. He felt further that: There is no class of our community of whom we may be so justly proud as our mechanics . . . . But they snatch their education, such as it is, from the crevices be- tween labor and sleep . . . . Our country relies upon them to do the handiwork of the nation. Let us, then, furnish the means . . . to acquire culture, skill and efficiency. " Ne have schools to teach the art of man-slaying and to make masters of "deep-throated engines" of war; and shall we not have schools to teach men the way to feed, clothe, and enlighten the great brotherhood of man? 3Ibid.. p. 8. flhg_§gggressional Globe, Vol. 27, Part 2 (1858), pp. 1692-97. a. b. o, at: a ‘soC-I ‘&U U ' I? .u.. p ..'I“- r? it 9‘" 3‘ .be S tD- 3, TB" SIP“ :,.. I‘. v\ u. "- ..€ ’ o.. o \ c re"): “ " DOA. 10 After considerableIdeb'ate‘over amendments, a substitute bill which Merrill had presented fOr the one which came from the Committee on Public Lands was passed by a close 105 to lOO vote. _ The Senate Comittee on Public Lands reported a bill with no recomnendation. and action was delayed on it until the spring of l859. When it did come up for debate, the sectional interests were well illustrated by the arguments on the bill. SenatOr Henry M. Rice, of Minnesota, an independent, "stand on your own feet" type of Westerner, argued the constitutibnal issue and warned that giving one state income from the sale of lands in another would disturb the har- mony now existing between them--a tragically amusing statement con- sidering the strife that was already tearing the nation apart! Ignoring the fact that the federal government was already giving land for seminaries of higher learning to new states, including his own, Rice asked: If we give lands to states for colleges . . . how long will it be before they will ask aid for every object, and come to rely entirely upon the General Government even for the expenses of their own, until'they will have but a shadow of sovereignty left? . . . If you wish to establish agricul- tural colleges give to each man a college of his own in the shape of one hundred and sixty acres of land, where he and his children can learn to make it yield . . . but do not give lands to the states to enable them to educate the sons of the wealthy at the expense of the public. We want to fancy farmers; we want to fancy mechanics.5 51bid., Vol. 28, Part I (1859). pp. 711-713. p . I‘op-t'o;on I. ' -. ‘ - 0. .o .v 'd ,- . ‘ gm. 5‘ It. . ' 5‘ 3 - e 1-» .. :e ‘5‘ Q -J ‘ I :T':,..f . ' '33:" in ~..u ‘ . " G\‘ar -. .“' ;., In; ‘ " l’SG S -- a: u ‘ "5 If; .4 VJ ‘."‘.F-‘ o. . V' a '5 " 'rt e-‘ ~ ~ 9'. N’.. ‘5. ‘au. ' ‘I :10 s I . ‘i ‘ u’f“‘ ‘ b "C“: 1 SI. ‘ :af"‘~_‘ .: .‘K‘ :‘. ‘ ~ A I‘- a g r . F O ' "‘ I. .h a“. eu- :1"-A bfl-rc ‘V‘F. . . ’ q 'o “ .g d ll Senator James M. Mason, of Virginia, took the aristocrat's view that public money as aid would corrupt the morals of those who received “alms” from the federal government. He presented the tra- ditional states' rights position saying that the bill proposed: Using the public lands as a means of controlling the policy of state legislatures. It is misusing the prop- erty of the country in such a mode as to bring the appropriate functions of the state . . . under the dis- cretion of Congress by a controlling power; and it is doing it in the worst and most insidious form--by bribery. Mason then predicted that the logic of the bill could even- tually lead to the federal government's legislating what kind of schools states must have. If you have the right to u5e the public property . . . to establish agricultural colleges, cannot you establish a school system in each state for general pubposes of educa- tion? Would it not be in the power of a majority of Con— gress to fasten upon the southern states that peculiar system of free schools in the New England states which I believe would tend, I will not say to demoralize, but to destroy that peculiar character which I am happy to 6 believe belongs to the great maSS of the southern people. Mason's praise of Virginia's inadequate school system was immediately challenged by Senator James Harlan of Iowa: It may be that it is a blessing to Virginia that she is now more largely represented by adult white people who are unable to read and write, in pr0portion to her popu- lation, than any other state in the Union; it is a bles;- ing, however, that the people of my state do not covet. 6Ibid.. p. 720. 71bid., p. 774. ‘ P' o g '3': 3p .0 3 ' ' i a. ; ‘“ is": "'1" 5 '~ ‘ - . O , o .A 4' 1":\3‘.:I .E ‘7'] U ~ fan-.5": are ’55 ' .o ‘. II'E'TEFS. '.'"Ez-' 3 21:19.3: "3: 3"" J; A u . .3? -1 D-.. i O «y. . a: go , ‘.'2\§ . .1.. a a I'm. N... s; .' -‘ 3. . .59 ”3:5 8' § .- -. 3:5 ‘5 i y‘r“ \.’ 1 l :N 65‘. N .'.=t ‘* ‘- E K . n“ ‘ a. a ‘0 g. ’ I ' f M‘ L.- " .grl- I‘d. '. a ‘I 2 ,. M. l2 He went on to give a Jacksonian version of political essay- ist Robert Coram's "Enl ightenment‘Creed" that there would be no equal representation until farmers could get an education equal to that of lawyers and thus have the chance to be represented in govern- ment by farmers. Finally, he reminded the Virginia senator that the proposed law did not require Virginia to take advantage of the land grants if she did not wish to do so. The bill finally passed the Senate by a vote of 25-22, eighteen of the nays emanating from Southern senators. President Buchanan vetoed it, largely on constitutional grounds, and Senator Morrill was unable to get Congress to override the veto. After the election of President Lincoln, Morrill re-introduced his bill. It was first discussed in the Senate, with Senator Harlan's Committee on Public Lands according it the really only favorable com- mittee report it ever received in either house. Although most of the arguments were on its constitutionality, the issue of land specula- tion was raised'by shnators from the Western states. Senator Harlan pointed out that more than a billion acres of land were in the public domain, and that the grants preposed for agricultural and mechanical ’arts colleges would be only ten million, less than l percent of the total. One of Harlan's speeches particularly exemplified the common- man spirit, when he challenged the consciences of the senators. 2;. is a 2:12: 3‘!" -' *2 w“: E" z..'-.rc:o: 4-!- ”p \- :I : :05 '7 ‘ ' . ' a . VF ' ngq‘. :( | .e V I-’ . . .d' i553“! 3238 {yo-TEA ICC 1 .. ._. o}??? of t'e SITE... .0 does a? I " Coil. ..-.4 fin 9 I a :FCVV=' —.,.o :0»: ‘A' I?“ I I O 'Ui . :z.‘.:.,"fs‘.s of :2 an .-.-(..‘:r ‘FA' ~u...o-. A 50" . v: ‘- 6 c ..P'. ‘rca P. t’.=. 1-53'127‘: u.~ ‘2 milieu. '5 5... i l "I'. | o a verS‘A :II .. 'u a u _. avian “A 3"- ~ I. V ' r in ‘r- I3: en a. ‘ . . E 95‘].,' ' :x :37‘2‘, I Ii ana‘ . 5 'J“. ~ I 1 " G‘;d 1 - ‘a l!- “ I 3. h‘A‘A . i . “=th .. 5;€p.'g‘ ' I”: 54F; 3 U l3 This body is a body of lawyers. There are very few gentlemen here who are not professional lawyers. Here- to fore appropriations of land have been made for state universities. The proceeds of the sale of these lands have usually gone to educate the children of profes- sional men--men who are able to defray the expense of the education of their children away from home, in classical studies and in the learned professions. Here . . . a proposition is made to make an appropria- tion of lands for the education of the children of the agriculturists of the nation, and it meets with strena uous opposition from a body of lawyers.8 The bill passed in the Senate 32-7. In the House of Repre- sentatives, the Committee on Public Lands brought an unfavorable re- port, but with very little debate, and with the favorable action of the Senate as an example, the bill was passed, 90 to 25. On July 2, l862, President Lincoln signed it into law. Perhaps one reason the bill passed was that many of the Southern opponents were no longer in Congress. Another reason was that the new version provided for the schools to teach military tac- tics and the Union needed military officers badly. Undoubtedly one factor involved in the passage, even in the consideration of the bill, was the political force of the farmer and industrial worker in a social revolutionary age.9 81bid., Vol. 32. Part 3 (1862). 2629. 9Robert E. Potter, The Stream of American Education (New York: American Book Company, T967), p. 266. | "o. ‘g to tie \:. u p 4 5-0 7" 1.5 5.3.95 " ’ v. -": .,. :re ffic- 0'- 1:: 1 f0. 6: a yf::.d: ‘ - ‘ Div 00-: .54 ;:.E"Er 'UVZ‘ -1 be in? '0 n .‘,.P. p- s , a n, ."'l.‘ era's toe eai‘. :::-;p SO‘IEQO“; .- ‘2-"121 taMi-z 52" In 3‘ ' _ -.. t v 3a: 3;:: '=. 1' pres:r' :u u'. ... I- ~31 81;;23‘ . \: .=':- ‘0‘. b bl DUN vi. ' b "5 "E’y s~‘;.».~i I re funi t; u._ p ‘;u;, 5a! al‘ts’ - U; ..' '6 ”FITS c‘ ":h... H . _ 5-Ernd \~n " 3 c U P I O .90 1““ N.- 14 According to the Morrill Act of 1862, the federal government granted to the states 30,000 acres of land for each member of Con- gress, the income from the sale of which was to be invested in such manner as to: Constitute a perpetual fund3’the capital of which shall remain forever undiminished . . . and the interest of which shall be inviolably‘apprOpriated . . . to the en- dowment, support, and maintenance of at least one col- lege where the leading object shall be without exclud- ing other scientific and classiCal studies, and includ- ing military tactics, to teach such branches of learning as are related to agriculture and the mechanical arts in such a manner as the legislatures of the states may respectively prescribe, in order to promote the liberal and practical education of the industrial classes in the several pursuits and professions in life.10 This very significant gesture in federal aid to education virtually leaves all control to the state, requiring only that the interest on the fund be used to teach, in part, courses in agricul- ture, mechanical arts, and military tactics. The law expressly assigns the details of the colleges to the legislatures of the various states. It would seem that the manner in which these financial grants were administered, that the danger bf federal aid may be not too much control but too little, for many of the colleges which utilized the funds from these grants met only the letter of the law and not its 10The Congressional Globe, Vol. 32, Part 3 (l862), p. 2770. § , pg '32; MS ’1' u «as "Efe ' ’fl «4 I ...-' on PF. 2"". $.19». Uh‘ ' .u. .. ‘ -I' "'3': _"e 5 IbDOOQI ‘: :5, 2' was a 5' -na 0" 3'. ‘n S .‘y lb . "on I u L- 'éze'e'a‘ . d “_ 3‘11“. h ‘ ‘ 4; .21“; lr II. 15 spirit. where money was used by.already existing colleges, the practical courses were limited as much as possible and denied places of importance in the college. .In some colleges a single professor- ship covered all the agricultural, mechanical, and scientific studies. In others a single summer course met the technical require- ments of the law. In some states the fund was mismanaged so that little interest accrued and that which did accrue was often misappro- priated. The generally poor handling of the income resulted in these colleges soon being in such financial distress that Morrill, in l890, had to persuade Congress to provide supplementary grants, a step that was in itself a significant precedent in the practice of federal aid to education. I Because of the unsettled canditions during the war, the de- velopment of the "land grant" colleges did not begin until later, the law thus provided for encouragement to the growth of state uni- versities and the expansion of the curriculum in the direction of the practical and scientific courses in the period of conservative reaction which followed the war.]]' The passing of the first Morrill Act of 1862 was the culmina- tion of the movement to extend higher education and to provide nPotter, The Stream of American Education. PP. 266-67. 0 O t ‘ A ‘ r 3": 0" "1E .rm‘s . I- . . [I5 3’3 3f the “I a: .‘E ugi:&d S: 312? T5 Alt 1 rzxazzanze 3f 113 :‘r. m aimed 81’. T513535. and, I? hear Extrsit 3"‘;t‘1'. ~=~ z'l'ert of t 2%": 3“. er the f ~ ’53 «reed " '51:: of the “It? ‘ sta‘: n! and S’dn‘t “a H 5:"79. l'ld C 5. " ~“51's. Sore 3:3: .4 53;! rye; l M k“ '33 d“: ' i°f ccl‘. . .1“ 71"» .3: 16 colleges for the industrial classes. This agricultural educational movement was one of the great'epochemaking events in the educational history of the United States. Under this Act the states were given two years to express their acceptance of its provisions. At least one college was to be established within five years‘by“eath state accepting it. In 1864 the Act was amended extending the period for its acceptance an addi- tional two years, and, in 1866, a second amendment provided for another 3-year extension. This amendment also fixed the time for the establishment of the college by the state within a period of five years after the filing of its acceptance of the land grants. within a period of eight years after the passage of the first act, 37 states hadkegreed to accept and carry out its provisions for the establishment of the new type of college. After a state had accepted the act, the next step was to re- ceive the land grants from the federal government, dispose of the land or scrip, and create an endowment fund for the support of the institutions. Some states sold their land for less than $1.25 per acre and some received more than this amount. Therefore, the first Morrill Act was directly responsible for the creation of a nation- wide system of colleges maintained by public taxation and designed to democratize higher education and provide scientific and practical knowledge to the great mass of people. 2;: land-3"? 'III .. -:' '{DAsp-O 5‘ 6p ' ' ' ~ 6 V. v a ;" -.D‘-O F " -- . A a ‘ H '~ v. ' I I My . 3:? .at‘: VES . h F; 5..., . 17 Three Southern states (Alabama, Georgia, and North Carolina) organized both a White and Black callege of agriculture and mechanic arts and divided the annual income from the endowment received under the first Morrill Act between the two institutions, the purpose being to provide the new type of education to both races. -SubseqUent1y separate Black land-grant collges were organized in 14 other Southern states.12 The Establishment of the_§1ack State Land-Grant Collegg§_ As these Black land grant colleges grew and definite programs of stable and well-organized Curricula were developed, it became necessary to make new appeals for federal aid. “Mr. Morrill, who hadv sponsored the first Morrill Act as a representative in the U.S. House of Representatives, had now become a U.S. Senator from Vermont. In 1890 he introduced his seCOnd land-grant bill in the Senate which provided for the appropriation 0f $25,000 annually by the federal government from the proceeds of the sales of public lands for the support of the colleges. Under the terms of the measure the insti- tutions were to receive $15,000 in 1890 with an additional sum of 12U.S. Department of Interior, Office of Education, Survey of Land Grant Colleges and Universities (U.S. Government Printing Office, Hashington, 1930), pp. 5-8. P .DO3J4’- '.~-o . - )¢~-"" - .a no 0" 21.115 'EZ'E'TC I f"" ‘0' '5. w“: ”E t e »: .910. °M f..““ "fl .5 =.a|| I n '1'... ‘ ‘ ".8" .‘ I ’l h. “""1no£ \ 1‘ b o I . ! q a ' Mleu ‘. 'I.r_'. ..“. ...‘.." 1::53 ‘. . ‘ l d U a . ‘I 0.1.3‘vr 'es ‘F3 :5: . \A ‘5 JUut’E'P .3“ ‘O:.; - ”$.5ij .!... .h u :0 O. ~= .ctlies by Lf‘;§1 18 $1,000 each succeeding year for 10 years when the annual appropria- tion was to amount at $25,000. ’The law specifically provided that the federal funds were to be eXpended only for instruction in "agri- culture, the mechanic arts, the English language and the various branches of mathematical, physical, natural and economic sciences with special reference to their application to the industries of life and to the facilities for such’instruction."13 A particular feature of the bill was that there was to be no racial distinction between students in the college but that separate land-grant colleges for Negroes might be organized. The result of this provision was that Black land-grant colleges were established in all of the Southern states. The second Morrill Act, after being amended, unanimously passed the Senate in June, 1890, and the House of Representatives by a vote of 135 to 39 in August, 1890. It was signed in August of 1890 by President Benjamin Harrison.14 Additional financial support was given to the two Morrill acts from time to time by the passage of bills such as the Hatch 15 16 Act and the Adams Act. These acts were intended to provide more federal support to the land grant institutions. 135econd Morrill Act, 1890. ‘Sihe Hatch Act, 24. Stat. 440. usc Title 7. Sec. 361. Sub. a. ct seg. 16 14161.1. The Adams Act, 34, Stat. 63. A ‘1" 1'6 36’ ..wla ad ’1‘: .o-c '3: ga:':i - on! '0‘: "e S:':.;: ta '; to. same ‘.1 Eli $151.15 15'? 5:" ‘11 30:1 33.". ‘ ‘ 131.3“... MB : "I“. “:1“ S . 3%"- .- 19 Even though the evolution of the idea of extending higher education had gained tremendous support, women had been entirely omitted from the scheme. A demand was soon made that they be in- cluded in the program of the land-grant colleges. As early as 1875 the Iowa State Agricultural College was offering courses in cooking and sewing with some lectures on the chemistry of food and nutri- tion. Later, a general demand was made that women be admitted on the same status as men, and that instruction be provided to prepare them for home and domestic duties. The Smith-Lever Act of 191417 brought millions of people into direct contact with the land grant colleges (Black and White) by pro- viding extension work for the large number of people desirous of an education but unable to reside on a college campus. This program re- ceived financial support from the federal government. The Smith- Hughes Act of 1917 provided federal funds for training in agriculture and home economics under the terms of the original Smith-Lever Act. The States were required to match federal funds either from state funds, county funds, college funds, or through local contributions.18 17The Smith-Lever Act of 1914, USC Title 7. Sec. 341. 18 Orr, An Analytical Study_of the Conference on Presidents of Negro Land Grant Colleges, p. 11. ; “" H- r '°. 13C we E , a 1. .. mow .h-r .r'ay: .13.".ub'v -.. ... ":33 c.‘ the 5.: :a 1...". [5‘5” I :b-qu'V"S I . o. . 3: states a' :Q - 1A Tara's-oh, ‘3 '0 " " "lo-J 1“*u. .‘ . Nu; :h-‘.‘ H‘ a ‘ . .- 20 Until 1956 there were 69 land-grant colleges and universi- ties. These institutions included at least one college or univer- sity in each of the states and in Alaska, Hawaii, and Puerto Rico. In each of 18 states (Massachusetts and 17 Southern states) there were two institutions which participated in the land-grant funds; in each of 30 states and in Alaska, Hawaii, and Puerto Rico, there was one institution.19 The Establishment of Black Private Land Grant Colleges. In the beginning there was no thought of educating Black people; however, the necessity to do so was always present. During the early part of the seventeenth century, Europeans and Africans, caught in the tide of empire, were joined in a system of economic interdependency--a system Which would inevitably require that Afri- cans would have to be educated and would aspire to become a part of society that would encompass the two races. Inherent in the circumstances under which the two races met was a contradictory motif that would render their relationship un- stable for more than three years. Soon after the establishment of the slave regime in the American South, there were set in motion 19U.S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, Office of Education, Statistics of Land-Grant Colleges and Universities, June, 1955, p. l. A ’ ( '5“:'£ Mrs??- ' . A . “‘ I“) 43:1." J‘. ’.I. I E") ‘3'. "l111e .. way-O “In of 515 I! o'- " T" .: spies an: "1.11! experie' :vpcses E 3312' and sla r“, "3» .. ,’ ... afd a, ‘v:§o .. I . . n "' (L "‘3 use". 1:, Co ~;SEPVE as a ‘- I :n g 1*». . "51718 in 3 Pt.‘! .-9.:1 Se'.‘ . I'll F .E 1. I". ‘ 152‘- "4515 ‘1 ‘ . 21 unintentional processes destined to introduce the first of the many educational opportunities that Black people were to have prior to the Civil War. While the underground railroad was operating against the institution of slavery, a hidden passage was being created within the system and with the unwitting approval of the master class--a passage through which many of the slaves could gain access to educative experiences and become leaders. For purposes of the slave economy, no such passage should ever have come into eXistence. The plantation economy was intended as a completely rational institution in which the relationships be- tween master and slave constituted a model much like that existing between plant and animal species occupying‘the same territory. These were to have been purely symbiotic relationships, in which each Black was to serve as a tool-lwas to have been used solely for the economic benefit and grandeur of his owner. It was intended, also, that the two races live in a system of economic interdependency devoid of personal sentiment and emotions. With slaves conceived of as tools and investments, the rational model required that master-class rela- tions be structured almost solely along functional lines: the profitable purchase, production, and utilization of Slave labor. A few examples may suffice here. Historians have reported freely on the systems of liability insurance and slave care that were v-r ."" :( Ear-S Cf '4 1:. n 1'" 5" 'e :“r e. .I .. _. . r. o 1"" | 5 '3 0' ' :’.q' a ‘32 sass: m "is cargo. 3"”:5‘53'. :‘or S. If .1 3i tie ' .12"‘.'.e: an ’39 9..,r. :}1 .‘9 y... “ :1 S.| .3: N I ”- .. " :t?: :3: p _ | air. :' w. "5 n: -.v . :' ‘15 34"?" c‘. . i 1‘.“- in i1}. 21. ‘ h E.‘ ‘N is .. u \ l . es S~EDh=V ‘ (I . ‘ inf-h. ’:3§ ; i I 1 u. H...“. ‘1 (I ~' Itl'1: : \E‘n.‘. . '5 It .ul’y‘, » 22"! l‘, ‘1 .5... Ilia? " "S ’: , u. “3.: 22 installed as means of protecting this capital. There were no gains without risky venture. After a trader had purchased slaves from African or distant parts of the Americas, death could deplete his number during the passage; pirates could seize his ships; or storms could wreck his cargo. Reports of the reality of these risks and indemnification for such losses are found in the journals and account books of some of the most active traders of the eighteenth century.20 Risk continued on the plantation itself, causing definitive health practices to become standard managerial policies. Nothing illu- stratesthese practices more clearly than the contents of the many plantation records now available to plantation historians. In an extensive survey of‘tfiese records, Ulrich B. Phillips reported that the initial topic contained in them was usually about the care of the slaves.21 Some well organized plantations had their own hospitals, and there is some evidence that these health centers were more than mere names.22 ~William Massie not only recorded his slave population 20The Journal of an African Slaver 1789-1829 (Worcester, Mass.: Antigenerian Society, 1930)§ Nicholas Owen, Journal of a Slave Dealer (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1930); and Wen- dell Holmes Stephenson, Isaac Franklin: Slave Trader and Planter of the Old South (Baton Rouge. Louisiana State University Press, 1938), pp. 40-41. ' 2lUlrich B. Phillips, American Negro Slavery(New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1940), pp. 261-290- 22William D. Postel, The Health of the Slaves on Southern Plantations (Baton Rouge, La.: Louisiana State University Press, 1951). _ 1 ‘A :§v~‘ 3150 c.5‘S' " Tie :a'mr‘i‘ g. u‘-~ -' ' We: a 51:? I \ ”'5‘ I .. -t0AhA 0:.0 Jhoi r 6’ In 217' 1251‘). pr cmoo'..g § L a: 39.5“. at... y. Q' ~ u 3'- '. - ‘ v a“. 3i - J.‘ ‘ . c! v '9‘" ~ ‘-f§» ‘ ' 23 each year but also closely observed their mortality and morbidity rates.23 The managerial practices of Francis Terry Leake of Missis- sippi indicated a similar concern, and the notation he made in his diary on October 6, 1852, subtly reflected the institutionalization of certain health practices as related to slaves and plantations throughout the South.24 Owners judiciously recorded health remedies, which were periodically published in the plantation-oriented press. Another expression of rational business practice appeared in the attempts of planters to efficiently utilize their labor. A com- plex system of division of labor was instituted on every plantation. In particular, there was an attempt to assign labor according to age, sex, physical strength, appearance, and intelligence. Efforts were made to coordinate all'roles to take advantage both of a slave's skills and of the nature'of the seasons. All this was done in pur- suit of the maximum production per unit of slave labor. Also. each master was expected to maintain absolute authority over his slaves. Sustained by law, his authority over them extended to the limits of life and death. Within these broad limits he was expected to require 23William Massie Papers, 1838-1849, Southern Historical Col- lection, University of North Carolina, University of North Carolina Library. 24Diary and Other Records of Francis Terry Leake, 1841-1862. 5 vols., Southern Historical Collections, University of North Caro- lina Library. :7 r: the mix: 2:21: snorted '. 24 and receive absolute obedience, loyalty, docility, diligence, and all other patterns of behavior considered essential for profitable pro- duction and the survival of the slave economy. The laws of every slave state supported the normatiVe line which he could draw, and every slave was expected to fear the consequences of any deviation from the range of tolerance his master set.25 These requirements, when executed to the letter of the slave laws, clearly defined clas- sical capitalistic design. They also set a rigorous sociocultural matrix within which young Blacks were to be socialized and were to become personality types required by the rational order. It was in- deed true that they set the unyielding slave regime that Frank Tan- nenbaum could contrast so sharply with the more lenient system in Latin America and the West Indies. They made possible the patterns of "infantile personality regression" that Roger Bastide attributed to the slave's socialization process, and they encouraged the develop- ment of the "Sambo" personality that Stanley M. Elkins says exists in the Black population today.26 25William B. Hesseltine, The South in American History_(New York: Prentice Hall, Inc., 1943); pp. 39-40. 26Frank Tannenbaum, Sl_ye and Citizen (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. , 1947); Stanley M. Elkins, Slavery: A Problem in Ameri- can Institutional and Intellectual Life (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1962), pp. 117, 128-133; and Roger Bastide, Sociologie et Psychoanalyse (Paris: Press Universitailes de France, 1950), pp. 241-243. 5;: there we o ',o 0;: (a‘hg' 113.8” . .,hb~i ' 1 2 12173335 C311 . Z '00; pg... ‘. _ ~313Jsalto t 311"; :lass, a my} 5 ‘ " " :1 1QC:E'S riff-4n S“ n I 'I " Hag. ~ Ip:6:.". ‘. Iu‘\‘|~ S ‘1‘; U “3‘ .. . u'g “13W 0: 25 But there were points at which the rational order was to be- tray the best intentions of those who created it. Because its ra- tional functions could not adequately satisfy certain emotional needs of the slave-holding class, interracial permissiveness sprang up outside the official structures of that order. Within the boun— daries of social tolerance etched by these patterns of permissive- ness, many Blacks were able to gain closer personal contact with the slaveholding class, acquire some degree of literacy, develop an unplanned-for leadership structure, and thereby experience upward mobility within Southern society. As the South passed through var- ious strategic stages in its history, the intensity of this inter- racial permissiveness waned and was almost extinguished.27 To a very large degree, the so-called rational order relevant to the system of slavery spelled its defeat. Walter Firey remarked: Man has the capacity to develop sentimental attachments to almost any object, and sentiment frequently influences behavior to such an extent that questions of unity are disregarded.28 The inner workings of the slave system illuminated the above statement very well. Prior to the end of slavery, slave investment 27Henry Allen Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967), pp. 3-4. 28Walterfirey, "Sentiment anngymbolism as Ecological Var- iables," in R. W. O'Brien, C. C. Shrag, and W. T. Martin, Readings in General Sociology (Boston: Houghton Miflin Company, 1964), pp. 103- 108. arises 'ad lost 27.: “2'7: S‘QRS tta‘ #:12' $111 be: 515535, a pre ‘Ti'x‘m‘al c‘ ""‘ "=52. Q. ,-~ '69 I ".5 5513153 and 1 ta ‘3 R - w. Q 4- u D,-: h -_ ’ ’ ' a 26 practices had lost most of their rationality. At first there were only faint signs that this was occurring, that is, that the planta- tion order could become laden with emotion and sentiment. As early as the 1650's, a pretentious economy under the dominance of the official colonial class had centered in Virginia and slowly spread along the coast. This was an economy that was firmly anchored in large estates and the influence of the colonial leaders who owned them. There was Stag Park, patented by George Barrington, the gover- nor of the Province of North Carolina; there was the estate of Samuel Ashe who was later elected governor of the state. Another sparkling Showplace was Green Hill, owned by John Ashe who became a leader of the Southern Patriots against the British. Many of these estates became fobulous architectural showplaces, and most assuredly, glit- tering examples of the dominance of a colonial class.29 Even the scheme of class dominance began to change in revolutionary fashion near the close of the seventeenth century, when plantation ownership passed mainly to more rough and ready hands, the use of plantation ownership as a symbol of "clas" and power had already been set.30 29Bullard, A History of Negro Education in the South, p. 4. 30w. J..Cash, The Mind of the South (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1946), p. 6. :5er if then 1" "was '9' .0. vv 5» r l p. i 4 a: .a le ‘52:, sieve 0,... PI? 14m. ‘ ' I" [we] 1'3? 3193 the 5 ~- ?'5 was She-w“. -}" I. .‘ 2 ..‘:O‘ & a H 3' 1"": P31“. 31 :N t: i':.- .“~'., 1. ~~..1; C16 27 Individually, various members of the planter class trusted more and more of their economic future to their ownership of slaves. Men such as Guy M. Bryan of Texas, and James Crawford, a personal friend of Frances Terry Leake, ventured beyond the boundary of ra- tional judgment. The wheeling-and-dealing activities characteris- tic of many slave owners of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries made it most difficult to determine whether the planters or their creditors owned the slaves and the plantations. Public anxiety about this was shown as early as 1738, when in a letter to the EQEEE. Carolina Gazette a reader expressed that emotional slave buying "may prove the ruin of the province."31 The practice so prevalent among the slaveholding class, of placing the most intelligent and likely of the slave crop in personal service to the master rather than in productive service to help his economy obviously violated the rational model. As if by stealth, sentimental attachments between masters and selected slaves was significantly widened. This change was due to the official sanctions of the society. All slaves could not be suf- ficiently utilized, as the slave system required, unless they were trained in ways which the system prohibited. As the power of indi- vidual planters;expanded, many plantations tended to become 31Stephensen, Isaac Franklin, p. 292. r , , 0 ';.IO‘;O.'.' ‘r o:.:': ’ '3 1 f". .. age re? 1 ' ,:,.,l h‘5 2.13."? WC" ?.: I, :e’t ’1" V - I 1“" I" 1 1.; :r o . ~E LTE '11 ‘1‘,“ .‘p Q ' 5 Stiles bk. . x {37.19, S" .“ . I‘l.l‘ ’3. ‘ 35 5.1 3;.- o L" '3 15:” u“ '- a £9.11 11M . ‘ “d 3Eafit }A u(‘ n ‘V U6 A.Al 1|. 3.1. , at ' b. “i t... I‘l‘b" \, 1 ‘ '. ‘3 ‘iJG . F0; ‘ =' -9 28 self-sustaining worlds, and the slaves were trained for effective service to the rational order to have higher value. The food con- sumed, clothing worn, tools used, and houses inhabited were all produced by slave labor. This type of development cause in increase in the complexity of slave duties, and rising slave prices very quickly reflected this fact. A. T. Walker of North Carolina made over 25 per cent profit in his purchase and sale of Burell and Patrick, two slaves who were trained as artisans.32 On-the-job training programs developed within the formal structure in response to the rise in demand for and to the higher prices elicited in the markets where trained slaves were auctioned. Isaac Croom of Alabama trained his slaves in the construction crafts. His magnificent home, 33 Magnolia Grove, stood as testimony of their building skills. C. W. Tait and Thomas Blackshear of Tex s proVided opportunities for their slaves to learn a variety of skills. Many carpenters, blacksmiths, weavers, and seamstresses emerged from these training experiences.34 BZBullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p.s. from A. T. Walker Account Book, 1851;1861, Southern Historical Col- lection, University of North Carolina Library. 33Birmingham News, May 8, 1847, as quoted in James 8. Sellers, Slavery in Alabama (TuscaloOsa: University of Alabama Press, 1950), p. 27. 34Abigail Curlee, "A History of Southern Plantations," Southwestern Historical Quarterly 26:261 (July 1922-April 1923). .‘. '3 .I. 4.3 J.:., F 29 .The inclination of certain owners to respond to the challenge offered by a slave's intelligence provided impetus to the invasion -of plantation society by sentimentalism. Many slaveholders placed .their slaves under the tutelage of master craftsmen. Henry Harris of Clarksdale, Mississippi, was sent by his master to an iron foundry in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, where he learned to mold iron. A slave named Gregory, who was reared in Charleston, South Carolina, was observed by his owner to have a love for tools. He was apprenticed to a mas- tercarpenter who taught him the skillful use of the hammer and saw.35 Frederick L. Olmsted noticed instances such as these during his travels. Although the slave was intrusted with keys to all the store provisions of the plantations, he weighed and measured all the ra- tions issued, supervised all the machines, and made all the machinery 36 He acquired these skills when his including the steam engine. master took him to a steam engine builder and paid $500 to have him trained as a machinist. Records show that production was not always the aim of these training opportunities.37 The wills of many owners 35Orland K. Armstrong, Old Massa's People (Indianapolis: The Bobbs Merrill Co., Inc., 1951), p. 96. 36Frederick L. Olmsted, A Journey in the Seaboard States, 1853-1854 (New York: G. P._Putnam's Sons, 1904), pp. 54-55. 37John P. Curry, "Education in Colonial Georgia," Georgia Historical Quarterly, Vol. 16, p. 141 (June, 1923), 141. ,. l." .093 ‘F. 33”...)11'.» | 1 I: as wet 10' E253! '93.”:3' ' 9 way! {Era-9": b 55 - ' ' -" :1?! in their 30 contained provision for the education of their slaves and occasion- ally for their manumission.38 It was not long before the growing number of highly trained slaves became redundant, exceeding the capacity of many owners to involve them in their productive enterprises. Consequently, these servants were often maintained as status symbols for their owners, who frequently found it necessary to provide some means of holding and supporting them. Out of the pressure of circumstances came a policy of "hiring out" slaves to employers who needed them. Although this policy was legally forbidden by every slave state, it was prac- ticed freely, and instances of prosecution for this violation were extremely rare.39 Despite continued opposition, the practice of training slaves continued to make the plantation what Booker T. 40 What was to become one Washington termed an "industrial school." of the most controversial movements in the entire history of Black education was actually begun within a system officially committed to the policy that Black people should not be educated at all. ti \ 388ullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p. 6. 39V. Alton Moody, YSlavery on Louisiana Sugar Plantations," Louisiana Historical Quarterly (April, 1924), l-112. 4QBooker T. Washington, "Industrial Education for the Negro," in W. E. B. Dubois, The Negro Problem (New York: James Pott and Co., 1903); D. ll; and Booker T. Washington and W. E. B. Dubois, The Negro in the South (Philadelphia: George W. Jacobs and Co., 1907), p. 24. .5..— .-. ":6 iris"? 1:75 11;.1'5 0* " IL“ “ 'gjill 1.53.31.31.- I ti‘, 5615.159 I _ I was of an 3;; ";~ -'~p ' ‘ 7"3- 5.x!" ,1. o ‘ b ' banal .g 33»:- u_ i as SF.-1'. I” “ o . _ . 31 The information and permissiveness inherent in these practices reduced the vigors of plantation life and produced leadership within the Black population. It fostered a higher self-concept among the slaves and, because of the many manumissions which resulted, this led to the rise of an aggressive and mildly secure middlevclass within the free Black populace. Some of the slaves so favored by these edu- cational opportunities managed to develop their own business enter- prises. Lydia Maria Child, a former slave in South Carolina, cited one such example in her grandmother, whose talents had been observed and developed by her master.41 What was more important, however, was that the permissiveness contributed to the development of a group of skilled workers within the free Black and slave populations. This fact is clearly evidenced by the number who were employed in skilled occupations during 1848. Using the industrial census of Charleston, U. 8. Phillips showed that free Black people were employed in all but eight of the fifty occupations composing the skilled group, and slaves were employed in all but thirteen.42 Black workers were fairly domin- ant as carpenters and joiners, barbers, hairdressers, .and bakers. Slaves represented between 47 and 67 per cent of all such employed in the area.43 4.ISee‘Lydia Maria Child, In The Life of a Slave Girl (Boston: Lee and Shepherd Publishers, 186l), p. 12. 4ZUlrich B. Phillips, "The Slave Labor in the Charleston District." Political Science Quarterly, Vol. 22 (l907), 434-435. ‘43Bullock. A History of the Negro in the South, p. 7. 5,» ins be?" .1405 A.) 0:. l'r’i ye f.bruv t 1.. I’v..I-apo rities ' a 'II‘I- .4 He'ass‘sn of t' 1|:... ,V - 4 ... _:' hegg. tr: 0::i':‘l:.. 3r Eaf'. 3' ("Ilka [Ere C 3'? ‘ 3* 21-. Elr 03‘ Via-.4 ; . "- ll'; d‘TEC‘. 32 By the beginning of the nineteenth century, permissiveness had eroded the plantation society's rational policy, and new educa- tional opportunities had been opened for a select group of slaves. As an expression of the emotional needs and rugged individualism of the planter class, the institution of slavery had become infected with a particular manner of indulgence that was eventually to result in an educated core of slaves who would supply the basic leadership on behalf of their own freedom. It was also during this same period that household servants were placed in direct personal contact with slaveholders and, to a very large degree, these relationships took place in spite of the re- striction of slave laws as they related to the social relations of Blacks and Whites. This situation became so commonplace until the unnoficially relaxed socio-cultural situation became part and parcel of the system of slavery. For example, in the case of Michan V. Hyatt, evidence showed that Leah, his wife was severely attached to many of her slaves; she reared most‘of them in the household with her own children. In the case of Randall V."Eang; it is revealed that a male slave was born and reared within the family of its owner.44 Many slaves actually slept in the same room with their masters in order to be on hand to cater to their every need. Specially selected slave 44Sellers, Slavery in Alabama, p. 88. . A par 0; in”: th: vUnS~u E75" 511 age; 3:5? mate's-3 rilidefllx. ‘|' afifingfi Ana ‘1: 2.2 2‘ life we re (”The 59'} it"? 33‘2“; on .'~ ‘ J, washes of .L‘ I" '1‘. hr 1 I it“ . i“. J In t."“o‘ . t... i: S\~r‘* ia'll in“ 0), Eu: ’ ‘ 1 is“ 33 girls were the constant companions of mistresses, and in many cases were their same age; and servants were also available and inseparable from their masters--these servants indulged their masters as a very special kind of luxury. Even though a case can hardly be built for slavery as being that of a mild institution, it was, moreover, an ex-slave from the Bryant Natkins' Plantation in Alabama who reflected: Then there were the special privileges that made it so worthwhile being a servant on the old plantation.45 'H. Austin Steward, a slave for twenty-one years, recalled in 1859 that the slaves of Colonel Alexander were always better fed, better clad, and had greater privileges than any he knew in the Old Dominion. "And, of course," he added, "the patrol had long had an eye on them, anxious to flog some of those 'pampered niggers' who were spoiled by the indulges of a weak owner."46 Historians have not been reluctant to underrate the socio- historical significance of these patterns of master-slave relation- ships. Such relationships were more than instances of sheer physical proximity and the availability of slaves for exploitation by their masters; they carried a degree of personal intimacy that extended be- yond the level of blood misture and miscegenation into the area of 45Armstrong, Old Massa's People, p. 34. 46Austin Steward, Twenty-One Years a Slave and Forty Years Freeman (Rochester:‘"Ailings and Cory, 1859), p. 28. A .. 5U r‘c' ' .-£.,-. a ..2.‘.. y In 0' O ML . .u. f\ 4 r 1. 9” .W. (9 u - {a a. ‘ i r or s ~ .3 e .... . . e e . v dum .\. urn ... an- . . . v . o s... .x. a.\ 4 C l {J ”a. .r H: v. E r X C F. a... . . ~ .: .. I p c a. an Ta 0. o. P. «.3 u P 5% a... .' gs s a 4- . . T p- 3 (a ._ x. .3 .5 p0 - '0. v at r .3 e . .q ,. s ,. p n .I . .. RU Pr .5 a.» r .. .3 . av .‘ W P a. ‘5 y a. :4 F. qr:- -\: N . o A. u no. .u» . on.“ Q. 2‘ en.“ ; ‘1 P. .§ . ..3 . .3». .p . .u . o. . n. r . . out. . . 3.. P. ... a: b fl: - .0- -\¢ . ‘ .0 0 .ss. 9 .a. s b ‘ 'I u. s ‘Q 9. in .u. .. - p... ”.4 .. . ma a... H... .n ~ .1 s . .. . .: a H . 3.. Di .. r .2 é .... ..... T ... 34 cultural diffusion and acculturation. They constituted a way of life that transformed many Black children into personality types which to a very large degree, modified that of their masters. There was a closeness of mind involved in them and a social nearness which helped give some of these children a special self-image--a feeling of worth and superiority. Slaves who belonged to wealthy owners felt more superior to their lesser slave brethren. From these exalted atti- tudes of one group of slaves to another, these slaves established within their own subculture a tradition and an attitude of in-group snobbishness not only toward their fellow slaves but toward the poorer white people also. In many instances behavioral mimicry and internalization was so great, on the part of the slaves, that many slaves were more simi- lar to their masters than their masters were to themselves. There were actual cases in which some, influenced by persistent intimacy with their owners and their families, became very much like the quality folk with whom they lived. For example, Julie, the slave nurse in the family of William Alexander Hoke, was reared like the other girls of the Hoke family. She was married to a mulatto male from the same plantation, and the ceremony was held in the Episcopal Church "in a big white-style wedding."47 Accepted as a member of the 47Nilliam Alexander Hoke Papers, Southern Historical Collec- tion, University of North Carolina Library, from Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p. 9. .”’":.‘r ago. II I... ‘dbl ; '"".n " L: ,5, tr; ‘1' N; In ‘ a"? a.‘ N," " ' ‘ar. "n ":5." _ J N Eel. pa? hzv ’. W "'1" 5'79 r -: '60: US‘; 3.‘ “a n— . .5 an”; 35 Julie marTPSSEG the family and fell from grace when she later shouted in a B‘aCk church. Neatness and manner of dress, and elegance of appearance soon found their way into the servants' personal value systems. Some of the slaves learned from their mistresses and masters that their ad- vice on such matters as dress and social etiquette was welcomed as part of their duty as servants. Assimilation was so complete, in many instances, that a given slave--or slaves--could pass for White under the banner of master-class demeanor unless betrayed by his com- plexion or someone's knowledge of his condition of servitude. A mu- latto slave woman who had been purchased at Louisville and who worked on the Affleck Plantation in Texas ran away to the nearby town of Brenham where she registered as a White woman. After receiving posi- tive treatment usually reserved for aristocratic Southern White women, she was apprehended by her master and summarily returned to the bondage from which she had temporarily escaped. However, she never divested herself of her aristocratic demeanor. Even though she was later sold to another family and married their servant, she was subsequently freed and lived to serve her former master as hostess at her residence in Mississippi}!8 It should be clear by now that this 48Thomas Affleck Papers, 1847, 1866, Rosenberg Library Archives, Galveston, Texas, from Bullock, A History of Negro Educa- tion in the South, p.8. o i-: ‘ Q 7 ;~‘:r' ‘l'e ~ ..- ' ' “ II- , A... Q K T: :1: I . I fi in‘ r.1 y : uuouhl. y 3’;=;J 9A,. ‘ . I“ ['1 "Vs if h ?‘ .'..'}“‘\ . ~ ..: i..~ \ I . ‘ f: “ ..A v 8 " at ame- a"! .aste’s' ’P a sl - F t. " "‘o ' . i ' :\" .'D\\| 1'- ~ C Q“ ‘ h‘. ;:H \h N ‘- |.:~ -.:| .5 _. we] 5‘.” "- > v ‘ HI 5 ?.A. Q h 2"" 3'. .L" F- I “ ... H v' t. d j ‘ :5. \.-I . C” - d ‘\:g—' "F. .r I . :3... “‘- c. I -\Y' Q U Zi'-- - s ‘: 36 was the only life the so-called "house slaves" knew. They were not in the least all "Sambos." A Gradually and inevitably, the paternalistic indulgence of their masters encouraged literacy among the slaves, contrary to the implied assumptions of Stanley Elkins and Roger Bastide, personality is derived, not from that of a one-way impact of a cultural setting upon the individual, who passively reflects its imprint, but rather from the interaction between the child and those who teach him. Many of the favored slaves internalized feelings of sameness vis-a-vis their masters. They reasoned that being able to read and write made them such and they made positive use of all the opportunities neces- sary for attaining literacy that the system afforded them. A house servant learned through necessity how to distinguish among the dif- ferent newspapers his master ordered him to select, and slaves who served as foremen had to be literate enough to keep a daily log or record. More generally, however, some slave children gained literacy through play schools which developed from the social relations slaves had with their owners and their children. Even though they began as tools of play, these schools were often taken quite seriously by both teacher and pupil. Such was the case of the Mississippi plantation when a planter's son aspired to make scholars from his father's slaves. Five of these slaves became ministers. Letitia Burwell ~51: «a: 3‘ tries - , a. ‘2’. as ’E? 51“.". : O n . "r”v. .- r“‘ —-.:l ash). .C . ‘Io 0” '5- 7. I '_ , I. v. 1; "‘6 S'r;. - ., v ‘ T‘"'-'-3°:"r- o. ‘ “ .u .5.._:’ ~ I u“ ‘ ‘ V . n A ‘g g .' :.i= rt ‘pu‘ :. ‘ . .. .' 32w” ,._ ..--'III . ‘ L ’ u. . ‘ A ‘I pd 'FI ‘ ul'. \. 5". 37 in recalling her life as a slave remarked that she and her sister operated one of these "schools,“ and she emphasized the reward her father gave them for teaching arithmetic to the slave boys he was _ training as mechanics.49 Richard Sinquefield experienced similar educational advantages through the literary enthusiasm of the White children with whom he played, and so did Frederick DoUglass.50 As the spread of antislavery literature among the slaves grew more threatening, the plantation owners grew bitter, thus the teach- ing of slaves to read and write moved“underground. In fact, a play school for teaching slaves operated within the household of the Hon- orable John Fonchereau Grimke, Judge of the Supreme Court of South Carolina. His daughters, Sarah and Angelina, delighted in teaching slave children‘at night against legal opposition. In describing how she operated her school Sarah reported lightly: "The light was put out, the keyhole secured, and flat on our stomachs before the fire, with spelling books in our hands, we defied the laws of South Caro- _lina."5] 49Letitia Burwell, A Girl's Life in Virginia Before the War (Nashville: American Methodist Episcopal Sunday School Union, 1906), pp. 7-22. 50Richard A. Sinquefield, Life and Times of Rev. Richard A. Sinquefield, 1832-1908 (Nashville: SundayTSchool Union, 1909), pp. 7-8. 5lThe Experiences of Thomas H. Jones (Worcester, Mass.: Henry J. Rowland, 1857), pp. 13—15. '9 .u. - +£- ' ‘Cu...‘.’1 I nu'v o n' ’5 ."al‘IY .-,5 1‘.» d _ 2.2;. l-Le k-‘P’ ' ".1 1:": ;'.rr.; H31 ‘3 ' . ~ ' :3) .‘6‘ h‘\‘ 38 The spirit of defiance expressed by these children spread to the slaves. Thomas H. Jones pursued the freedom of self through a spelling book which became his constant companion.52 The literary zeal of Frederick Douglass was nourished in this way. He kept crumbs of bread with which he bribed hungry White 53 Thus boys into giving him lessons from Webester's,Spelling_Book. the boy who would become one of slavery's most bitter and eloquent enemies was not denied his destiny. Historical literature is replete 'with cases of slaves who struggled to gain literacy in this way.54 In the experience of slaves it was inevitable that they would learn even against the most extreme odds. As the various patterns of interracial permissiveness gained a foothold outside the official structure of the planter-dominated society, those persons who were anxious to establish schools for Black people became more determined and convinced that their cause was indeed a noble one. Mainly motivated by the need to make their slaves more obedient, many plantation owners pushed by the desire to Ibid. 53Benjamin Quarles, Frederick Douglass (Washington: Associ- ated Publishers, Inc., 1948), pp. 6-7; also F. M. Holland, Frederick Douglass (New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1891), p. 15. 54The Annual Report of the American Foreign Anti-Slavery- Society (New York: May 7, 1850), p. 128; Carter G. Woodson, Educa- tion of the Negro Prior to 1861 (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1915). p. 207. ' n. ‘ -I ,1: m 5.3195 "are reading 5 he: aunts "‘1' mi 1! 'r .. . 42.. 1. F- l 0‘ . :Z‘:>.1v€$ 1.0 : 'I'm af 515 ii a: lnS‘ISZE 21571:: $3512“ “3'4 58392 F. 91 “mt '?*"1e'est of fan‘ . -.,:: a'a... 39 control their slaves established Sunday schools, and very often re- quired the reading of the Bible as part of a home-study program.55 There were attempts to institute these activities as part of the official order. In spite of the overall fear that literacy would ex- pose the slaves to abolitionist literature and stimulate revoltwith- in the ranks of slavery, there arose a group of Southern religious leaders who insisted that, instead, literacy was the potential savior of the slave system. None of these was more persistent than the Reverend George F. Pierce, Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South.56 on March 27, 1853, Bishop Pierce entered a very strong plea in the interest of the toleration of literacy among the slaves. Even gthis declaration of sentiment came later, it nevertheless indicates the sentiment of Whites regarding the literacy of slaves which had developed before the Civil War. Long before this conversion, however, signs that informal permissiveness would result in formal education for Blacks in the South were already abundant. The foreign mission that sprang up around slavery never dis$ipated; they were allowed to form the nu- cleus of a movement for formal schooling among free Blacks and slaves. 55Nehemiah Adams, A Southside View of Slavery(Boston: T. R. Marvin Saborn, Carter and Maine, 1855), pp. 31-32. 55George C. Smith, Life and Times of George F. Pierce (Macon, Ga.: NP, 1888), p. 474-475. m a \ 1 r- d " =11 tr e 3:.” .1?”- H ..a‘ . :‘v‘ v. 5551 I A. ‘g. 71 .oo *1 D. 1" r " ..‘.'."onfi ‘F \ I '1‘. l“ vugl 0.. a . 1 P‘.‘ a a q . c '0 u. H‘. p 0.. ‘ - O b r ‘4‘ . v P.-. n: i a a. 5 N. I an. an pa. 5 a. h. \‘v‘ i‘ an. I as .wn .&. 40 It was as early as 1620, during the beginning of the slave trade, that English clergymen expressed an interest in the extension of re- ligious training to those "in bondage beyond the seas and had made 57 A century later, some Presby- ' some progress in this direction." terians took even more adve nturesome advances in the direction of developing religious leadership among Black people by making formal training directly available to them. Hugh Bryan, a wealthy and deeply religious Presbyterian opened a Black school in 1740, in Charleston, South Carolina. In Virginia other schools had opened by 1755 where Presbyterians were teaching slaves to read and spell .58 This movement was extended to college training for selected Blacks. Anxious to determine whether or not a Black was capable of acquiring a college education, Presbyterians selected John Chavis of North Carolina as an experimental subject and sent him to Princeton Univer- sity. After graduation, Chavis became a leading teacher in the 57Paul Monroe, A Cyclopedia of Education (New York: The Mac Millan Company, 1913), p. 405, and C. C. Jones, The Religious Instruc— tion of the Negro in the United States as quoted in W. P. Harrison, The Gospel Among_$1aves (Nashville: Publishing House of the Methodist Episcopal Church, 1893), pp. 38-39. 58Luther P. Jackson, "Religious Development of Negroes in Virginia," Journal of Negro Education 16:174 (January, 1931); John Rankin, Letters on American Slavery (Boston: Garrison and Knapp, 1833), p. 31; Charles C. Jones, A CatechiSm of Scripture and Doctrine Practice for Familial and Sabbath Schools Designed Also for the Oral Instruction of Colored Persons (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publications, 1853). “Note though planned for oral instruction, Jones' Catechism was used by slaves who were learning to read secreflyu - ‘ p :1 v’:e {‘53 Sh" . v.0 . - :-‘; 9' b. "| .'.. ..' c “Z"Q - ‘5 .ll 1‘.’_ ., \.,~ av ‘ ' \. ~- . S .3 'EE‘ I ;. .‘ ,. at .5 e4 1‘ ‘ 11.. . I \ .P- . . g \ 5-. .~' 5-. u: ..= ’9 "s ;.‘A e‘; ..A 304’ w- . "t"' a“ «5.- ‘ . u: '1.“ "uh”!- - vbv‘h l 41 South. Once his school was established, however, Chavis was forced to make it available only to White children. He can rightfully be classified as the: first Negro to act as headmaster of White Southern children of aristocratic parentage. Many of Chavis' students became great leaders in government and politics. And although Black chil- dren were denied access to his scholarship, he did prove that Blacks were capable of acquiring a college education which for them could be profitable.59 Educational work among the slaves was considerably augmented by other religious groups. Dr. Thomas Bray of England, organizing the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel near the opening of the eighteenth century, raised funds, hired teachers, and established schools for slaves and Indians in Charleston, S.C., Savannah, and other parts of Georgia.60 The Southern Quakers soon joined Dr. Bray's associates in providing the rudiments of an educational system under the slave regime. Beginning merely as a missionary gesture aimed at improving the conditions of the slave under bondage, the friends soon moved to a more liberal position of absolute adherence to the philosophy of radical abolitionism. The years between 1664 59Bullock, A Historygof Negro Education in the South, p. 12. 60Edgar Legare Pennington, Thomas Bray's Associates and their Work Among Negroes (Worcester: The Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, 1939). .a' 5 ~ 2.15:5: .22 V‘ 1'. 3:13:21 115 951 :sa: 3:211 '. , q . ‘” p.’\|A a? '9' L3 3' v'v i u 2.] 42. and 1785 marked the period of their most aggressive campaign. Their first school was established in Virginia, where they began with 108 pupils who stood at a variety of academic levels. They founded a 1 second school at Gravelly Run and by 1808 had instituted a trustee system by which slaves could receive individualized instruction on a familial basis, followed by eVentual manumission.6] The educational opportunities, similar to the others which had developed prior to the Civil War, were neither available to all the slaves nor firmly established as an acceptable part of the offi- cial Southern society. They were privileges principally gained by house slaves still under the regime or by the free Blacks who had escaped it. Out of this indulgence and stealth there had developed for . Blacks a greater trend toward freedom and a leadership that would keep the trend alive, though not always in great force. A free Black population was permitted to develop beyond the walls that held the slaves. Between 1790 and 1860, this population had increased at rates significantly higher than the slave population. It expanded from 32,523 or 4.7 per pcent of the total Black population in the 62 South in 1790, to 258,346 or 6.3 per cent in 1860. Most of this 61Woodson, Education of the Negro, pp. 113-114. 62Bureau of the Census, Negro Population: 1790-1915 (Wash- ington, 0.0.: Government Printing Office, 1918), pp. 53-57. .. a u- r r0 7:): 03: C9r52u» ~-- A‘ :r. "F :r: 3 1'1 sliver! a» 'T";‘“. i 0 un- '- ‘ E IP er. I 'b “*wn C.‘ ‘.‘A ‘ U .P‘. . 1 a flu... ." fiv- u " 1 $15-- ;‘I. - .QSZ ‘fi 1., F O ‘4 1':’. -1 -1 ' “Eba‘e- u‘; .2“- 43‘ increase was concentrated in those areas of the South where informal patterns of interracial permissiveness had been the most prevalent. Considerable interbreeding between the master and slave classes had resulted in a sizable muTatto population that included many who had apparently gained their manumission through the conscience of their White parentage. Some had been freed through master-class indulgence, and, of course, intermarriage between free Blacks had resulted in free births. Notwithstanding its source of origin, however, the free Black population of the South came to constitute a threat to the region's official and traditional way of life. 0f even greater threat was the literate and articulate Black leadership that educational and social permissiveness had allowed to develop. This leadership was sometimes bold and crude, at other times more sophisticated and subtly cunning. At times it was able to keep the official society off balance and on a collision course with the antislavery sentiments that were developing both within and out- side the South. For example, Blacks in Charleston, after reading the antislavery debates of the Missouri Compromise, became incensed by the attacks upon slavery that it implied and revolted in an effort to effectuate the institution's extermination. They found their leader in Denmark Vesey, an educated Black who had brought with him his ideas of freedom from Santo Domingo. They struck against their =2 fie W "I :.. w"- . .. 'Ilfi Orgre L. .2 3:11 on» iii an: r u'i‘l ' V'- 16'52‘ $11.12* iii-1‘31 the ‘r ‘41.” '. ,‘ Q _ --". 11"»: E: 'u ' ”a. ‘ "1': ‘n ‘1”! k ' “- 44 masters in the bloody insurrection of 1822. Although their attempt was crushed, there were others who had also gained some rudiments of education and who were also quite instrumental in striking down the walls of slavery. David Walker, 6 Black religious fanatic, who had managed to gain a very high degree of literacy under slavery, emerged from the free Black population of Wilmington, North Carolina, to use his knowledge and influence against slavery. Walker published his Aggeal in 1829 and through it all urged all slaves of the South to‘rise up against their masters. In a very subdued and prophetic manner, he made this promise to those of his people still in bondage: For although the destruction of the oppressors, God may not effect by the oppressed, yet the Lord our God will bring other destruction upon them, for not infrequently will he cause them to rise up against the others, to be split, divided, and oppress each other,6§nd sometimes to open hostilities with sword in hand. Copies of the appeal were widely and illegally distributed among the slaves, causing an increase in the spirit of revolt. This was evidenced by Governor John Forsyth's communication to the Georgia legislature in which he charged the seriousness of the insurrectionary 64 movement to the distribution of this type of literature. Two years after its distribution, even though no plausible evidence of 63David Walker's Appeal as quoted in Carter G. Woodson, Ihg_ Negro in Our History (Washington, D.C.: The Associated Publishers, 1922), p. 93. 64Herbert Aptheker, "Militant Abolitionists," Journal of Negro History, XXVI (October, 1941), 445-465. “£752: 1.15 been 21:: slave rete 3‘3139513‘19 - .’,-‘:11 d'ld St: {5’31 11 f1 arses ‘ I I 7",: ‘F-azls t’ n.1,“ I t” .3: Swice 31:3,? i=5 Pk é"~' P o. '. :Q‘ 2: ;:.-:‘°‘" "N o. n.“- ‘ «3-6.6,: t» \. ‘ L ‘ ‘ " 6. .1 - e a‘ “‘ "‘ ‘- . u, - .. _ is‘f) : t M: ‘ - ‘izfi 45 connection has been found, to date, Nat Turner, the mystical and literate slave rebel of Virginia, led his renowned insurrection against the slave masters of Henrico County, Virginia. Despite the very formal and stringent measures instituted by the plantation owners, the flames of slave insurrection persisted, kept alive by various appeals that were sent into the South by educated Blacks who had since abandoned the area. It would not be incorrect to say that probably the heaviest blow struck against slavery by slaves emanated from those slaves who had escaped from the South to the North to join the antislavery move- ment. Through their personal narratives, the leaders of this move- ment found readymade materials for their propaganda machines. Wil- liam Wells Brown, Thomas H. Jones, Lunceford Lane, Frederick Douglass, Austin Steward, and the Reverend Richard Anderson Sinquefield are examples of those who had acquired their education while slaves and had escaped to serve the antislavery movement. The works these men published through the antislavery press and the speeches they made from the antislavery platform Were used not only as dramatic proof that Blacks could learn but also as a vivid dramatization of the evils of slavery that was more graphic than any other type of anti- slavery literature. The activities of these Black leaders make one conclusion eminently clear: many opportunities for the personal 1:11:31 if 575‘ r2=':‘:'.al "167; 1‘33. the a 3:"?95 LIVE. \‘q .th.‘ SS; ‘ .3. u“ . ‘ ‘ ' CiEr f‘ra; .'. b \".‘ ‘ - __. - ~E‘= . )9 ~36 - ‘ -:~"c.-. -.'.- ‘ s. ‘ C. e‘ - O-.‘ ‘ 46 emancipation of Blacks had come into being as early as 1860 with the unintentional help of those who dominated Southern society at that time. With the advent of the Civil War, Black people's educational opportunities moved into a new cycle. A series of historical events began to push them from underground and to establish them as an offi- cial part of the new order imposed upon the South after its military defeat. Historically speaking, to reflect back over these decades, it is very clear that the trends of change were operative in the South as early as the middle of the nineteenth (19th) century. By this time the official system of slavery had been invaded by unofficial socio- sexual permissiveness which had substantially weakened the formal order of slavery and rendered it invulnerable to the pressures of a war in the making. Out of the rationality of societal organization had come an incompatibility between North and South that would cause violent ideological and physical conflict between the North and the South. Because both regions had divergent courses of socio-economic development, the bases forinterregional cooperation had been dissi- pated at the level of equalitarianism. Also, the credit system upon which the South's agrarian economy had rested, was the result of 1'32" 115.5321 J...» a "I A - u a i?! 31% wt: 2":11: 51 :=' b C‘ ‘ I 0., __.‘ of. i :..5 ii the 8:. I g. .: 19:. and t, I. I. ":)e I'Ie‘ 47 Northern industrial profits, causing the major portion of the planta- tion class to strongly resent this notion of dependency. The system of forced and cheap slave labor, which was quite important to the health and sustenance of the Southern economy, had caused the nationfis onslaught of European immigration to cautiously and intentionally not settle in the South--they alternatively settled in the North, East, Middle West and the West: the westward direction of national expan- sion. These newcomers were, therefore, continuing to inflate the population of the free states and to concomitantly create an imbal- ance in congressional representation which was unfavorable to slavery. In general, the needs of the South were radically different from those of the North; and its national political influence had not been strong enough to force through congress legislation favorable and gainful to its agrarian economy. Thus lacking the political power to effect relief, the South turned to the force of arms. However, when the CiVil War did occur the ideological con- flict between the South's rational economic policy and the emotional need of the slaveholding class backfired even further. The strong strands of individualism and informal character of the South, which had softly developed outside of its official structure, had weakened the society for the ordeal that lay ahead. Southerners had lived and existed relatively free of governmental interference except for the a. "E: ‘12? ulcl l 1:; :;n:l: m: 185' v1. 0. q’rnz4c " .II. --1 uh; .- . 1513 1.15 a“ "1:11. ‘3‘” ' . ‘ ._. I ”nevi" ' 48 responsibility of paying taxes--which they felt essential for the sustenance of minimal public functions. They also found it difficult to accept the idea that any government, at home or abroad, had the right to invade their social life or to regulate their economic in- terests. This attitude, of course, strengthened public suspicions of every step taken by the confederacy toward organization for war through the extension of its power.65 Moreover, despite the govern- ment's reluctance to cut into the people's customary liberties, the pressure of the war made curtailment necessary, and triggered the un- disciplined individualism of Southern society. When the official Southern society lost its control over Black people an entire new course of problems arose. Without any in- tentional relation to education, the sequence began with a large- scale movement of the slaves away from the plantations and toward areas which symbolized larger margins of freedom. The Emancipation Proclamation which was finalized on January 1, 1863, simply added momentum to a tide of bondsmen already'in motion. There were liter- ally hordes of slaves wandering from town to town searching for a Place to settle. "When the ship‘, John Adams, anchored at one of the x; 65Francis Butler Simkins, The South 01d and New (New York. Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. , 1951), p. 148. Charles W. Ramsdell, "The Confederate Government and the Railroads," American Historical Re- View, XXII (July, 1917), 794- 810; Lawrence Henry Gipson, "The Col- lapse of the Confederacy," Mississippi Valley Historical Review, IV (March, 1918), 437- 458. {21:15, Blacks rusfe-z reams that could po' 5:":‘igtne refugee si :es "011 neighboring L‘- tamer of 1855, 178 1511118 Cities. My 22.1.; the great exa: 113111111 the large! E'zazks, bro were 156% 33011110115 C 51-11111: Union for: 2“. ‘3 h. . u _ I4 14 ,1; w. 1 . ~.21eszitu‘.e and h 3;. As a result of ‘5' 7. 119‘ 11' fewer 0n .‘=: R‘ I " u! ‘1!" 'esionsibi‘. 1'. e .16 Woman 0‘ 49 plantations, Blacks rushed along Carrying every conceivable thing on 66 their heads that could possibly be placed there." Vincent Colyer, describing the refugee situation in North Carolina, reported that slaves from neighboring plantations fled in groups of 100 at a time.67 By the summer of 1865, masses of Black people had migrated from the farms to the cities. More than twenty thousand had reached Washing- ton, D.C.; the great exodus had reached the plantations of Missis- sippi; and all the larger cities of the South had been overrun by de- serting Blacks, who were seeking the protection of invading Union forces. These enormous concentrations of refugees caused severe prob- lems that the Union forces did not anticipate and thus, were not pre- pared to handle. The problem was basically that of finding support for the destitute and hungry maSses who had been uprooted by the change. As a result of emancipation, the slaves could no longer de- pend on their former owners. ‘Ironically, the law that freed the slaves of irresponsibility--a1so freed the slave owners of responsi- bility. The problem of support was made even more acute by the con- dition of the refugees themselves. All who had left the plantations 66Elizabeth H. Botume, First Days Amonggthe Contraband (805- ton: Lee and Shepard Publishers, 1893), p. 15. 67Vincent Colyer, Brief Report of the Services Rendered by the Freed People of the United States Army in North Carolina, 1862 (New York: 1864), p. 34; and Allan Nevins, The.Emergence of Modern America, 1865-1878 (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1927), p. 9. m: pfefil‘ed f 17:? the slaves 2'12: :are far i n p k‘ Eat“: 11.382 6.. me probll :1: salt-tiar- ':' 1 ‘:ster the “.1; ‘1‘ ~.. v‘ :59 CC”: 1». ’2“ ‘f: e19 CT C ‘ 0‘ ’ . a" ---. bath 6‘ \. . o ‘1 c .. :zi'E ti. Ilu . J \- .0- S c. ”‘1 H'IC.’ 1.2;. 50 were not prepared for the ordeals- a. -3 3‘ Man e T335055 fleeting $1.59.”.1y fr“. \- ‘Q *n ' be to Stre'5: '& Elie e:’~99F11 '3‘7: . ' '0 Vela: ;& f ‘9Ent 0‘ \&:$nf . w tne 58: ER 60 The great benefactors of society are so often the visionaries who have the peculiar perceptivity to see beyond the exigencies of the present that is here, and to address the future that is to be. Human society is dynamic;‘it'is never a static accomplishment capable of complete realization in a lifetime or a generation. Rather it is always in process--always different from what it was; yet never what it will be. To integrate the social flux, men who care about the re- finement of human experience create institutions and monuments to themselves sometimes, but history has a manner of dealing with what is culturally fraudulent. The true objective of an institution should be to strengthen the fabric of society, to enhance the quality of the life experience of the individual, and to project the values of the culture out of which it arises. The function of an institu- tion is to relate discrete social experiences in such manner as to infuse life with a quality of meaning which accentuates its social value. Hence, an institution is a social instrument directed toward the enhancement of the individual human experience to the ultimate benefit of the whole society. It is created as a response to a need that is felt to be fundamental, and its singularity is that it trans- cends time and circumstance, addressing itself to successive genera- tions of men and women. The Black college is such an institution. Born of the turmoil of a war which made Black men free with an imperfect freedom, r. :9 ‘ 1'” \-“Q"‘ ' .128 l: a: 0' Pflr‘f: . H. JUI- W "y :- 8“" fr- .‘r‘rn xi 0 I. . .8!» Fe. a\~ AH» nQ 44 Riv '- n v .I-- 61 established in a social environment hostile to its presence and com- mitted to its destruction, the Black college has survived to become one of the singular assets of the Black community and a unique, valuable, contributing component in the educational confines of America. The origin and development of institutions of higher educa- tion for Black people is directly related to the existence of slavery from 1660 to 1865, and to the caste system that replaced it, as well as to the widespread existence of racial prejudices on the campuses of Northern universities and colleges prior to the 1950's. It has thus been part and parcel of what Gunnar Myrdal has analyzed as "an American dilemma."80 After the founding of common schools for Blacks through the Freedmen's Bureau, it was not long before the need for higher educa- tion among freedmen became evident. The supply of Northern White teachers was inadequate and even the number then available could not be expected to last. The Freedmen's Bureau influenced the establish- ment of normal schools where Blacks could learn the simplest elements of the teaching arts. Schools of this class came into existence at Norfolk, Charleston, New Orleans, and Nashville. 80St. Clair Drake, "The Black University in the American Social Order," Daedalus (Summer 1971), 833-892. Within tri stzrsdist E1315 3153.5 to Linco‘; (Beforce Unive' ist-seizes of t! eat; in South 5:51: 3.59.1: Coll 33:35 in North “355503531 C: 5‘ “: --A b ..=Pat ‘359 t ”5?: to haVE 1 .; tie Aperican ?‘=-- “‘Aee’ Ta1‘l I» "H" Atian 0' 39:3 Bah‘ . ‘thS? ?;-:I h ~05 .- 1'“ rch 1 ‘ '65:» . . “a Ihs - CY): .. Q 3“] r6 1":gl ‘. " 62 Within thirty-five years after the end of the war, the Afri- can Methodist Episcopal Church was operating three institutions in addition to Lincoln University in Pennsylvania, founded in 1854, and Wilberforce University in Ohio, founded in 1856. Also founded under the auspices of the African Methodist Episcopal Church was Allen Uni- versity in South Carolina, Paul Quinn College in North Carolina, and Morris Brown College in Atlanta, Georgia. The Black Baptists had established Benedict College in South Carolina, while Livingstone" College in North Carolina was being supported by the African Metho- dist Episcopal Church, Zion. At the turn of the nineteenth century, in addition to the in- stitutions controlled by Black denominations, White church5boards were operating twenty institutions that granted degrees. Those that proved to have the greatest potential for growth were three supported by the American Missionary Association (Congregationalist): Fisk in Tennessee, Talladega in Alabama, and Atlanta University, as well as two other Atlanta schools, Clark (Methodist Episcopal) and the Atlanta Baptist College (renamed Morehouse College later). Most of these church institutions received some support from the Freedmen's Bureau, which also established Howard University in 1868 as a school open to all races; it was named after the Union General, Oliver 0. Howard. The following schools in Atlanta, Clark, Morris Brown, reuse and Speln ' 5.330111 119 01‘. P3 : zeezing then ll T”! exerting con: i‘35. Tine legi: :21. The thir 55 5953. a. ‘2... '~ s of the $1 " E39 grifddtes 1:51-37! tlite S ”IVE-- ”5413f higr r-l '- r e 63 Morehouse and Spelman, later became known as the Atlanta University Complex. By 1900, Arkansas, Virginia, Georgia, and Mississippi were each supporting one degree-granting institution for Black people-- thus keeping them away from White state colleges while at the same time exerting control over the scope and content of Black higher edu- cation. The legislatures that held the purse strings were frankly racist. The thirty-one Southern institutions of higher education for Blacks had a combined enrollment of about 750 students pursuing de- grees in 1900, and had graduated close to 1,500 individuals.since the freeing of the slaves. These were only slightly half of the Black college graduates in existence; however, during this time, some Northern White schools had hesitantly and reluctantlyembarked upon a policy of highly selective admission of a few Blacks. The Founding of.HamptonNIn§;jtute and ..-. Howard University However. by the time Atlanta University (founded.in 1867) had gained its legalstatus as an institution of higher learning, the American Missionary Association had already turned its attention to more extensive operations in this field. ~It had envisioned the 53:35. 1077181 and i :finfithe instit; financed upon 1 :tt:ssuffered .3'strcng was la i51‘5’65'5 Bureau t '51'3'. had dEVEl ?‘,:‘ Eiacks they Eixit°r9anizir H5339 was to . - 33 WP‘Eriy ' ”1367. t {t' 3‘55. a small é ’fir ‘ . " “he Schon V " 59‘ 1n the H "3631715“ "tute. 5:104 , “EVElOD Specific t r-. 5 s15. 64 Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute of Virginia.81 Inspiration to found the institute reached as far back as the time when the Union Army advanced upon Richmond and first made contact with the pitiable conditions suffered by the slaves whom it liberated. General Samuel C. Armstrong was later sent to Hampton as a representative of the Freedmen's Bureau to relieve the situation and adjust the difficul- ties that had developed there between the races. Finding an assort- ment of Blacks there who were basically wards of the government, he set about organizing the people into an effective community. His first step was to create a program whereby Black teachers and leaders might be properly trained.82 In 1867, the American Missionary Association purchased TLittle Scotland," a small plantation of 125 acres on the Hampton River, as a site for the school. From a manual labor school that he had been operating in the Hawaiian Islands, General Armstrong cut the pattern for the institute. He wanted to make Blacks of service to themselves and Whites, to dignify human labor by reinforcing it with intelli- gence, to develop a sense of responsibility within each pupil by giv- ing him specific tasks to perform and to saturate the entire program with useful fOrms of manual training. Under Armstrong!s.leadership 81Cornelius Heatwole, A History of Education in Virginia (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1916), pp. 349-353. 82Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p. 32. 5:23 :fiStit'Jte 0 :34: jEEl‘S later 5.53.2:‘05‘1 from t 73:; .50 virtual 1y ez’dcati on 35:35 smerior to 5522's: being est iii-2525‘. of 81a: =5 Bf training; :‘e' :14 find the? he PR 5 5' Other 0‘5 a . "Ping th‘) :53: ‘9. '3 the lie .' “334‘ . 555315 in t: -.' :Qii . i “See hi ‘5. - Hal-5"." in” CarQ‘ :5. :: ‘ar I.l°-h 1" . ,“‘ 1‘ $ ‘ In nitrr‘. I ’VHSH ‘4. 'fi? u ‘ \H ' ‘QP. I Psng1r“ \- 65 Hampton Institute opened in 1868 with two teachers and fifteen pupils; and two years later, the Virginia legislature granted it a charter. With support from the Freedmen's Bureau and from Northern philanthro- pists who virtually fell in love with the experiment, Hampton beCame the other side of an educational dilemma that was to face Black.. leaders for more than half a century. It introduced the idea of vo- cational education for Blacks and attributed to this type of training a value superior to that offered by the liberal arts colleges that were also being established at this time. Those interested in the advancement of Black education would be placed in conflict by the two styles of training; they would debate the merits of one against the other and find that accepting either would rob them of some advantage which the other offered. During this same period, the Methodist Episcopal Church also moved into the field of producing leadership in establishing colleges for freedmen in the other strategic ares of the South." It founded Walden College, which later became Meharry Medical College, at Nash- ville in 1865 and had already created Claflin Universityat Orange- burg, South Carolina, shortly after the Civil War. These moves; merely foreshadowed the great work in the education of Blacks that was still to be done by this religious organization. Although most of these colleges were offering high school work, one was specifically structured and established mainly for the purpose inpo 66 of catering to those who had been prepared for collegiate and profes- sional training. This was Howard University at Washington, 0.0., an institution conceived at an assembly of the Monthly Concert of Prayer for Missions held at the First Congregational Church in Washington on November 19, 1866. On the following evening, ten persons assembled at the home of H. A. Brewster and unanimouslyvotedto establish an institution of higher learnihg in that city. It was first decided that the school should be named the Howard Theological Seminary in honor of General 0. 0. Howard, but in January, 1867, the idea was en- larged, and the name was changed to Howard University, an institution whose doors would be open to all races and to members of both sexes. Application for a charter was made to the United States Congress in February of that year and was approved by President Andrew Johnson the following month.82 Gradually the university took shape. The normal and prepara- tory department opened on May 1, 1867, with four White girls as stu- dents. They were children of the trhstees.. The Reverend Edward F. Williams, a graduate of Yale College and Princeton Seminary, was appointed Principal. Although the university began operation in a leased frame structure, the incorporators soon secured 150 acres of BZBullock, A History of Negro Education.in the.South, - p. 34. 67 land for $150,000. With the aid of the Freedmen's Bureau and other sources of income, dormitories were built, and the plant was ren- dered free of debt by 1869. The theological department began oper- ating the following September. November saw the establishment of a medical department, the beginning of a pharmacy department, and the opening of a general (freedmen's) hospital. The law department opened in January, 1869 with six students. Five years after the first students were admitted, the university had developed nine de- partments: normal and preparatory, music, theology, military, in- dustrial, commercial college, law and medicine.83 Thus when General Howard assumed his position as the first president of the institution, the main divisions of a germinal university were available to him for future development. The Transition in Black Education In the early 1870's a system of free public schools was being established in the various Southern states. Conditions were being 83The National Freedman, I (August, 1865), 214; I (September, 1865), 2616; 11 (February, 1866), 53. Freedmen's Record, I (June, 1865), 93. The American Missionary, IX (January, 1865), 6. Ihe_ National Freedman, II (February, 1866), 156-169; and Report of the Board of Education for Freedmen, p. 7. Myron W. Adams, A History of Atlanta University, 1865-1929 (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1916), pp. 349-353. Miles M. Fisher, Virginia Union and Sons of Her 68 readied for the development of a socio-politica] detour which would force Blacks who had been advancing toward equal educational and so- cial opportunities to accept a segregated school system as well as a socially restricted society. Moreover, from the period of the 1860's to the late 1960's Blacks were forced to postpone most, if not all, of their desires for a free and open society. This period in the history of Black socio-educational progress completely overthrew all of the rights and privileges gained by Black people during reconstruc- tion--more specifically it introduced a policy of racial segregation, and developed an educational system intentionally designed to per- petuate a segregated social order. This was indeed one of the most important periods in the history of Black education. The opposition of Southern Whites to the political and social equality of Black people was not crushed by the influence of congres- sional reconstruction. Disapproval of Blacks as provided through federal and state legislation persisted in the minds of many Whites. The more sensitive element of the White population felt that Southern rule had actually passed into the hands of Blacks and their Northern supporters. Many complaints were registered along these lines with the joint congressional investigating committee inquiring into the Achievement (Richmond: privately printed, 1924), pp. 17-24. Benjamin Brawley, History of Morehouse College (Atlanta: Morehouse College, 1917). Facts concerning Howard University from The Howard University Bulletin, XXXII (September, 1958), 1-5. 69 condition of affairs in the Southern states. Criticizing the theory expressed in such grievances, the committee reminded Congress of the so-called danger: The complaint . . . goes to the foundation of recon- struction and republican government. It is that minor- ity, differing in opinion from the majority, are not permitted, on questions affecting the majority, to govern according to their own will.84 In fact, overt opposition to the reconstructed government was already in existence, under the system which Congress had imposed upon the South. Moreover, since the various constitutional amend- ments and congressional acts prohibited organized government from limiting the political and social privileges of Blacks, the limita- tion was rigorously imposed by the voluntary associations that con- stituted the South's ever-present elements of racial hatred and vio- lence. Foremost among these was the Ku Klux Klan, a secred order organized in 1865 by a group of White men at Pulaski, Tennessee. Through the usage of hooded masks, the Klan played up the fears and superstitions of Blacks--and succeeded in becoming one of the most 5 ocio-politically dreaded organizations in America. The Klan became its own judge and jury by incorporating the ideals of an estralegal- ized and violent South--which empowered the Klan to defend the Union and the Constitution thereby insuring the superiority of the White race. 84Report of the Joint Select‘Committee (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1872), p. 245. on A QI- rug. - n. , t‘. v._n u ‘\ I n I .0 70 Established government appeared too weak or unconcerned to cope with these instances of organized violence and intimidation. General Alfred H. Terry reported for Alabama in 1870 that life and property in many localities were insecure. Crimes were frequent, and the civil authorities were utterly powerless to prevent or punish those who broke the law. General Alvin Gillem of Mississippi reported that the great defeat in the administration of justice was not in the courts, since once offenders were taken into custody pun- ishment usually followed. The difficulty was in identifying and arresting criminals. Crimes were usually committed (at night) by the Ku Klux Klan and under the cover of a disguise.85 A Change in Southern Politics As the tide of undercover violence arose in the South, Black people's future in the realm of national politics gradually deterior- ated. Problems of greater national scope plagued the Republican 85Report of the Joint Select Committee (Washington, D.C., Government Printing Office, 1872), p. 245. Robert Selph Henry, The Story of Reconstruction (New York: Peter Smith, 1951). For de- tails concerning the Ku Klux Klan and Post Reconstruction, see Henry Steele Commanger, Documents of American History (New York: Appleton- Century-Crofts, Inc., 1949); also, Edward McPherson, The Political History of the United States of America During the Period of Recon- struction (Washington, D.C.: Phillip and Solomon, 1871). J. W. Alvord, Fifth Semi-Annual Report on Schools for Freedmen (Washington, 71 administration, and it was pressured into leaving the South free to handle the question of Blacks in its own way. Meanwhile the image of Democrats changed from that of "trai- tors" to "patriots." This, coupled with increased competition be- tween the parties, caused both the Republicans and Democrats to seek the support of Southern Whites. Rutherford B. Hayes made his famous compromise with the South: to give the Southern people free and com- plete protection of their rights.86 Out of these developments in national and state politics came the famous compromise of 1877 which restored the South to parity with other sections and freed it from Northern intervention in Southern race relations.87 It was very clear by this time that despite the fact that the South had lost the war, it had, indeed, won the peace. During the two decades that followed, conservatives, Southern radicals, and liberals vied with each other for regional support. This required D.C., 1868); Claud G. Bowers, The Tragic Era (Boston: Houghton Mif- flin Company,1929). W. E. B. DuBois, Black Reconstruction (Phila- delphia: Albert Snifer Publishers, 1935). 86For an extended discussion of this era of Black, Southern and American history as it relates to Blacks, see Rayford W. Logan, The Negro in Americanfitjfe and Thogght;r_lhe Nadir, 1877-1901 (New York: The Dial Press, Inc., 1945), pp. 10-14. 87A very detailed and complexly detailed discussion is pro- vided by C. Vann Woodward, Reunion and Reaction (Boston: Little Brown and Company, 1951), pp. 3-21. ‘n 72 that each exert some effort to win the Black vote, and this condition maintained a balance in race relations at the point which segregation had developed during Reconstruction.88 The trend away from Republicanism continued with even greater vigor in the South. One by one the Southern political groups whose competition had been able to maintain a balance in race relations lost their influence, and the will to subjugate Black people gradu- ally emerged into the Open and eventually found its way into the legal and fonmalized social structure of the nation. The Legal Containment of Black People's Civil Liberties. In addition to the abandonment of Blacks by the federal gov- ernment was the institution of a process of legal attrition that was to leave the race in a position of status just above slavery and far short of full citizenship. The congressional power and influence be- hind Black people's civil liberties was to be nullified; the liberties guaranteed them by the Fourteenth Amendment were to be eroded; and their entire lives were to be curtailed by a system of segregation 88For a penetrating account of racism with political over- tones, see, 0. Vann Woodward, The Strange Career of Jim Crow (New York: Oxford University Press, 1955), pp. 26-47. 73 sanctioned by legal authority. The process began with a series of civil rights decisions rendered by the Supreme Court of the United States from 1873 to 1893. First, the citizenship of Blacks was re- defined as a result of the decision handed down in the Slaughter 89 It was in these cases that Justice Samuel House Case§_of 1873. F. Miller and a majority of the court rendered the privileges and immunities clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment meaningless by holding that it was never the purpose of the Amendment to federalize the priv- ileges and immunities of state citizenship and to transfer their cus- tody to the federal courts.90 The court set a precedent in this de- cision, coining a judicial precedent that separated citizenship as granted by the federal government from that within a particular state.91 The court reasoned that privileges of state citizenship rested for their security and protection and were not embraced by the Fourteenth Amendment. Subsequent court decisions exposed Black people to the dis- criminatory will of private individuals who were not acting as agents of the state. This trend as expressed on the national level is best 89$laughter House Cases. 16 Wall 35 (1873). 90For a full analysis of judicial attrition and the nullifica- tion of the equal protection clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, see Robert J. Harris, The Quest for quality.(8aton.Rouge,La.: Louisiana State University Press, 1960), pp. 82-108. 9‘Henry Steele Commanger, Documents of American History (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1963), pp. 71-75. 74 indicated by such cases as U.S. v. Reese, U.S. v. Cruikshank, and Hall v. De Cuir.92 On March 27, 1876, the court ruled in the Reese case that municipal election inspectors in Kentucky could not be in- dicted for refusing to receive and count a vote cast by William Garver, a citizen of African descent. The court held that Congress had not prescribed by "appropriate legislation" punishment for the said, offense. "To limit the Statute in the manner now asked for,9 stated Chief Justice Morrison 8. Waite, “would be to make a new law, not to enforce an old one."93 Clearly reflecting the Slaughter HoUse ruling, the court, deciding in the case of U.S. v. Cruikshank,94 also refused to punish private persons who had broken up a meeting of Black per- sons. According to the highest tribunal, interference.by private in- dividuals could not be a crime when such a meeting was held for some purposes connected with national citizenship. The Supreme CoUrt's decisions in the Civil Rights cases of 1883 struck down all the legal defenses that had been available to Blacks in their fight against discrimination. These decisionS'nulli- fied completely the Civil Rights Acts which prohibited discrimination in places of public accommodation and which had imposed penalties . 92u.s. v. R-ese, 236 Ed.. S63, S66 (1876). 93u.s. v. Cruikshank, 236 Ed., 588 (1876). 94Ham v. DeCuir, 246 Ed., 5470878. 75 directly against persons guilty of such discriminations regardless of whether the state was in any way involved.95 The acts were declared unconstitutional because, in the opinion of the court they were not authorized by the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments. The final links in the chain of containment were forged through the series of statutes, ordinances, and customs enacted to control the most personal aspects of the lives of Blacks. This ac- tion was basic. It laid the foundation for a biracial society, separating Whites and Blacks in distinct castes. Provision was made for the separation of the races on all public occasions where people gather; intermarriage involving Whites and Blacks was prohibited; and a special place in the economic order was assigned to Black workers.96 The walls of caste were raised higher and higher by law and custom. Within the first decade of the Twentieth Century the South had further elaborated its laws requiring separation of the races in various forms of transportation. Between 1911 and 1914 many Southern states passed ordinances segregating residential areas, and the cus- tom of selling agricultural land to Blacks within specific ares of the South became a standard legal and real estate practice. The crop 7* 95Albert 8. Blaustein and Clarence Clyde Ferguson, Desegrega- tion and the Law (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1957), p. 92. 96Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p.72. 76 lien laws, passed in 1865, were still operational at the turn of the century. These laws lingered and persisted in legalizing the contin- ual dependency of sharecropper upon planter. As sharecropping became the basic pattern of Southern agriculture, many Blacks and poor Whites were forced, without choice, into this service. Gradually as the Black's place was further defined in the South, it became very clear that the two races were destined to live in two separate worlds for many years to come.97 The Advance of.Black.Education. It was under the impact of new constitutional.interpretations and statutory laws, that racial segregation became institutionalized and served to provide a special mold according to which Black educa- tion was to be shaped for almost one hundred years. The segregated society of the South limited Black education to a special type which .was considered suitable for their status, it solidified the support of Black schools more in the willingness of financially influential White citizens to provide for them. Most important of all, it di- *rected the develOpment of Black children out of the mainstream of 97Henry Allen Bullock, "Urbanism and Race Relations," in Ru- pert B. Vance and Nicholas J. Demerath, The Urban South (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1954), p. 208. 77 American culture. If there is any period which can be regarded as the beginning of what is commonly called Black education, this is it. The period began with the serious barriers to the education of Blacks that the Whites had restored, and it became quite apparent that these barriers had to be removed if Blacks were to receive any education at all at public expense. There still existed many Whites who opposed any type of education for the ex-slave. Some feared that education would evoke more interference from the federal government. Others felt that it would make Black people unfit for the place to which they had been assigned. There were many Southern Whites who felt that since Blacks paid few taxes, to make education available to them at public expense would entail the exploitation of Whites for the educational benefits of Blacks.98. Also, the attitudes of South- ern paternalism had eroded. Most whites had begun to view Blacks as strangers to whom they owed no obligations. George W. Cable wrote in 1885 concerning Southern sentiments to the extent that he reminded the nation that foremost among all Southern beliefs was the idea that Blacks were by necessity outsiders; that the South had to stabilize its laws, mores and conduct in the conviction thatthe iman of African tincture was, by nature unalterably. an alien."99 98T. M. Logan, "The Opposition in the South to the Free School System," Journal of Social Science, IX (January 1878), 92-94. 99George W. Cable, "The Freedmen's Case in Equality," The Century Magazine, XXIX (January, 1885), 410-411. ‘ 78 Inherent in the very nature of this form of opposition to Black people and their education, were subtle hints as to how the opposition could be softened and how something could be salvaged for the freedmen. There was the hint that any movement to educate Blacks had to consider the Southern view. It had to place the blame for Southern disorganization at his door; it had to place the obligation to change upon his shoulders; and it had to prove that a particular kind ofgeducation could be of decided advantage to both races, espe- cially the Whties.100 ‘The last period of the nineteenth century saw Southern and Northern leaders picking up various hints and advocating a separate education for Black people. In 1872, before the National Education Association, Joseph Hodgson, Superintendent of Public Instruction in Alabama, took the lead in his speech--after citing the "alarming" percentage of illiteracy found in the population of the Gulf Coast States, the Superintendent warned the association that governmental control would mainly shift to the hands of an untutored electorate that was predominantly Black if serious steps were not taken to ex- tend education to both groups.101 100Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p. 75. 101Addresses and Journal of Proceedings of the National Edu- cation Association (Albany: 1872), p. 278; also, see Addresses and Journal of Proceedings of the National Educational Association (Al- bany: 1872), p. 278. 79 Five years later, The Nation extended this view by basing the total solution of "the race problem" on the education of Black people for the intelligent use of the ballot. It criticized the tendency of Black people to commonly vote on political questions, and attributed such collective behavior to mass ignorance rather than common aspira- tion. The constant persistence of such views eventually paid off, and many people who had most bitterly opposed the education of Blacks reluctantly admitted that there was possibly some wisdom in a policy . \ of training the freedmen for their "place in the lower categories of 11fe.55'°2 1ozgunock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p. 76. v o." . b n In... .-.'l '7'." ‘-.i I“. n.“ ‘- ‘- . .,e I u b '5. CHAPTER II THE SOUTHERN EDUCATION CONFERENCES The idea of having separate education extended to Black people received part of its advocacy from General Samuel C. Armstrong, an officer of Black troops during the Civil War, who also founded the Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute for Black youths in 1868, under the auspices of the American Missionary Association. Accepting wholeheartedly the Southern way of.1ife and its belief in the natural inferiority of Black people, General Armstrong outlined the South's chief educational obligation in a speech before the National Educa- tion Association in 1872. He appealed for training schools to meet the overwhelming demands for Black teachers that private and public sources of education had already created. He based the advisability of meeting such a need on several grounds--all of which were accep- table to the South; he contended that the South could not, in its present economic condition, provide these teachers without admitting Blacks to its schools with higher grades. The appropriate point of cooperation between Northern aid and Southern needs, he felt, was in the normal schools.‘ That this education should be special, he based 80 81 on.a concept of racial difference. Speaking of Blacks, General Arm- 1 strong argued that they were "capable of acquiring knowledge to any degree, and to a certain age, at least, with about the same facility as White children." However, he felt that Blacks lacked the power to assimilate and digest knowledge. He further wrote that Blacks ma- tured sooner than Whites, but this did not necessarily steady his mental development. Armstrong said, "He is a child of the tropics, and the differentiation of races goes deeper than skin." General Armstrong cited a great and growing demand for Black teachers and re— minded the association that these teachers were not only best to ele- vate their own race, but were far less obnoxious to Southern White men than White teachers.1 It was less than two decades later that a more clearly struc- tured system of specially segregated education for Blacks began to challenge the liberal idea and method of education which Northern missionaries had established throughout the South. ,Again the South adopted General Armstrong as its chief ideologist. His theory of Black education had matured by 1890, and it had attracted many sympa- thizers and disciples for the movement he had begun at Hampton, and was later to start at Tuskegee Institute under the leadership of Booker T. Washington. 1Proceedings of the National Education Association (Albany: 1872). pp. 175-176. B 1::- . an.- .E‘ - .vvi 1:“: a» 'U’ 82 At the first Mohonk Conference in 1890, held in Ulster County, New York, he was sure that the moral uplifting of Black people could be accomplished through labor. He saw hard work, in its largest sense, as being one of the most vital factors in Christian civiliza- tion: "0f the Negro, I think this labor doctrine is true."2 Arm- strong felt that Blacks had been forced to work all their lives. This had developed in them a profound dislike for labor. They had to be given the idea of the dignity of labor. This, he thought, could be done through the industrial system, which made various opportunities available to Blacks in the agricultural, mechanical, and household industries. It was felt that not only would the oppor- tunities enable Black people to be self-supporting, but they would make them available to the service-oriented industry, thus rendering the South a labor force of great potential wealth. Reflecting upon the result of the Hampton system, he added: An able-bodied student represents a capital of per- haps a thousand dollars. We prOpose to treble that. When they learn to trade, they are worth three-fold more in the labor market.3 There were, of course, mixed reactions to the Armstrong philosophy of Black education. Many educators outrightly rejected 2Isabel C. Barrows, ed., First Mohonk Conference on the Negro Qgestion,rJune, 1890 [held at Lake Mohonk, Ulster County, New York, June 4, 5, 6] (Boston: H. G. Ellis Co., 1890), p. 12. 31 id., p. 14. 83 the idea altogether, embracing a very firm attitude in the opposite direction. Others accepted the theory of industrial education but made it second only to important considerations of a more liberal and classical education. However, on the whole, educators of both races and from all regions agreed in the feeling that Blacks should be trained in a manner Consistent with their position in American life and that this should be mainly industrial in nature. Among those who rejected Armstrong's idea was United States Conmissioner of Education, William T. Harris. In his appearance be- fore the First Mohonk Conference, Harris made a special plea for nor- mal schools in which Black teachers could be trained, but he seriously differed with General Armstrong as to what this training should be: "Education, intellectual and moral," he told the conference, "is the only means yet discovered that is always sure to help people to help themselves." Claiming industrial education to be merely economical in nature, the Commissioner urged that "intellectual education" could preventBlack people from reverting to their former stage of spiritual life."4 Because a segregated way of life had robbed Black people of the more uplifting aspects of social contacts with Whites, Harris be- lieved that intellectual education could achieve a great deal toward helping Black people enter the mainstream of American life. 4The Journal of Education, XLII (November, 1895). p. 332. 84 By 1895, Harris had become even more convinced of the efficacy of his idea. In an address before students at Atlanta University, he lauded the accomplishments in higher education for Blacks being car- ried at that institution. He added this philosophical note: As our civilization is largely derived from the Greeks and Romans, and as Negroes of America are to share it with the Anglo-Saxon, it is very important that the bright minds among them would get acquainted with it, as others have done, through the study of Latin and Greek. This is the more necessary, since, with the advance of civilization and the development of machin- ery, the proportion of manual laborers in every commun- ity is steadily diminishing, while the proportion of the directors of labor agd other brain workers is cor- respondingly increasing. There was, of course, further opposition to the idea of indus- trial education. It came from those educators who felt that industry was the one aspect of American life with which American Blacks were probably more familiar than Whites. Judge A. W. Tourgee expressed such a view in his response to the appeal of General Armstrong at the Mohonk Conference. Since many of the educators at the Conference had referred to the Black peoples' industrial inefficiency, the judge ex- pressed surprise that no one had mentioned the industrial excellence of Black people. “I have always been less impressed," he confessed, "with the industrial needs of the colored man than his industrial achievements."6 51616.. p. 337. 6Barrows, First Mohonk Conference, p. 24. 85 Another educator sharing‘this view was Professor William E. Hutchins of Biddle University. Even though Hutchins accepted the idea of industrial education, he felt that there were obvious reasons why the emphasis should be on education rather than on industrial. To clarify this point, he added: “If there is an industry in the South, the Negroes have it. What they want is education. What can you teach colored women about washing clothes?”7 However, Armstrong soon found an efficient apostle, whose . doctrine was to become a most ianuential one-etc be spread to all areas of the United States in the person of Booker Taliaferro Washing- ton, who, during the Civil War, had managed to acquire some rudiements of education in a night school at Malden, West Virginia, and had entered Hampton Institute in 1872.8 After having matriculated at Hampton until 1875, and later at Wayland Seminary in Washington, D.C., Washington became General Armstrong's secretary. Hampton Institute influenced Washington greatly, for he wrote the following in relation to his tenure there: The great and prevailing idea that seemed to take possession of every one was to prepare himself to lift up the people at his home. No one seemed to think of himself. And the officers and teachers, what a rare set of human beings they were! They worked for the 71bid., p. 29. 8See Booker T. Washington, Up_From Slavery (New York: Double- day, Page and Company, 1933), p. 62. 86 students night and day, in and out of season. They seemed happy only when they were helping students in some manner. Washington's belief in the Armstrong philosophy was very great indeed. In 1881, he was selected by the General, on the appli- cation of Lewis Adams and C. W. Campbell, to start in Tuskegee, a Black Normal School for which the Alabama legislature had appropriated $2,000.00 for teachers' salaries. The school was to be modeled on the Hampton plan.10 It was in this manner that one of the most illustri- ous careers in the history of American education was begun. Thus, too, began one of the most unique educational experiments in the his- tory of the Black man's long quest for control over his destiny. Tuskegee Institute first began holding classes in a run-down shanty near a Black Methodist Church. Washington had learned from General Armstrong that education had to be related to the common needs of life. To be sure, Washington endeavored to make the school an integral part of the community in which it was located. Tuskegee became a success. Its graduates were trained farmers and mechanics as well as trained teachers. In the summer of 1884, at Madison, Wisconsin, Washington spoke 5 before the National Education Association, concerning the issue of 9Washington, Up From Slavery, p. 62. 10Encyclopedia Americana, XXVIII, 747-748. 87 race and the structure of his educational program as it related the problem of race in the United States. This program was structured , upon two basic concepts: first, that the two races (Black and White) had to live together; second, that they could symbiotically coexist. I. He believed that Black people's home was permanently in the South and that the interest in one's race was inextricably bound to the other. He also contended that both races were struggling to adjust to the conditions produced by the war and that anything done for the Blacks would be of no real Value if it also did not benefit the Whites who surrounded them. This confidence he placed in the tendency for ra- cial groups to be useful to and dependent upon each other, was not an empty illusion. It was a result of Washington's fundamental be- lief in the inevitability of human progress. "Progress is the law of God," he said. "One might as well try to stop the progress of a mighty railroad train by throwing this body across the track as to try to arrest the ceaseless advance of humanity."11 Washington's idealism exhibited at Madison was to make him the most dominant and outspoken figure in the area of Black education. Speaking before the Atlanta Exposition in 1895, in the same year and the same city in which William T. Harris had so convincingly extolled 11Samuel R. Spencer Jr., Booker T. Washington and the Negro's Place in American Life (Boston: Little Brown and Company, 1955), pp. 91-93. 88 the virtues of classical education, Washington explained the basis on which Blacks and Whites could make peace with each other in the South. Washington put his educational philosophy to work through the greatTuskegee Experiment. His overall basic aim was to train Black people to do better what they had always done. Consequently, his early efforts at Tuskegee involved studying the conditions under which Black people of Macon County and its surrounding areas lived. It was these conditions which helped shape the curriculum of the in- stitute. One was the landlessness of the masses of Blacks who existed within the shadows of Tuskegee, along with the evils of sharecropping which permeated the Black family, leaving it morally weak and econom- ically insecure.12 Another condition was the aimless mobility of the Black population. The curriculum had to accommodate this problem. As Washington remarked: "Something must be done to stem the swelling tide which each year sweeps thouSands of Black men and women and chil- dren from the sunlit monotony of the plantation to the sunless iniquity of the slums; from a drudging that is not quite cheerless to competi- tion that is altogether merciless."]3 Therefore, agriculture became a main course in the Institute's curriculum. The mission of the school 12Spencer, Booker T. Washington. PP. 56-57. , 13Booker T. Washington, Tuskegee and Its People (New York: 8. Appleton and Company, 1910), pp. 56-57. 89 was largely that of supplying well-equipped teachers for the various schools; it was also intended that the teachers be able and eager to teach gardening and carpentry as well as grammar and arithmetic.14 Washington fOund it necessary to dissuade the students' prejudices against industrial education. To many of them, education was something quite different from what they were receiving at Tuske- gee: It was an escape from the world of work they had previously known. They interpreted education as an instrument designed to set them apart from the rest of the community rather than an influence designed to enablethem to work closely with people. Most of the prejudices students and parents had were elimin- ated through Washington's personal contacts with the students. These contacts began with the school's beginning. After giving an entrance examination in arithmetic, grammar, and history to the first thirty pupils enrolled there, he lined up the entire group for the first of the school's daily inspections. He called attention to missing buttons, grease spots, dirty collars, and other failures to meet the standard of neatness and cleanliness upon which he insisted.15 Among the many impressions which Booker T. Washington made upon the course of education for Blacks in the South, two stand out 141616., pp. 56-57. ISSpencer, Booker T. Washington, pp. 64-65. 90 above the rest. First, his educational philosophy and practice allayed the fears of Southern Whites concerning Blacks and won the support of Whites of the North.and South for the movement of public education. Because of the large numbers of Blacks in the various states of the South, many Whites of the area felt insecure in an at- mosphere where Blacks were struggling for political control, social equality, and mixed schools. Washington assuaged these fears by accepting an educational test as a requirement for voting and imply- ing that the ballot could be reserved fer a few "intelligent" Negroes. He accepted racial segregation as a system with which Blacks could expect to live for many years, and he showed evidence of structuring an educational plan that was an adjustment to it rather than a source of conflict with it. The separate or mixed school question he readily dismissed as a problem carrying its own solution. Responding to a railroad official who raised this question with him in Colorado, Washington said: As a rule, colored people in the Northern states are opposed to any plans for separate schools, and I think their feelings in the matter deserve consideration. The real objection to separate schools, from their point of view, is that they do not feel that they are compelled to go to one school rather than the other. It seems as if it was taking away part of their freedom. This feel- ing is likely to be all the stronger where the matter is made a subject of public agitation. 0n the other hand, my experience is that if this matter is left to the discretion of the school officials, it usually settles itself. As the colored people usually live together there will naturally be schools in which colored 91 students are in the majority; In that case, the pro- gcess of separation takes place naturally and without the necessity of changing the constitution. If you make it a constitutional question, the colored people are going to be opposed to it. If you leave it simply an adminstrative question, which it really is, the matter will very likely settle itself.16 Those Whites who lived near Tuskegee and observed all the effects of Washington's handiwork gradually fell under the spell of Washington's convincing plan. They initially observed with mistrust- ing curiosity. They later permitted and even praised the results of his efforts. Later, Southern Whites contributed funds to the school in order that the work might move rapidly toward what they had been led to believe it could become. Public school superintendents, find- ing this kind of tolerance with regard to the education of Blacks, reconcentrated their efforts to build schools for Blacks at public expense. Northern philanthropists who came to know Washington, re- garded him as a counselor for their interests in the development of Southern education. His influence led John D. Rockefeller to estab- lish the General Education Board in 1902, stimulated the establish- ment of the Anna T. Jeanes Fund, and played a part in the creation of the Phelps-Stokes Fund and the Rosenwald Rural-School Program. Not only were these funds crucial in assisting the Tuskegee extension 16Emmett J. Scott and Lyman Beecher Stowe, Booker T. Washing- .tgg_(New York: Doubleday, Page and Company, 1916), pp. 42-43. 92 program, but they also practically affected every branch of Black education in the South.17 The second and greatestWashington influence probably rested with the weight he extended to the movement of "special education." He left little doubt in the minds of a large number of educators and philanthropists that Blacks required a particular kind of education for their condition. Washington seemed to have looked forward to a totally biracial society of benevolent coexistence with Whites. He chose to educate Blacks within the framework of a racial division of labor that had always existed in the South. Although he did not ad- vocate industrial education for every Black to the exclusion of the professions and other branches of learning, he did imply that the sole excuse for these latter branches was in the existence of the segregated communities where Blacks were forced to live.18 His empha- sis upon the “industrial” hit Black radical leaders with a very heavy force. With the radical interests championed by W. E. B. DuBois, there was a running verbal battle between Washington and the "classi- cal" education leaders for a long period of time. In the end, both the industrial schools such as Hampton and Tuskegee, and the liberal arts schools like Atlanta and Fisk universities were engaged in the ‘8Washington, Tuskegee. Pp. 9-10. 93 task of “Negro education." The two types of schools educated Black youth from different classes within the same caste system. The Capon Springs Conference The idea of a special kind of education for Blacks, advocated by a few individual educators from the North and South, eventually spread to become the basic ideology of the Black school system. Northern and Southern leaders, realizing that an equalitarian approach to the development of educational opportunities for the Black American was not acceptable to White Southerners, joined forces to save for the former slaves what could be salvaged. At the close of the nineteenth century an organization which came to be known as the Conference for Education in the South, and which was to meet annually seventeen con- secutive times in all, came into being under their leadership. In creating this organization, they accepted the caste system imposed by the South and built within it an educational structure of their own. This method of interracial accommodation continued to develop and to produce the kind of leadership that was essential for the establishment of the method as an intentional and acceptable function of Southern society. This method was a compromise--a route over which the Black man's developing educational opportunities could be care- fully directed by a dedicated leadership. Since the South would not '5 IV n MI -‘5 94 accept any other kind of Black education, especially education aimed at developing Blacks for general participation in Southern society, leaders struck a compromise with the South and settled for a special kind of education that would prepare Blacks for the caste system pre- scribed for them by White Southerners. As it turned out, the leaders were men with common educational ideals who were capable of identify- ing the main problem of Black education and building an organization designed to overcome such problems. The ideas generated by the Con- ference for Education gave a new impetus to unviersal education in the former Confederacy and laid the foundation for Black education as we have come to know it. As the minds of Northern and Southern leaders had convened to effect the political compromise of 1877, so did they also meet to effect the educational compromise that materialized two decades later when an Episcopal clergyman from Massachusetts met a former Confeder- ate soldier from West Virginia. The clergyman was Dr. Edward Abbott of Cambridge, who had become dedicated to public service in the field of education through attending the Mohonk Conference on Indian Affairs and International Arbitration in 1890. The soldier was Captian Wil- liam H. Sale, who operated a resort hotel at Capon Springs, West Vir- ginia. Eight years later, while making an extended tour through the South, observing schools and learning their needs, Dr. Abbott stopped at Capon Springs and proposed to Captain Sale that the latter convene ...rl .n 6'.” i- u no 95 a conference on Southern education at his hotel. His proposal was prompted by the successes of other conferences at Lake Mohonk. Sale liked the idea and authorized Dr. Abbott to form a committee to se- lect the persons to be invited and to arrange the program.19 On the advice of his committee, Dr. Abbott arranged a program to explore two basic questions relevant to public education in the South: how could the public school system in the South be improved and made more effective, and was it feasible to introduce industrial education? The first Capon Springs Conference for Education in the South opened on June 29, 1898, and began seeking solutions for the many educational problems that were plaguing the South. Northern and Southern leaders, in what they thought to be one final and benevolent effort to achieve interracial peace, began to establish a common ground on which they could structure a new type of education for Blacks. 5 The very nature of the participants of the Conference made the situation ripe for ideological compromise. Among the founders of this conference were educators who were acceptable to both the North and South. The founders had the trust and confidence of White Souther- ners because of the work they had done with Black schools, which they 19For an extensive description of the initial phases of this movement, see Charles Dabney, Universal Education in the South (Chapel Hill, N.C.: University of North Carolina Press, 1936). n... .eu. 96 headed. They were Hollis Burke Frissell, White, President of Hampton Institute; and the Reverend A. 8. Hunter, also White, President of St. Augustine's College at Raleigh, North Carolina. (St. Augustine's had already won some acclaim for the training of teachers for the state's Black schools.) Present also were the heads of other insti- , tutions whose ideas were compatible with the prevailing Southern philosophy as far as education of Black teachers and learners were concerned. They included Dr. D. J. Satterfield of Scotia Seminary in Concord, North Carolina; Professor Charles F. Meserve of Shaw Univer- sity at Raleigh, North Carolina; Dr. Julius D. Dreher of Roanoke Col- lege in Roanoke, Virginia; President Wilbur F. Thirkfield of Gammon Theological Seminary at Atlanta; and the Reverend George F. Fairchild of Berea College in Kentucky. All of these were White men concerned about the education of Blacks. Thirty-six persons in all attended the first Capon Conference--among them were fourteen ministers of seven denominations and nine presidents of separate colleges for both races in the South. Coming from thirteen different states, including the District of Columbia, these men represented the types of leaders with whom Southerners felt they could be comfortable. The conferees were not divided at all; on educational issues concerning Blacks, they all adhered to Southern racial ideology.20 As was to be expected, ‘ 20Proceedings of the First Capon Springs Conference for Educa- Eign in the South (Capon Springs, West Virginia, 1898), pp. 3-13. ‘— on u v o .1 5. 97 they all met on common ground concerning Blacks and even drew ideo- logically closer to each other in their notions toward race as the conference continued. At the very beginning they began an earnest search for issues of race that were common to all of them; they emerged from their first engagement agreeing on several points. Because they had been concerned with Black education, their discus- sions naturally dealt with this issue. Despite some controversies, their sessions set the pace for a common view that the South had not been that harsh to Blacks and that Blacks had not been so bad for the South. Frissell summarized the issue by insisting that Whites and Blacks could live together in the South and contended that slavery proved that peaceful relations could exist in the South. The Reverend D. J. Satterfield, reemphasized the mutual aid that this new movement offered both races by defining the mission of the conference as that of cooperating with the benefactors of educa- tion to the end of making education successful in the South. In Speaking of cooperation among schools, Reverend A. 8. Hunter finalized the union between Northern and Southern members of the Conference by advising the group that their charge was to combine elements of the democratic spirit of New England with the manners of the South. Speakers at later conferences emphasized a common interest in file matter of education and the mutual benefit that could accrue to 98 both Whites and Blacks as a result of it. J. L. M. Curry greatly pleased the Southerners when he added: I shall not stultify myself by any fresh, argument in favor of Black education, but I must be pardoned for emphasizing the fact that there is greater need for the education of other races. The White people are to be the leaders, to take the initiative, to have the direct control in all matters, pertaining to civiliza- tion and the highest interest in our beloved land. History demonstrates that the Caucasian will rule. 1 He believed that White supremacy should mean friendship rather than hostility toward Black people.22 William H. Baldwin, Jr., who was later to become a powerful factor in both the Work of the Conference and that of Tuskegee, shared Curry's view and added to it a brutal definition of the Black's role in a society of White supremacy. When speaking of education for citizenship, he reported to the second conference: "In the Negro is the opportunity for the South."23 Thus near the close of the nineteenth century, Northern educa- tors had made a crucial decision. They had decided to sell the idea of Black education to White Southerners by sacrificing the principle of racial equality. They also had decided that the best way to assure the sale was to emphasize its value to the purchaser. At the 2‘Proceedings of the Second Capon Springs Conference for Edu- cation in the South (Capon Springs, West Virginia, 1899), p. 28. 22161 ., p. 72. 23Dabney, Universal Education, p. 11. 99 close of the third conference at Capon Springs, it was agreed by all members that the best way to provide training for Blacks was to first provide adequate schools and training for the neglected Whites. Separate schools, there must be, they decided, but the schools would have to be provided for in one body'Of laws, and the system supported by taxes paid by all of the pe0p1e.24 Therefore, this organization of educators gambled on the assumption that their stand in favor of White supremacy would remove the last barrier to universal education in the South and would salvage for Blacks, whatever vestiges of free- dom the movement of Southern restoration had left. It must be noted that all Southerners did not accept this point of view. Many of them were still haunted by the bitter memories of radical reconstruction; some of them feared that the Southern edu- cational movement was another Northern attempt to force social equal- ity upon the South. However, where White educational leaders of the new movement encountered this fear, they always countered it with the assurance that the plan sought to preserve rather than destroy the Southern way of life. When a reporter asked Walter Hines Page, a founder of the Southern Education Board, if there was not a "nigger in the woodpile," his reply was: "You will find when the woodpile is turned over not a nigger, but an educated white boy. He is the fellow we are after. We want to train both the White boy and the Black boy, —__. 24Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p. 93. . “A 100 but we must train the White boy first, because we cannot do anything for the Negro boy until his White friend is convinced of his respon- sibility to him."25 The Governor of Georgia was reported to have re- sponded to the new educational effort by saying, "We can attend to the education of the darkey in the South without the aid of these Yankees and give them the education that they must need. I do not be- lieve in the higher education of the darkey. He must be taught the fine arts, he is aducated above his caste, and it makes him unhappy."26 Eeaders of the movement again responded to criticism with words arranged to be reassuring to the South, but they spoke them with Southern voices. The Review of the Reviews attempted to imply general Southern acceptance when it said concerning the fourth convocation: While most newspapers have shown an intelligent under- standing and appreciation of the purposes of the educa- tional conference held at Winston-Salem in April, the impression has to some extent been created that it was made up in the main of a company of visitors from the North whose particular interest South of the Mason and Dixon line lay in the highest education for the Negro race. The great majority of the members of the confer- ence were in fact, Southern educators, most of t em concerned with the instruction of White pupils.2 Through the invitation of the New York Herald, governors of several Southern states were asked to express their views on the 25Columbia State Journal, April 24, 1903, as quoted in Dabney, FL 46. 5 26Atlanta Journal, April 24, 1901, as quoted in Dabney, p. 46. 27Review of Reviews, XXIV (June, 1901), p. 645. n ’1‘ 1 n, 1': a . 101 movement. Governor Charles B. Aycock of North Carolina responded through a letter to the paper saying: flhe Fourth Annual Conference for Education in the South will be Of great benefit. We know more of the Northern view and the visitors know more than ever the opinions of each other."?'8 Although trading was slow, there gradually appeared evidence that the South was buying the educational product which the North was exporting. The Reverend C. K. Nelson, Bishop of Georgia, on noticing the change, told the Conference of 1899, "We rejoice rightly over the disappearance of sectional lines, and that the great question of moral and social deviation accompanying education has come to be universally 29 That the edu- regarded as paramount to all other considerations." cational ideals pursued by the Conference had at least become a part of the South's thinking was made apparent in the expressions of Gover- nor A. J. Montagne of Virginia before the sixth conference at Rich- mond. In his address of welcome, the governor accepted the concept of universal education for the South. “The education of our people," he said, "is the supreme task of statesmanship, as it is the masses of the people. Political despotism carries with it academic 28New York Herald, April 27, 1901. 29Proceedings of the Second Capon Springs Conference, p. 9. ‘ uv’ 102 despotism."30 As the Southern Education Board, the executive branch of the Conference, progressed in its influence, the movement grew until it finally became one of the most powerful organizations in the South. By the opening of the twentieth century, therefore, the North had once more invaded the South, but this time on more friendly terms. After gaining the support of the Southern people, members of the Conference for Education in the South turned their attention to conditions specifically relating to the schools. First to claim their attention was the lack of standardization which characterized the schools with which they were to work. Some of the difficulties growing out of these conditions naturally pertained to Blacks them- selves. Black people's position in Southern society had given a pe-v culiar shape to their aspirations, often stimulating an ambition which exceeded their reach. As a result of their experiences follow- ing emancipation, many Blacks had been led to believe that education and politics were the chief means by which they could gain respect in the new social order. As their opportunity for political participa- tion dissolved under the heat of disfranchisement, their confidence in education as a social ladder grew stronger. Books, grades, and degrees became the real symbols of an educated person, and knowledge, all too often, was pushed into the background. The tradition of su- perficiality in matters of education--having college degrees without 30Proceedings of the Second Capon Springs Conference, p. 9' 103 corresponding qualifications--was deeply planted into their subcul- tures. ,Those educators who had migrated South adopted the task of uprooting this tradition in order to realize their goals. Since Black people's hopes had been raised beyond the opportunities that Sobtherners were willing to give them, leaders of the conference felt that they were inclined to neglect fundamentals for values which at that time were highly superficial. It was against this type of ra- cial psychology that Booker T. Washington and others spoke and acted. The spirit of the times, moreover, made it "open season" on Northern philanthropy. Every possible scheme for educating Blacks made its way North to elicit the good graces of the benevolent soci- eties. Because of their experiences with Black students and their respective institutions, the edudators agreed during the early phases of their work that the Blacks' capacity for higher education had been aptly demonstrated. These educators were elated that many Southern Whites had gained equal confidence in the academic ability of Blacks. D. J. Satterfield informed the conference: "The county examiners often tell us that they have no better qualified teachers to examine 31 than our Scotia students." Dr. Thirkfield of Atlanta University also took the view that Blacks were capable of acquiring higher 31Proceedings of the First Capon Springs Conference. p. 32. u n5 ' IOII‘ "I. A . l" 104 education. He warned those who doubted his views that judgment on this question could not be based solely upon mental capacity as it was expressed through the participation of the individual in his en- vironment and civilization. Implying that limited participation had inhibited the full development of the Blacks' potential, he reminded the Conference that people had "learned to distinguish between the intellectual capacity, with which God has endowed every race, and the mental and moral acquirements, which are the outcome of civilization and environment.“32 As time progressed, the confidence the educators had in the Black man's mental capacity became restricted to the ideals of spe- cial education around which they were planning to structure his fu- ture. The idea of accepting a segregated society had already begun in the South; the leaders agreed that institutions of higher learning were essential to the development of the leadership within the race. There was the feeling that Black people did not have access to mass systems of cultural diffusion--libraries, the press, and learned classes--as did Whites. They were shut off from higher fellowship in the civil, political, and religious life of the White man and were even isolated in their schools and churches. Thus, the educators concurred that they should train their own leadership. Moreover with the wealth, political power, and vivic affairs in the hands of those 321bid.. pp. 17-19. he in" 'H u u 105 who proposed to have Blacks remain a sUbjected people, Blacks were virtually hopeless without educated leaders. Therefore, it was de- cided that various Black colleges should be made strong for the pur- pose of training ministers, physicians, and lawyers. These educa- tional institutions would be deeded the charge of developing a strong core of professionals who would be responsible for lifting the moral and physical standards of the race. It should be indicated for the honesty of these planners that they did not endeavor to sell Black people short on purpose. They simply attempted to fit training to needs--i.e., individual needs. It was this factor which prompted President Horace Bumstead of Atlanta University to say, "We have too long made the mistake of regarding the race as a homogeneous mass in- 33 With stead of recognizing the diversity of its different classes." reference to individual differences, the Northern educators emerged from their early deliberations with the common agreement that the Black college was to be preserved for the mentally elite. As Presi- dent Bumstead saw it, "The masses may not be able to go to college, but they may send their representative to college, and when he comes home they may be wise by proxy."34 33Proceedings of the Third Capon Springs Conference for Edu- cation (Capon Springs, West Virginia, 1900), p. 55. 341616., p. 60. 106 To be sure, the problem of providing an education for the Black masses persisted. What type of education should be provided for them? Industrial education emerged as an emphatic retort. This answer was practically foreordained, for the leadership of the Con- ference was made up of men who had long been converted to this educa- tional ideology. Robert Ogden, who evolved as a very strong leader of the Conference, had a very influential part in the idea of indus- trial education from the beginning. Ogden and Armstrong were very warm and personal friends. It was in the parlor of Ogden's Brooklyn residence in 1866 or 1867 that a group of men gathered to consider General Armstrong's plan for an industrial institute for emancipated slaves. Hampton Institute was conceived as a result of this meeting and Robert Ogden was associated with Hampton for forty-five years, serving as a trustee, financial supporter, and finally as the head of its board of trustees.35 William Henry Baldwin, Jr., also became a leading exponent of Black industrial education. Baldwin moved South as a businessman, being very conscious of the enormous profit to be derived from the capitalistic exploitation of Black labor. He felt that Black labor was necessary for the efficient operation of his railroad, because he demanded thousands of Black workers--but needed them trained. Bald- win was convinced that the prosperity of the South, including his 35Dabney, Universal£Egucation. pp. 26-27. 107 railroad, depended upon the productive ability of the indigenous pop- ulation; he also felt that the prime sources of this ability was and always would be the Black laborer. Baldwin was even more closely tied than Ogden to the concept of industrial education. It was at the express request of Booker T. Washington that Baldwin gained first- hand familiarity with Tuskegee Institute and later became one of its trustees.36 The Mohonk and Capon Conferences were greatly influenced by the devotees and advocates of industrial education. One of these persons was Captain Charles F. Vawter, who became part of the South- ern education movement at its third conference and remained to win status as one of its main supporters. It was he Who presented the first dramatic appeal for the devotion of some interest to the educa- tion of the Whites. His interest in industrial education had been of long standing. Having developed a strong appreciation for labor and discipline as a result of his agricultural and military experiences, he forfeited his professorship at Emory and Henry colleges and became superintendent of the Miller Manual Labor School, founded for orphans in Albermarle County, Virginia, in 1878. It was at Miller that Vaw- ter took advantage of the opportunity to structure a school which would train the mind and hand simultaneously. Even though the school emphasized the vocational and industrial needs of White people, its 36Ibid.. pp. 149-150. Al' I 0". n- o 'l u 'n '108 founder nevertheless manifested a strong interest in the vocational education of Black people. It was mainly through the influence of such personalities as Baldwin, Armstrong, Washington, and Vawter that the various confer- ences made-three distinct decisions with regard to industrial educa- tion for Blacks: 1) It was agreed at the first conference that the conditions under which the masses of Blacks lived made industrial education an essential part of their school curriculum; 2) Slavery, it was believed, had shaped within their minds some undesirable atti- tudes that this type of education could remove. This condition of servitude had made them believe that work was for the bondman and leisure was for the free. Whites, the educators thought, shared this attitude; 3) It was also believed that this negative attitude had been reinforced under the influence of Northern teachers who, it was alleged, led the Blacks to believe that through books they could en— .Joy the fruits of a literary edUcation like White men. Therefore, ‘there was a concensus expressed at the second conference that the l3lack had been educated from his natural environment and that his edu- cation should concern those fields available and natural to him. This was a very key decision, since it marked the formulation of the concept of "Negro education." Another strategic decision which emerged during the third conference, was the acceptance of the idea that the Blacks' industrial u 1' pl- 0-), or. . .'.. 109 education should be channeled toward increasing the labor value of his group. To the minds of all Southern people, this meant that ‘ Black people would be accorded socio-economic and political recogni- tion in direct proportion to his so—called economic value. Moved by this concept, Baldwin cried out in his advice to Blacks: "Face the music, avoid social questions; leave politics alone; continue to be patient; live moral lives; live simply; learn to work and to work intelligently; . . . learn that it is a mistake to be educated out of 37 These ideals very quickly became a part of the your environment.“ ideology of common schools. Industrial departments sprang up where- ever there were Black schools large enough to have a plot of land for a farm or a small room for a shop and kitchen. These small depart- ments.were used to draw more money from the purses of charitable or- ganizations than any other element of the Black school program, bar- ring the singing of Negro spirituals. Although they may not have in- tended it, the architects of this program designed a structure of education that encouraged the very academic adulteration against which they had spoken so vehemently in earlier conferences. All that was needed in order to complete the job was a crew of construction engineers properly trained to erect the building.38 g 7 37Proceedings of the Second Capon Springs Conference. pp. 5-85. 38 Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South. p. 102. 44 .. 110 As the Conference studied the Black teaching corps in the South, it was found to be deficient on several counts. From the point of view of qualifications, the Conference found "teachers with- out pedagogy." This problem had a history--a history that helped shape the attitudes toward it. When the first schools for freedmen were opened, they were largely staffed by New England missionaries who, having much religious zeal and a firm liberal arts training, proceeded to teach Black children and even adults as they had been taught. Curricula and method were New England in nature. But the newer group of educators who had come South and instituted the Con- ference method of dealing with educational problems evisaged a more "practical" education for Blacks and considered the older method in- adequate in the light of the circumstances under which the race had to live. They knew that the freedmen's schools had grown much more rapidly than the supply of teachers, and they also recalled too many instances in which the qualifications of those who were taught were limited to the ability to read and demonstrate the bare rudiments of learning.39 Many of these individual educators had been involved in efforts to correct the problem. Hollis Burke Frissell, relating his experiences, reminded the Conference as early as its first meeting that during the period from 1869 to 1881, Northern charity had 39L. P. Jackson, "The Educational Efforts of the Freedmen's Aid Societies in South Carolina: 1862-1872," Journal of Negro His- tory, VIII (January, 1923), pp. 1-40. .u n. 111 established Negro schools like Hampton, Tillotson College, Fish Uni- versity and Tuskegee Institute for the purpose of training "young men and women who should make the common schools not only centers of in- tellectual training, but of morality, thrift, agriculture, and home 40 He added that Hampton graduates had made some decided life also." progress along these lines. The problem as he saw it was the small number of teachers available to the large number of schools that needed them. In his report to the third conference, the Reverend G. S. Dickerman emphasized the same need.5 "In most regions of the South," he contended, "no one is competent to teach. Superintendents 41 report this as their biggest problem." Teachers and superintendents in four or five different states reported to Dickerman that appoint- ments to teach were often sold for cash, awarded for political ser- vices, or bestowed for even more objectionable ends.42 Some superin- tendents accounted for this laxity on the grounds that Negro teachers were so scarce that they had to take what they could get, by any method that worked. Others dismissed the entire question by accusing conference leaders of expecting too much of Negroes or of measuring "43 members of the race by "White standards. However, these excuses 40Proceedings of the First caponASprings Conference. p. 5' 41Proceedings of the Third Capon Springs Conference, p. 17. 42Proceedingsof the First Capon Springs Conference, P- 31- 431 id., pp. 7-8. 112 and accusations were not acceptable to the Conference. Its leaders believed that pe0ple could not be elevated any higher than the pre- vailing expectations for them. They decided that in matters like these the denominational schools had a special mission, that they were the chief hope of that time, and that there was a bitter need for additional institutions to share the burden. The future of Negro education in the South was properly viewed as being directly related to the training of teachers. Many factors had contributed to the problem of Black educa- tion. Whites were larger as a group and very powerful in number, wealth, education, and experience. They controlled the government, the schools, mores, customs, and folkways. It was felt by the Con- ference that no plan for improvement of Black people could be con- sidered without the cooperation of the White group. Many causes contributed to the complication of race relations in the South. The historical position of Black people as slaves had a direct effect on the mental attitude, not only in the South, but, to some extent, in the North. The Civil War and reconstruction days created feelings and misunderstandings that included the entire country. In recent years after the Civil War, the extension of econ- omic and social power to the masses of White people in the South negatively inflated their egos upon which the civic and educational interests of Blacks were dependent. This extension of power to the 113 Whites added to the difficulty of distinguishing the irritations of racism from the clashes of economic interests. But. however much the White and Black millions may differ, however serious may be the problems of housing, and education de- veloped incurred by Black people, it has become known by now that the economic future of the South has suffered greatly because of the inadequate training of the Black as well as the White laborer of that section of the country. The fertile soil, the magnificent forests, the extensive mineral resources, and the unharnessed waterfalls were never properly utilized because of the inadequately trained minds of both White and Black men. The extent to which White men realized the economic importance of Black labor is indicated below through an open letter by the Southern University Race Commission. This letter has been called, the most clear-cut statement in favor of the education of Black people that has been issued by any body of Southern White men: The solution of all human problems ultimately rests upon rightly directed education. In its last analysis education simply means bringing forth all the native capacities of the individual for the benefit both of himself and of society. It is axiomatic that a de- veloped plant, animal, or man is far more valuable to society than an underdeveloped one. It is likewise obvious that ignorance is the most fruitful source of human ills. Furthermore it is as true in a social as in a physical sense that a chain is no stronger than its weakest link. The good results thus far obtained, as shown by the Negroe's progress within recent years, 114 prompt the commision to urge the extension of his edu- cational opportunities. The inadequate provision for the education of the Negro is more than an injustice to him; it is an injury to the White man. The South can not realize its des- tiny if one-third of its population is undeveloped and inefficient. For our common welfare, we must strive to cure disease wherever we find it, strengthen whatever is weak, and develop all that is undeveloped. The initial steps for increasing the efficiency and usefulness of the Negro race must necessarily be taken in the school- room. There can be no denying that more and more better schools with better trained and better paid teachers, more adequate supervision, and longer terms are needed for the Blacks as well as the Whites. The Negro schools are, of course, parts of the school system of their re- spective states, and as such share in the progress and prosperity of their state systems. Our appeal is for a larger share for the Negro on the ground of the common welfare and common justice. He is the weakest link in our civilization, and our welfare is indissolubly bound up with his. Many means are open to the college man of the South for arousing greater public interest in this matter and for promoting a more vigorbU§"public effort to this end. A right attitude in this, as in all other important pub- lic questions, is a condition precedent to success. For this reason the commission addresses to Southern college men this special appeal.4 The leaders in the movement for Black educational development defined problems and developed a course of action. They wasted no time realizing that all the difficulties experienced by Southern schools, by Black schools in general, resulted from a lack of coordin- ation in the total educational effort. Therefore, beginning with 5‘ 44Department of the Interior, Bureau of Education Bulletin, 1916, no. 38. Negro Education: A Study of the Private and Higher Schools for Colored People in the United States, I (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1917), p. 5. p" 115 their early convocations, they started to design schemes which pro- mised to bring all the schools of the South under central control. This was the control of a minister without portfolio. The Conference was vested with no legal authority by any Southern state, and yet it wielded an influence as if it were so vested. Its leaders made their impact upon the total educational system of the South through indirect methods. They first created a means by which they could observe what was occurring. Later, they developed almost absolute control over those charitable funds that tended to flow southward for educational purposes, and they institu- tionalized their efforts by creating a permanent team whose responsi- bilities were basically to represent them in the field and execute their policies. When the Second Conference for Education convened at the Capon Springs Hotel on June 20, 1899, a clear definition of its policies was stated, and an organization to implement this definition was created. The leadership of those whose educational ideas had be- gun to dominate the Conference was given official sanction. J. L. M. Curry, agent of the Peabody and Slater boards, sat as president; Robert C. Ogden, businessman from New York presided as vice-president; and the Reverend A. 8. Hunter of St. Augustine's College served as secretary-treasurer. A committee specifically appointed to formulate 116 conference objectives presented and secured the adoption of the fol- lowing resolutions: 1) 2) 3) 4) That the Executive Committee be authorized . . . to employ an agent of this conference, who will work under the direction of Dr. Curry, its president, whose chief duty will be to study conditions in de- tail, and to ascertain such facts with respect to Southern education, both public and private, as will make more clear what methods and agencies are to be encouraged and what to be avoided or reformed, and will secure better harmony in all educational work carried on in the South. Such agent will re- port to the Executive Committee from time to time, and the committee will make annual reports to the conference. That the conference recognizes the discernment and wisdom of the pleas that have been made in its ses- sions for the encouragement of secondary schools and the colleges, and that it recommends the subject as one urgently appealing on the one hand to counties and particular localities, and on the other hand to framers of the educational system and policies of the states. That in the development of industrial education upon the lines now well established by noteworthy models, the conference recognizes a basis for hearty and united cooperation on the part of all friends of Southern education, and further recognizes a hope- ful means toward the better working out of existing social, economic, and racial problems . . . That the conference gives grateful endorsement to the wise and helpful administration of the Slater and Pea- body funds; that it pays tribute to the rare compre- hension and high devbtion with which Dr. Curry per- forms the duties and exercises the discretion develop- ing upon him under those trusts; that it appreciates the urgency of the need for a general committee of direction, in harmony or in conjunction with the management of those funds, to guard against the hazard, and in some cases, harmful use of money con- tributed at the North for Negro education; and fur- ther that we commend the work of teachers' institutes 117 at the South as promoted by Dr. Curry, and appeal for the improvement of all possible means of the 102 of the young women teachers of the common schools. 5 The Conference further extended its organization toward the implementation of its objectives through appointing as its field 46 It also selected a committee agent the Reverend G. S. Dickerman. for the purpose of inquiring into the fraudulent solicitation of funds that had been going on in the interest of Black education. This committee reported at the Third Conference, charging that these solicitations were undermining public confidence and recommending that a special committee be created to serve as a bureau of informa- tion on the subject. ~The bureau's duty was to investigate all schools planning to educate Blacks. Included in the recommendation was the suggestion'that the public be notified ofzthe Conference action and that all persons be asked to consult'this bureau before giving aid to unknown parties. . . By the opening of the twentieth century, the organization of the COnference as the dominant educational force in the South was complete.' In its convocation of April, 1901, the Fourth Conference 5 accepted a resolution to appoint an executive board of seven, who would be fully authorized and empowered to conduct a campaign for free schools for all the people by supplying literature to the press, 451bid., p. 28. 461bid.. pp. 9-13. 118 by participating in educational meetings, and by general corre- spondence. In this way the Conference for Education in the South became the most influential educational force in the history of the region. It spanned the entire policy-making realm of Southern education. Philanthropists consulted its boards before making contributions to Black schools. School officials sought counsel from its agents on such matters as selecting teachers, building schools, or planning curricula; and legislatures were even more greatly inclined to appro- priate funds for educational purposes on the basis of its recommenda- tions. 5 Did this coalition between the North and South really matter? Did the social and political structure of the South alter its course because dedicated men had labored to this end? Answers to these ques- tions were supplied by the various conferences themselves. Although some changes in the public attitude concerning Black education began to appear after the first group of educational missionaries convened St Lexington. Kentucky, on May 2, 1906, it was at this point that the real impact of the Southern educational movement was felt. At this meeting of hundreds of school officials from all over the South, leaders of the new educational movement were given a good opportunity to assess the results of their work. They could see the progress they had finally made toward the solution of their problems. 119 Although Black people were rarely consulted on the plans that created so many changes, they shared some benefits. As funds in- creased for White schools, racial differentials in expenditure became smaller. In a few states the school terms for the races became equal. In most states they remained”unequal even until the late 1960's. Manual arts, domestic science, and other forms of industrial educa- tion were taught in both White and Black schools, but the Black tea- cher was expected to follow this type of curriculum more assiduously. Her students were thought to need the training more. As time passed, this type of education became solely a Black school interest. Some normal schools for Blacks were established out of newly acquired public funds, and many such schools already established were strengthened. The Southern Education Board, at its May 28, l9l4, meeting resolved to close its work and transfer its functions to the General Education Board. Thus came to an end the key force in the South's educational renaissance. The war to make the South accept the educa- tional responsibilities of Blacks had been won. But the peace that ensued had made education universal for Whites and special for Blacks. The aim for equality of educational opportunity in the South, like his aims for political and social equality, had been sacrificed in the interests of peace: CHAPTER III SOUTHERN COOPERATION AND NORTHERN LIBERAL PHILANTHROPIC ACCOMMODATION Despite the effectiveness of the massive educational program launched by the Conference for Education in the South, there remained a major problem--particularly as related to Black schools. The pro- gram had been projected far beyond the range of funds then available to the Conference. The organization's influence, though significant, ”as not strong enough to open the public purse to the extent neces- sary in order to meet the needs of all schools. Consequently, another source of financial support had to be found before the pro- gram of Black education could move ahead. Support was found. It came not so much out of the Southern Paternalism and noblesse oblige to which C. Vann Woodward attributed the philanthropic movement, but mainly from the historical process that made it necessary. The industrial boom that caused the national government to abandon Blacks to the will of the Southern people 1C. Vann Woodward, Origins of the New South (Baton Rouge: l-°'--l'isiana State University Press, l951), p. 40l. 120 121 operated, as if by benevolent design, to create an industrial class whose philanthropy the leaders of the Conference for Education in the South could stimulate. At the close of the nineteenth century an economic revolution had started in the United States. The large populations that had moved westward after the Homestead Act of l862 and the pacification of the Indians were bound into a single economy by the cementing force of the extension of the railroad. The process of urbanization which had started on the Atlantic Seaboard, moved westward to cause development of gateway cities such as Chicago, Cleveland, and St. Louis along the inland waterways until, interspersed with small regional communities, the American inland-industrial empire had come of age. Opening up incredible resources and vast markets for manu- factured goods, these opportunities challenged the imagination and 1' ngenuity of a select group of men who developed large fortunes that Were to support Black education. Thus, when the educational program for Black people had been designed, industrial America had already produced the philanthropists vvho could afford to finance it. Andrew Carnegie, whose philanthropy was to provide libraries for Black colleges had made his start during = this period. Having come to thishcountry in 1848 from Scotland, he had a million-dollar steel plant in operation by 1875 and was well on his way toward building the fortune that would make his philanthrOpy 122 possible. John D. Rockefeller, a twenty-year old bookkeeper, had re- signed his $50~a~month job in the sumer of 1859 to take his first steps toward becoming America's foremost industrial pioneer and most generous philanthropist. Seven years later "his Cleveland refinery had begun to expand with explosive force. The industrialist had be- gun a career that would make him the oil magnate of all the world, savior of a large portion of the South's free public school system, and patron saint of the Black college."2 George F. Peabody had already applied his ingenuity to the de- Velopment of America's industrial class with surprising results. Mov- Ing with his poverty-stricken parents from his native South to Brook- ].Yn, New York, after the Civil War, Peabody had moved from errand boy in a mercantile house to partner in an investment business. By l867 he had built a vast fortune, created an intricate network of relation- ships with large industrial firms, and established a special fund for the advancement of education of his textile properties about the time that Carnegie was building his first steel plant. Less than one decade later Slater was to create a fund for industrial education among the freedmen of the South. Julius Rosenwald, although of a s] ightly later period of American industrialization, is also one of \ Y 2Albert L. Carr, John D. Rockefeller's Secret Weapon (New ork: McGraw Hill Book Company, 1962), p. 18. 123 this group. The fortune that fed his wide philanthropy started with his modest investments in Sears, Roebuck and Company during l895. Of equal significance is the fact that those who were to trigger the great philanthropic movement were also products of the industrial class. While Rockefeller was on the rise, Robert C. Og- den, who was to guide this philanthropy in Black education was es- tablishing himself as an important retail merchant through a partner- Ship with John Wanamaker. William Henry Baldwin, also to become a Source of influence among the potential philanthropists, had begun a career with the Union Pacific Railroad and the Southern Railway Company. It should be noted that these men constituted an industrial C1 ass whose business methods were not wholly acceptable to the Amer- 1°<2an public. Greatly influenced by the Social Darwinists and par- ticularly by Herbert Spencer, these individuals molded an ideology of rugged individualism in order to justify the methods which made Possible their success. The ideas of Henry Demarest Lloyd heavily Contributed to the development of this conflict. Through published articles in the Atlantic Monthly during lBBl, Lloyd characterized the Standard Oil Company, for example, as an unscrupulous monopoly and aroused the country against the industrial class and its business 124 methods.3 The Sherman Antitrust-Act of l890 cause problems for the undisciplined industrialists, by 1898 the labor movement had advanced to the point whereby organized laborers had begun seriously to chal- lenge the exclusive c0ntrol of management over labor policy. To a class burdened with the threats of rebellion against its mannerisms, the South offered a very convenient means of relief. Southern laborers were not strongly organized; there was relative industrial calm between labor and industry; and the mushrooming popu- 1ation of the area offered a very convenient source of cheap labor. Due to the fact,that its tax base had been largely untouched, the sOuth was a very good base for charitable expressions that would serve to possibly repair the image of the industrial class then being threatened by class conflicts in the North. The South presented Northern industrialists with a very good opportunity to regain public atheptance while remaining loyal to the idea of rugged individualism. The industrialists understood very well that charitable contributions to the institutional life of the South could enable Southerners to help themselves, increase the value of labor, and open greater con- sumer markets for manufactured goods. Most important of all, the Smum's educational leadership had passed to those who related to the industrial class--to a breed of men who not only Spoke the language, N H 3Henry D. Lloyd, Wealth Against Comonwealth (New York: alr‘Der and Brothers, 1929), p. 38. 125 but also shared its basic aspirations.' Thus when Ogden and his asso- ciates began their campaign to secure funds for the SUpport of Southern education, they found eager persons prepared to give their money, who were also sorely in need of an opportunity to show their humanitarianism and to preserve the dignity of their class. Special Funds for Special Education The specific type of humanitarianism that Northern industrial- ‘ists intended to direct toward the South was the type to assure the Preservation of educational opportunities for Black Americans. Dif- 1rerent than the religious and benevolent groups which sponosred.the freedmen's movement for education, the various funds established by the industrial philanthropists were not utilized to launch a crusade 01" racial equality. The industrialists were very aloof from the ra- Ci al conflicts in the South, thus they accepted the Southern racial and educational situation in terms of its being the best policy for the South. Rockefeller and other potential donors visited the Fourth COnference in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, when Ogden ran his spe- C1 a] train to the South--the attitudes. of the philanthropists did not Change the direction of Black education which their advisers had pre- V1 Ously determined. o O" l -1.‘ 126 The Peabody fund, having first been established, set the tone Its aim was to keep the social for noninvolvement in racial matters. 4 The Peace while simultaneously adhering to the racial status quo. fund’was to provide financial assiStance to those states that had suffered the ravages of Civil War. Its aim was not to particularly help Black people educationally,even though the scope of its provi- sions made such assistance permissible. This permissive quality was quite evident in the letter that Robert C. Winthrop read the fifteen trustees he invited to assemble at Washington, _D.C. at the request of the donor. In his letter, Mr. Peabody told the trustees: "I will give you . . . the sum of one m1 1 1 ion dollars to be used by you and applied to your discretion for the promotion and encouragement of intellectual, moral, and industrial education among the young of the more destitute portions of the South- err. and Southwestern states of our Union; my purpose being that the berIefit intended shall be distributed among the entire population "1. thout other distinction than needs and opportunities of usefulness to them."5 The elasticity of Mr. Peabody's provisions extended to the t"‘lJStees of the fund an opportunity to financially suport Black \ 4Southern Education Foundation: Biennial Report for 1950-51; 1951-52. pp. 1-2. 5Letter from George T. Peabody to Robert C. Winthrop, et al., February 7, l867. - 127 education within the socioeconomic framework of Southern society. Since the trustees' actions were expected to provide the greatest good for the greatest number, much latitude was left for diplomatic strategy in the very delicate area of race relations. The trustees, moreover, took advantage of the freedom inherent to their trust and directed their efforts toward the task of providing separate schools for both races. Consequently, they established the policy of with- holding financial aid from those states which had not provided for segregated schools, they worked exclusively with other philanthropic funds and movements which tended to recognize separate schools as a desirable manner by which the races should be educated. Closely following the organization of the Southern Education Board, a much more powerful fund, offering many discretionary powers, was created for the general support of Southern education. Robert oQden's influence with the Rockefeller interests reaped its reward when during the period of l902-09, the philanthropist placed $53 .OO0,000 with the General Education Board and accompanied the gift “’1 th suggestions that portions of it be used to meet the special needs of education in the South. With the combination of these two boi’lr‘ds through an interlocking directorate, the financial strength he(:essary for carrying on the new educational movement in the South “ "as virtually assured. Similar to the'Peabody fund, the Rockefeller 128 provisions were sufficiently unstructured to allow Black people to share in the blessings of the fund. Black colleges were as financially deprived as public ele- mentary and secondary schools. The support given by the denomina- tional societies had begun to erode the educational aspirations which Northern missionaries had inspired the establishment of, what many felt, too many colleges. This enthusiasm, moreover, had resulted in the creation of an educational base too broad to be supported by the subsequent flow of funds in the Black educational movement. Equip- ment was inadequate and outmoded as a result of the pressure of num- bers, the weight of persistent use, and the infrequency of replace- ment and repair. Many of these college instructors were very poorly tY‘ained, and there was little hope that the public school would be better staffed. by the graduates who managed to complete courses pre- scribed by these institutions. Realizing that the improvement of Black colleges would not be COHsidered a responsibility of the South, the textile manufacturer, John F. Slater of Norwich, Connecticut, established the Slater Fund for such support in l882: It has pleased God to grant me prosperity in my business, and to put into my power to apply to charitable uses a .\ , . GFor'a very detailed description of the Peabody Rockefeller funds in the Modern Education Board, see Southern Education Founda- $&: Biennial Report for 1950-51 - 1951-52. pp. 26-30. 129 sum of money so considerable as to require the counsel of wise men for the administration of it. It is my desire at this time to appropriate to such uses the sum of one million dollars ($l,OO0,000.00); and I hereby invite you to procure a charter of incar- poration under which a charitable fund may be held exempt from taxation and under which you shall organize; and I intend that the corporation as soon as formed shall receive this sum in trust to apply the income of it according to the instructions contained in this letter. The general object which I desire to have exclusively pursued is the uplifting of the lately emancipated pop- ulation in the Southern states and their posterity, by conferring on them the blessings of Christian education. The disabilities formerly suffered by these people, and their singular patience and fidelity in the great crisis of the nation, establish a just claim on my sympathy and good will of humane and patriotic men. I cannot but feel the compassion that is due in view of their pre- vailing ignorance which exists by no fault of their own. Since most Blacks lived in rural areas and since there was "<>1: much interest in their education anyway, schools for their chil- ‘1Y‘een naturally suffered most from official neglect. It was thus in 'tfiee interest of relieving this suffering and making those schools mOY‘e useful to the people who depended upon them that Dr. Hollis But‘ke Frissell of Hampton Institute and Dr. Booker T. Washington (’1: Tuskegee Institute approached Miss Anna T. Jeanes, a Quaker phil- a"thropist of Philadelphia. They sought financial assistance in the .________ ‘ . . 7Letter from John F. Slater to Rutherford B. Hayes et al., "arch 4. l882. 130 development of rural school programs that had been started by their respective institutions.8 The two educators had ample reason to believe that the Quaker philanthropist would favorably respond to their request. The Friends had maintained a traditional interest in the education of Black PeOple--an interest which extended back to the Civil War. Miés Jeanes had also shown a deep concern for American charitable and edu- cational institutions and had liberally contributed to their support. She had made her first gift to Black education in l905 under the en- couragement of Mr. George Peabody. who was treasurer of the General Education Board at that time. She had sent a check for $200,000 to the Board, designating that the money be spent under the direction of Dr‘. Frissell and Dr. Washington in a program of assisting Black rural SChools. Miss Jeanes apparently liked the work of both Hampton and Tus- kegee and showed an even greater interest in the rural schools and col'nnunities which surrounded them. She gave Dr. Frissell a check for $1 0,000 which was used for the salaries of teachers in extension work and gave a like amount to Washington, who used it to build rural Sehoolhouses in the comunities that surrounded Tuskegee. Not long be1"‘ore her death. the Quaker philanthropist donated one million dollars \ 1 - 8The New Rural School Fund, Inc. (Anna T. Jeanes Foundation, 907-l933, Washington, D.C., 1933), pp. 7-l0. l3l to the rural school effort. She requested that the two educators administer the fund and expend it for the purpose of assisting the "rural schools of the Southern U.S. comnunity," where lived the. great mass of Blacks to whom these schools were alone available. The fund's deed of trust was drawn on April 22, 1907, and incorporation occurred seven months later. Thus came int existence the Negro Rural School Fund.9 Similar to others that had preceded it on the Southern educa- ti onal scene, the Rural School Fund carried its own inclination to- ward the job by nourishing the concept of special education. In l908 the board of trustees formulated a three-step policy in keeping with th‘i s idea: l) that the general education situation be studied care— f”‘u‘l ‘ly, 2) that any work undertaken should be with the entire approval a"Cl cooperation of the local school officials, and 3) that so far as pOssible thesfund should be used to help provide opportunities for eF‘Fective training for rural life among Southern Negroes.10 It was one yeanlater, that the trustees created an organization to stabil- iZe the execution of these policies. At a meeting of its executive \ . 91bid., pp. 8-10; Benjamin Brawley, Doctor Dillard and the W (New York: Fleming H. Revell Co., l930). pp. 56-57. Mes of the Board of Trustees, and Executive Comittee of the £939 Rural School Fund, Inc., New York City, l908. 8 10Arthur D. Wright and Edward E. Redcery, The Negro Rural Ichool Fund, Inc. (Washington. D.C.: The Negro Rural School Fund , r‘<:..1933). p. ll. an. if} 54-. I in n i I v . u- LI‘ o- a A I :‘rr. ‘- \ fl“ 'iiy «- «'v I'D /. 132 committee of July 1, l909, Booker T. WaShington. the chairman, sug- gested the possibility of gathering facts in order to ascertain whether Blacks were indeed receiving a fair share of the funds for their education. and of publishing the facts in a kindly mannner to induce school authorities to be fairer in the distribution of funds. ChairmanWashington made two other suggestions: l) that Dr. James Hardy Dillard of Tulane University, who had been selected as presi- dent of the fund, be given an assistant whose duty would be to go among the people and to urge them to raise money for their own Schools, and 2) that a suitable Southern White man be employed to influence public sentiment in favor of Black education. With 8. C. C81 dwell appointed as field agent for the fund, these suggestions Went into operation December l6, l909, thus firmly placing the Jeanes Rural School Fund under White control.H Greater and probably more extensive aid in the education of BTacks was later given by the philanthropist, Julius Rosenwald; his interest in the general welfare of the race was broader in scope than that of any other individual donor. As early as l9l0 Mr. Rosenwald p] a.Yed a very crucial role in the betterment of the conditions under which Blacks lived in the United States. He became a trustee of \ th 1 Minutes of the Board of ‘Trustees and Executive Conmittee of WRural School Fund, Inc., New York City, July l, I909. t 9’. ' 1.}. as G‘ . w) 133 Tuskegee Institute, maintained sympathetic contact with Bo'oker T. Washington. and aided the institute and its program materially by making gifts in behalf of the rural school movement. Funds provided by this philanthropist made possible the erection of sixteen (16) YMCA buildings and oneTYWCA for Blacks’.‘ These Rosenwald Funds also stimulated other gifts to similar projects in many cities of both North and South, and also supported a large Black housing project in Chicago.12 It was not until 1917 that Mr. Rosenwald brought into exis- tence a foundation that was destined to attract more money to the cause of Black education than any single philanthropic enterprise up to this time. On October 30 of that year, the Julius Rosenwald Fund was incorporated as a nonprofit enterprise under the laws of the State of Illinois. Although its broad chartered purpose was stated as providing for "the well-being of mankind," the Fund more sDecifically aimed to stimulate more equitable opportunities for 8‘ ecks in a Democracy that had fallen woefully short of its promises. I“- did not aim to do the entire job but to enable Whites and Blacks to become accustomed in doing it themselves. Backed by approximately foi‘ty million dollars, which the cash value of the fund exceeded at t3'1e time, Mr. Rosenwald and the directOrs of his trust directed their \ Y ”Edwin R- Embree, Julius Rosenwald Fund: Review of the Two— W. 1938-1940 (Chicago, 1940). p. 8. k e 134 attention first toward building rural schools, later toward the sup- port of high schools and colleges, and finally toward the provisions of fellowships to enable Blacks and Whites of unusual promise to advance their careers.13 No other foundation up to this point in the history of Black education had provided a more benevolent mode of assistance for Black people. By the third decade of the twentieth century, a complete fi- nancial structure for educating Blacks had been formed. Adequate sUpport for building those rural schools that envisioned training young Black people for a rural life had been assured. More uniform standards and closer supervision of these schools had been provided, and the South's fears that these changes would lead to social equal- ity between the races had been reduced by placing supervision of the Work ultimately in the hands of White school officials. The private BTack colleges that had received the blessings of the Southern Educa- ti on Board, but whose future was still uncertain, had been given greater economic security, and had even learned that this security increased in proportion to the emphasis then placed upon industrial education. Although its more permanent endowment was still to come, the Hampton-Tuskegee pattern had become set as the ideal type for the 31 ack school, giving shape to the physical, administrative, and 1nst1tutional growth of the entire Black educational complex. 135 Financing Black Rural Schools and Colleges: The Special Educational Program Consistent with their respective purposes, the various funds persistently supported those special educational activities of Black schools that had been specified as essential to and compatible with White Southern purpose. There was the immediate problem of keeping the schools open. The Peabody Fund was the first to deal with this situation. During the first year of its activity, the board of di- rectors made arrangements in North Carolina and Georgia for the ex- penditure of $4,000 in support of schools "for Black children.“14 The aid given was significantly conducive to the maintenance of schools that would have closed prematurely. It not only retained the teachers for another year, but extended the terms to nine months. The Black schools of Virginia were similarly aided the following year. In 1870, the Fund completely supported all primary school pupils in Mobile, Alabama. During the same year the schools of Hunts- ville, Alabama, were given $2,000'in support of $2,000 pupils, among whom were 1,200 Black children. In his annual report to the trustees on February 15, 1870, the general agent, Dr. Barnabas Sears, of the 14Minutes of the Seventh Meeting of Peabody Fund Trustees, Newport, Rhode Island, July 1, 1869. 136 Fund, announced that $16,000 had been designated for Black education during that year.15 By the following year a definite scale of assistance to pub- lic schools of different sizes was made known to the public. In the explanation accompanying the scale, the Peabody trustees made a distinction between grants to White schools and to Black schools. Black schools were to receive aid at a rate based upon two-thirds of the scale. The general agent instituted this policy on the grounds that “it costs less to maintain schools for the colored children than fbr the White." The fund gave $3,100 to Richmond for local school aid of a Black Normal school, $1,500 to promote public schools for both races; and the remaining $800 to the White normal school of that city. The Black school of each ward of Norfolk. Virginia, was granted $500 by the fund, although maintenance had already been provided by a city ordinance. A school for Whites with 150 pupils and one for Blacks with 200 were maintained in Branford, South Carolina, through grants of $50 and $100 respectively. And the Black school of Montecello. Florida, was given a grant of $200, although there were 100 pupils 16 under two teachers in the school. It nevertheless appears that 15Proceedings of the Peabody Fund Trustees, February 15, 1870. Also see, Ullin W. Leavell, Philanthropy in Negro Education (Nash- ville. Tenn.: George Peabody College for Teachers, 1930), pp. 84-85. 16Proceedings of the Peabody Fund Trustees, February 15, 1870. 137 grants were made more regularly according to need than according to the scale the trustees had worked out. Nevertheless, the trustees of the Peabody Fund directed their activities among Black schools in keeping with the philosophy of racial segregation. During the 1880's, the Fund shifted its interest from the problem of maintaining schools to that of developing teachers. Its biracial policy, however, was continued. It assisted Black teacher training activities in the Negro Normal School at Lynchburg, Virginia (now Virginia Union College) and it provided scholarships for stu- dents in the teacher-training program of several Black colleges. Through a Peabody Grant, South Carolina supported ten students at Hampton Institute that year, and similar grants made it possible for the State of Georgia to give Black students $1,000 scholarships through Atlanta University. The Peabody Normal School of Louisiana was granted $1,300. Twelve institutes for Black teachers were held in Tennessee during that year. When the public school system of the South appeared to be assured, the Fund turned its major attention to the establishment of normal schools. In 1911, the support of the various state agents whom it had maintained was taken over by the General Education Board. And in 1914, When a final distribution of the Peabody Fund was made, its last direCt activity in the field of Black education occurred. It assigned $350,000 to the Slater Fund because the latter was solely devoted to the support of school for 138 Blacks.17 It was in this manner that the influence of George T. Peabody continued to work as a focal part of the financial resources that were being created in the interest of Black education. Whereas the Peabody Fund assisted the Black school program incidental to its support of the public schools in general, the Slater Fund, from its very beginning, boldly entered in the matter of creating special educational opportunities for Black people. Its role in the complex undertaking of aiding Black schools pointed more in the direction of providing the race with opportunities for training of the higher level. The fund supported colleges in order ‘gthat they might develop teachers for the complement of county train- ing schools which it was seeking to build. More specifically, it first provided substantial support for Black colleges which had been established for religious groups; it later financed the building of secondary schools at strategic points in the rural South.18 The implementation of Mr. Slater's benevolent objective of uplifting the lately emancipated population of the Southern states was made possible by a corps of dedicated men who successively ac- cpted the responsibility of directing the work of the Fund. They were Southern men like Dr. Atticus Green Haygood of Atlanta. Georgia, 17Proceedings of the Sixtieth Annual Meeting of the Trustees of the Peabody Fund, New York, 1914. 18Henry Allen Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1967), pp. 129-130. 139 who was elected the first director of the Fund in 1882; Dr. J. L. M. Curry of Alabama, who became the second agent of the Fund; and Dr. James Hardy Dillard, president of the Jeanes Fund and Father of the ' county training school idea.19 It was this idea that became the I Slater Fund's shining example of philanthrOpy in public education. Through the leadership of various members of the board of trustees, the Slater Fund initially focused its energies toward the task of aiding worthy Black colleges whose survival depended upon additional aid. Dr. Curry succeeded in convincing the trustees that they should select for support a few institutions which "would seem to justify special cultivation." Because of the brilliant example that Hampton and Tuskegee had set in the field of industrial educa- tion, these institutions received the largest gifts from the Fund.20 Other Black colleges also claimed the Fund's attention. In observing '.the work of colleges such as Spelman, Claflin, and Toungaloo, the trustees saw a blessing that was touching too few. They recognized that these institutions were serving only 45,000 Black people. Their facilities had to be increased and their coverage widened, the trus- tees felt, if millions of Blacks were to be uplifted by their own 19Letter from Mr. John F. Slater to Mr. Rutherford B. Hayes et al., Norwich, Connecticut, March 4, 1882. 20Will W. Alexander, The Slater and Jeanes Funds: An Edu- cator's Approach to a Difficult Social Problem, an address delivered at Hampton Institute, Va., April 27, 1933. pp. 4-6. 140 schools. During the first year of operation. therefore, the Slater Fund contributed over $16,000 to twelve of these colleges. By 1901, appropriations had increased approximately three times that amount for eight colleges.2] iOver half the appropriations were assigned to Hampton and Tuskegee. Less than five years later. a definite policy was crystalized. Contributions to Black colleges were made mainly through the process of paying the salaries of those employed in the fields of teacher training and industrial education. During the school year 1905-06, the Fund contributed $40,000 for eighteen Black colleges scattered throughout the South. The money Was spent primarily for the estab- lishment and maintenance of industrial departments. This was true for colleges originally established as liberal arts institutions. Shaw University, originally established for the training of ministers, teachers and later doctors, spent over half of its $2.500 appropria- tion to pay the salaries of teachers of cooking and sewing. although a budget of $1,200 was provided for teachers of the normal department. Tougaloo University, a similar institution, spent all of its $3,600 appropriation for teachers in its industrial department. Claflin Uni- versity used $3,900 of its $5,000 appropriation to support teachers of industrial courses. This institution was attempting to teach courses 2lProceedings of the Trustees of the John F. Slater Fund. 1901. 141 in blacksmithing, carpentry, printing, tailoring, machine shop, brick- laying, and painting. Straight University of New Orleans spent two- thirds of its budget of $1,500 for the support of industrial educa- tion, and Paine College used its $150 grant to pay a teacher of car- pentry.22 For twenty-nine years the Slater Fund confined its work to colleges making it possible for these institutions to maintain a foundation upon which a system of secondary education for Black people could be established. The work of the Rosenwald Fund permeated the educational ex- periences of Black people more deeply than that of any other fund. The greatest individual influence in Mr. Rosenwald's first philan- thropies for Black education was his personal acquaintance with Dr. Booker T. Washington. After several contacts, Dr. Washington invited lHr. Rosenwald to visit Tuskegee Institute. Mr. Rosenwald went in the 'fall of 1911.23 On February 12, 1912. Mr. Rosenwald was elected a Inember of the Board of Trustees of Tuskegee. He manifested his appreciation by offering to give to Tuskegee Institute the sume of $5,000 per year for five years on the condition that other gifts be \ 22Proceedings of the Trustees of the John F. Slater Fund, 1 905-1906. 23Jesse Brundage Sears, "Philanthropy in the History of Amer- ican Higher Education," in United States Bureau of Education, Bulle- tin (1922). No. 26, pp. 31-52. 142 secured to make a total of $50,000 per year of additional money for the school.24 When the Rosenwald Fund was reorganized in 1928, efforts were made to enlarge the program in order to aid Black colleges. The char- ter and constitution of the Fund provided that the "entire fund in the hands of the board, be expended within twenty-five years" after the founder's death. The trustees were further permitted at their discretion to use amounts from the principal of the fund. An additional grant was made to the Fund by Mr. Rosenwald at this time, bringing the market value of the Fund close to $22,000,000. In the letter of committal Mr. Rosenwald gave expression to the most modern thought in educational philanthropy in the following words: I am not in sympathy with this policy of perpetuating en- dowments and believe that more good can be accomplished by expending funds, as trustees find opportunities for constructive work than by storing up large sums of money for long periods of time. By adopting a policy of using the fund within this generation, we may avoid those ten- dencies toward bureaucracy and a formal or perpetuatory attitude toward the work which almost inevitably develop in organizations which prolong their existence indefin- itely. Coming generations can be Eglied upon to provide for their own needs as they arise. From the aforementioned $22,000,000, a special attempt was made to develop four "university centers" for the education of ..___¥ 241p d. 25Letter from Mr. Julius Rosenwald to The Board of Trustees or the Rosenwald Fund, April 30, 1928. 143 professional personnel and other Black leaders. A total of $l-l/2 million was contributed to university centers in Washington. Atlanta, Nashville, and New Orleans. The Washington Center was dominated by Howard University. The Atlantic Center was composed of a complex of colleges that included Atlanta University. Morehouse, Clark, and Spelman colleges, and Gammon Theological Seminary. The Nashville Center included mainly Fisk University and the Meharry Medical Col- lege; Straight College and the old New Orleans University originally composed the New Orleans Center. They eventually merged to form Dil- lard_University, named in the memory of the dedicated work of Dr. James Hardy Dillard.26 Other Black colleges, mainly those under private auSpices, were aided by the Fund. Grants were made to a number of them to main- tain summer institutes for teachers, preachers, and agricultural workers. Nevertheless the Julius Rosenwald Fund never faltered in its effort to "maintain a few institutions of the finest standard." Dillard University was given $60,000 toward financing a new admini- stration and classroom building._ This facility was occupied in the autumn of 1935 as Rosenwald Hall. The massive gleaming white struc- ture majestically standing against a spacious green background along 26Audit Report of the Julius Rosenwald Fund. for the years 1927-28 and 1928-29. 144 New 0r1eans' Gentilly Boulevard is a fitting symbol of Dr. Rosen- wald's effective philanthropy. By 1933 the trustees of the Rosenwald Fund began to express their philosophy of education in a way that was to influence the teachers in schools receiving the benefits of their philanthropy: The influence was directed toward both public schools and colleges. As it became evident that no longer was it necessary to provide special opportunities for this neglected group, the Fund resorted to efforts designed to incorporate all citizens into the general stream of American life. It shifted its emphasis to an active pro- gram in the field of race relations. At the close of its work in '1948 every facet of Negro life had been touched by the benevolence of Julius Rosenwald. Out of the total course of events came the education of Black people at the hands of the various philanthropic funds. It was due to the heavy investment of philanthropic funds that education became a way and means of entering the mainstream of American society. CHAPTER IV SEPARATE BLACK EDUCATION Near the end of the nineteenth century, the future of Black people within the social structUre of American life had been settled for the next fifty years. It was very clear that the so-called Black - ‘ ballot had virtually no influence at all; that the two racial groups would constitute distinct socio-racial caste groupings, neither enter- ing into the domain of the other; that White and Black children would be trained in two different kinds of schools--and two distinct socio- cultural worlds; and that Whites and Blacks, even though obligated to the same patriotic symbols, would become two vastly different kinds of people. It must always be said that this settlementwas not one of vengeance but rather one of compromise. Blacks had responded to the disenfranchisement with verbal protests, but had accepted inferior educational and social opportunities as a consolation. They had agreed to align their educational aims to the standards defined in terms of their own limited life sphere rather than aspiring to becom- ing equal to their White counterparts. Having been defeated in their 145 146 efforts to become full Americans. they had settled for a chance to become different. In a successful attempt to save Black schools, Northern Whites.had designed educational opportunities for Black people which were directly attuned to the conditions prescribed by the segregated order. These Northerners had gained substantial fi- nancial support from private philanthropy and had influenced the South to give public support to Black schools under these compromise conditions. It was this detour which determined special education the priority in Black people's extended struggle to gain educational opportunities. Special education for Blacks was more than a series of public schools and colleges. It was, in fact, more than the sys- tem of industrial education to which most of the public schools were thriving at that time. It was a way of life to which Blacks were ex- posed for the purpose of perpetuating their condition of caste, and the schools were to serve merely as the formal channel of this edu— cative process. Thus it was concluded that the traditions of the South would be maintained through a biracial caste-like arrangement of the two groups. Black people were to be socially, educationally, and polit- ically isolated from Whites by means of a rigid socio-segregated so- ciety; they were residentially segregated; they were to be limited to special occupational pursuits by means of job restrictions; they were 147 to be specifically forced into behavior becoming to a Negro through a rigid code of interracial etiquette; and they were to be reinforced in their obedience to the Southern system of caste rules through formal schooling. The point at which this biracial society began forming a way of life for Blacks, tailoring them into a particular social type, and utilizing the schools to serve the ends of segregation marks the real beginning of Black education as a traditional American institu- tion. Separate Education Based on Color At the beginning there was the creation of a new sociocultural setting through which the basic elements of Black education could be informally transmitted and logically instituted. This was to be a private world of color within which the life of every Black person was to be rigidly regulated and to whose limitations the Black schools were to be firmly anchored. This was a world in which the races were to be symbolically organized in all things economic but. as Booker T. Washington had proposed, as separate as the fingers on the hand in all things social. Strategically located in the Blacks' private world of color and skillfully designed to inculcate those values which would 148 adequately adjust Black people to their conditions of caste were the Black schools, public and private. By the first decade of the twen- tieth century, these schools had become definite institutions of Black education. Despite various degrees Of racist indifference and due to the generosity of philanthropic agencies every Black rural and urban community could lay claim to some type of organized educational insti- tution. Setting the pace and characterizing the entire Black educa- tional structure at the public school level were the county training schools that were developed through the generosity of the John F. Sla- ter fund. Beginning with four of these schools in 1911, the Southern states, under the leaderShip and financial support of the fund, had developed to 355 by 1928. By this time, 14,092 Black students inhabit- ing the various counties of the South were receiving secondary educa- 27 Thus there was hardly a tion from 2,379 teachers in these schools. Southern Black community in which a county training school was not operating when the 1933-1934 school year began. The Slater Fund was administered to Black education through a period of fifty years. This fund has greatly contributed to Black 27Edward F. Redcay, County Training Schools and Public Secondary Education for Negroes in the South (Washington, D.C.: John F. Slater Fund, 1935), p. 42. 149 28 They facilitated the establishment of pub- education at all levels. lic high schools for Black students by financially cooperating with all local agencies willing to share the initial expenditures and con- tinue the support. They took the larger elementary schools of rural areas where the Black population was dense and combined them into the largest educational movement which the South had ever experienced. They designed a curriculum that placed emphasis on rural life and established "Smith-Hughes teachers."29 Characteristically located in the open country of a Southern county whose population was predominantly Black, the county training school developed a community-centered program aimed directly at the task of assisting rural Blacks to improve their living conditions within the structure of a segregated society. No action was taken toward the tenant farmer; however, an occasional diplomatic move was made to secure the permission of the landlord to provide some modicum of education for his tenants. Caste regulations were intentionally left undisturbed and influential Whites who feared that the program would threaten the status quo were encouraged to cooperate through an appeal to their self-interest. Local and national philanthropic 28Dwight Oliver Wendell Holmes. The Evolution of the Negrg, College (New York: Teachers College, Columbia University. 1934). p. 1965. 29Wilson Gee, The Social Economics of Agriculture (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1932), pp. 469-530. 150 agents occasionally succeeded in getting them to believe that the school's program would make Blacks more economically useful to them. As the White South gained confidence in the movement. the schools moved solidly under the captivity of the segregated order.30 Industrial education was the core of the county training school's program. Farmers were encouraged to buy farm equipment col- lectively; the schools served as custodians of this equipment and the students used it in their studies. In 1929 farmers who came under the school's influence were encouraged to drop cash crops such as cotton and tobacco and to farm crops such as wheat, vegetables, and live- 31 stock. The agents whom the various state departments of education Thad supplied for Black rural communities furnished the leadership in efforts designed to train Blacks to live at home and like it.32 Following the methods that had been created earlier by the Jeanes teachers, these agricultural leaders taught the people to can fruits and vegetables, to butcher livestock, plant gardens, whitewash cabins, and even make household furniture out of discarded apple boxes and orange crates. Most of this was adult education but some attempt 30For a complete discussion of segregated education see Charles S. Johnson. Patterns of Negro Segregation (New York: Harper and Brothers. 1943), pp. 12-25. 3lRedcay, County TrainingSchools, 45-49. 32 158-159. A. Bullock, History of Negro Education in the South, pp. 151 was made to integrate it with the students' courses just as the Jeanes Plan had specified. Abstract mathematics was replaced by exercises in bookkeeping related to farming and farm products. World geography and history were replaced by a study of the local environ- ment.33 Long before the county training schools were conceived, a thread of Black colleges and universities was woven into the fabric of South's Black belt. These, too, were the product of philanthropic generosity and inevitably became captives of the South's program to educate Blacks for their caste assignments. Thirty of these institu- tions were established during the first decade after the Civil War, and others appeared gradually after that time until, by the middle of this century, 112 such institutions had been established for the Blacks in the South. 1 It must be constantly borne in mind that in any consideration of the Black college that at the beginning of the Civil War Blacks be- gan to receive some measure of a college education. The attainment of any institution of learning for Blacks, including the higher institu- tions, must be measured from that point. The cultural and academic level-of the other American colleges were far different from that of 33IrvinggA. Derbigny, General Education in the Negro College (Stanford University: Stanford University Press, 1947), pp. 47-73. tie Freed")en of are unlque amon With th' Eiacks constitul ‘r; in merlca- T536, were 10“” :rec‘ came into ‘ tie other hand. pation. The fl! tiara eighty yea! iistinct perl'Odf TESS. thus. cove iii; of the Civl mient societie WM mans Bu real. 152 the Freedmen of 1863. Therefore the colleges for Blacks have been and are unique among American institutions of higher learning.34 With the exception of teachers' colleges, the colleges for Blacks constitute the youngest group of institutions of higher learn- ing in America. Nine American colleges, beginning with Harvard in 1636, were founded during the colonial period and more than five hun- 35 The Black college, on dred came into existence by the end of 1860. the other hand, is in the main an outcome of the Civil War and emanci- pation. The first one founded has been in existence, therefore, less than eighty years. This span may be considered as covering four distinct periods. The first period extends approximately from 1860 to 1885, thus, covering the first twenty-five years following the begin- ning of the Civil War. During this time the Union army, Northern ben- evolent societies and denominational bodies, the Black church, and the Freedmens Bureau were busily engaged in attempting to extend to Blacks not only material aid but the beginnings of educational opportunity. From these initial efforts there emerged a class of schools engaged in providing the rudiments of learning for Blacks. That many mistakes were made in projecting the education of Blacks during this period cannot be denied. That the correction of 34Holmes. The Evolution of the Negro College, p. 8. 35Donald G. Tewksbury, The Founding of American Colleges and Universities before the Civil War. vase mista her, when iature of t PM in the ately fo110 vast number chaotic ace the differ-e toward the 3?:artunit) The 153 these mistakes is a slow and expensive process is equally true. How- ever, when the thoughtful student of the times considers the appalling nature of the tasks that faced those~who undertook the business of re- lief in the South during the period of the Civil War and that immedi- ately followed its close, the extensive territory to be covered. the vast number of Freedmen pleading for relief and enlightenment, the chaotic economic and social conditions prevailing in that region, and the difference in the attitudes of the White people of the two sections toward the education of Blacks wemust realize that there was little opportunity for the formulation of any comprehensive scheme of relief. The need for Black education was immediate and necessary.- As a result, almost every religious sect and many other philanthropic or- ganizations were aroused to the highest pitch of missionary zeal by the tremendous moral forces resulting from the slavery agitation and the war, rushed to the South to administer aid to the Freedmen wherever the need seemed greatest and in whatever manner it could be most speedily administered.36 First, one of the unfavorable results of this situation and the attendant emergency measures was the duplication of effort in some places with the consequent neglect in other less favored localities. 36Thomas Jesse Jones, Nggro Education: A Study of the Private and Higher Schools for Colored People in the United States (U.S. Bureau of Education, Bulletin No. 38, 1916), pp. 299-300. Another was 1:1 men spurred little inclin. h. accordance the classical ery. Under 5 to have been , positive resn After Schools were - Studied Subje that time whi acangmes and W the Nort schools attem mm! for th IEide's'llp of schools SUDPll ind tAEreby $1 154 Another was that with so many agencies working with frenzied zeal, often spurred on by denominational motives of conquest, there was little inclination to study the situation carefully and to apply aid in accordance with the findings. 'Also there was an overemphasis of the classical type of education for a people just emerging from slav- ery. Under such conditions it was probably impossible for the work to have been carried on in any other way that would have brought such positive results. After about 1885. although very inadequate, a number of these schools were fairly well organized. A few students who were enrolled studied subjects that were considered above the secondary level at that time which followed, in general, the pattern of the classical academies and colleges in which had been trained the White teachers from the North who, in the main, constituted the faculties of Black 37 This group of students, preparing schools attempting college work. mainly for the Christian ministry and for teaching, furnished the leadership of the next generation. Some of the graduates of these schools supplemented their training by attending Northern colleges, and thereby served as a link between the two fields of educational endeavor. A few Black students took their entire college course in 37Annual Report of the United States Commissioner of Education. 1889-1990, II, 1083. The John F. Slater Fund, Proceedings of the Trustees, 1886, p. 41. Northern schoc tissionary bod characterized WP of schoc the feeble beg efiucators. Tr of course, mai It was Education in t 55 a result of Fund, which we such training Simiia 'Sl'caliy ”Cate no net COme U m“Willy for tum industri kitchens: and and Some of th. eral arts PFOg' faxing to 91:11 N 38 The S 155 Northern schools. Due to the fact that it was the expressed plan of missionary bodies to help Blacks help themselves. This period is characterized by the addition of Black people to the faculties of the group of schools in which they had been educated, thus constituting the feeble beginnings of a Black college-teacher class of professional educators. The schools supported by the Black church denominations, of course, maintained Black faculties from the first. It was after 1882 that the problem of the place of industrial education in the Black colleges was definitely raised, largely perhaps, as a result of the inclination of the trustees of the John F. Slater Fund, which was founded in that year, to favor those schools which gave such training as part of the curricula.38 Similar to the Black public schools, the colleges were strate- gically located. There was hardly a Black community in the South that did not come under the influence of one or more of them. Organized originally for liberal arts purposes, the Black college slowly insti- tuted industrial education as one of its basic functions. Shops, kitchens, and sewing rooms were added as laboratories for the students, and some of the institutions that had been most dedicated to the lib- eral arts program advertised rather freely the emphasis they were pro- fessing to place upon the manual arts. Hampton and Tuskegee had set the pattern, and those colleges that showed the most vivid signs of 38The Slater Fund, p. 28. . l of following this 1 hichhao begun to in of the twentie grew out of some arts became a pol Although Shins of pub] lowed resulted SeirEgating thi DeSpit Setarne Blac‘ lloduCts N0u1 50cm 53(5th that ”Either RECODStruct: Med at Ca len :95 than. \ 3S Poem”: I . App1et: a 156 of following this pattern were given the greatest share of the money which had begun to flow South and into the Black schools at the open- ing of the twentieth century. A system of Black land-grant colleges grew out of some of the older normal schools, and teaching the manual arts became a public compulsion with this group.39 Although some of the reconstruction governments established systems of public schools open to both races. the reaction which fol— lowed resulted in the establishment of a dual system of education by segregating the races in the schools.40 Despite all of the planning which had gone into the idea of separate Black education, it was very clear that some of its by- products would contradict its aims and rise to threaten the separate social system it was engineered to preserve. There were no indications that neither the Restoration that followed the collapse of congressional Reconstruction nor the marriage between North and South that was consum- mated at Capon Springs would be able to survive the tensions of history. These indications particularly appeared in the public schools and col- leges themselves. Apparently neither the schools nor the segregated 39For a detailed account of Hampton and Tuskegee see Francis G. Peabody, Education for Life: The Story of Hampton Institute (New York: 0. Appleton and Co., 1905). 40Albert Bushnell Hart, The Southern South. :munltles WET satisfaction wi types of servic During school movement quite subtle an of growing diss 'he public com; ally similar tc school SYStem c classical acade Moved to be e: iation fer all :h3ught Of, uh ”Y came to mi systems 100kec .,;1 591031, and 1i {5111 led. In18 Cei 157 communities were to serve the caste order without creating some dis- satisfaction with it. Both were to vacillate between two different types of services to two different types of masters. During the early part of the 1870's when the South's public school movement was in its infancy, the signs of vacillation were quite subtle and very obviously unconscious. Nevertheless. the seeds of growing dissatisfaction with the situation were first planted by the public compulsion to make the curriculum of Black schools basic- ally similar to that of other schools. Administrators of the public school system could not ignore the literary aspect of education. The classical academic tradition that had"béen inherited from England proved to be extremely viable. It considered to be the required foun- dation for all types of formal education. Thus, when schools were thought of, whether for Blacks or Whites, the literary tradition read- ily came to mind. Consequently, school superintendents of the various systems looked for literary training in the teachers they sought to employ, and lamented the absence of this orientation in many who applied. In l870 the school examiners of Jones County, North Carolina, complained that both Black and White applicants for teaching certifi- cates were so wanting in fitness that some regard for efficiency had to be sacrified. Nevertheless, no certificate was issued to any i applicant Unt‘“ metic.“ Comm H. Shinn, SUPer scholarship as expected his te earth as a home jest matter dra and mineralogy. sought to quali antics, geogra estlngly no tes recorded. Througha academics compo: attempt to keep Charges 1'n the n aleaentary, acti 'lculum. leferEn vf' 4l i AUnu 428. f. l '. l sacs? 158 applicant until they had passed a tolerably fair examination in arith- 4‘ Commenting on the qualities he looked for in teachers, Josiah metic. H. Shinn, superintendent of public instruction for Arkansas, mentioned scholarship as one of the first requirements for certification. He expected his teachers of geography, for example, not only to treat the earth as a home for man but also to correlate the instruction with sub- ject matter drawn from the allied disciplines such as botany, geology, 42 In all the examinations administered to Blacks who and mineralogy. sought to qualify for a teaching position, competency in English, math- ematics, geography, and spelling was given close scrutiny. Very inter- estingly no test of the teacher's skill in industrial arts was ever recorded. Throughout the South, as for the rest of the nation, basic academics composed the basic character of education for Blacks. In an attempt to keep faith with the industrial education movement, some courses in the manual arts were offered, but these were basically sup- plementary, acting in no important sense as a focal point of the cur- riculum. Different educational movements came later in an attempt to re- vive the industrial emphasis; however, these were directed more toward 41Annual Report of the Superintendent of Public Instruction for the State of Arkansas, l893-1894. 42Biennial Report of the Superintendent of Public Instruction for the State of Arkansas, l893-1894. the larger communi‘ teachers, those te Fund, made valiant innaral areas, t life and practice vere means of cials whose inf‘ "one! for the v Due to Slacks found i tations whose society. The the Black cor mfeSSlOnm to be St“?! The “me" meeting tha dations Bl l920'S N: mama‘s. \ ‘62s] 63 . 159 the larger community than toward the school and its pupils. The Jeanes teachers, those teachers from the North sponsored by the Anna T. Jeanes Fund, made valiant attempts to get local teachers, particularly those - in rural areas, to organize their courses of study around the everyday life and practical needs of the Black community. All of these attempts were a means of making favorable impressions upon visiting school offi- cials whose influence with philanthropic agencies could stimulate more money for the various schools. Due to the fact that the society had been so rigidly segregated Blacks found it necessary that they provide for themselves those insti- tutions whose services were not available to them through the larger society. Therefore the importance which these institutions assumed in the Black community life spotlighted the need to make certain types of professional training available to the population. Black schools had to be staffed with teachers, and these teachers had to be trained. The summer institutes held for Black teachers did not prove capable of meeting the demand. Gradually and with the help of philanthropic foun- dations Black colleges organized normal academic departments. By the 1920's practically all Black colleges were in the business of training teachers.43 43 Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, pp. 162-163. .7 The pulpi ership, for Black mrld. once again mltiplied and wi Black comhunity 1 Although in the interest that it nourishe .391 for and elic “industrial e veretraining 5 [hit the 50% colleges mum sparked the St The d an mt” d6 160 The pulpits of churches had to be filled with intelligent lead- ership, for Black people, finding themselves surrounded by a hostile world, once again turned to a religious faith. These churches rapidly multiplied and with the schools became the most powerful influence in Black community life. Although it has been reported that the Black church functioned in the interest of the caste system for many years, there is no denying that it nourished some serious threats against the system. It cried out for and elicited a leadership whose training exceeded the limits of industrial education. Almost all the private colleges for Blacks were training students in the divinity before the close of the century. What the South did not know at this time was that out of one of these colleges would come the minister, Martin Luther King, whose leadership sparked the social revolt of the 1960's.44 The demand for business enterprises within the Black community did falter despite the unfortunate experiences which had been accumu- lated around the banks and fraternal orders which Blacks had attempted to operate. As time passed the need for these kinds of service insti- tutions grew larger. Financial enterprises, insurance companies, and 44H. E. B. DuBois, Some Efforts of American Negroes for their Own Social Betterment, Report and Proceedings of the Third Conference for the Study of NegrgProblems, held at Atlanta University, May 25- 26, 1898. PP. 42-95. yen newspape mintain a st and, and AH parchasing pc ssall proprie sentists, pr: professional constituted 1 the children education; it ‘orce of disc vas to grow. Durin Six different arts, l'fldustr" t”mush these indUStl‘la‘l to theses °f Blacl for the Black F During ahdhechanica] E i' .lOll tward the 16] even newspaper establishments eventually won sufficient support to maintain a strong position in such southern cities as Durham, Rich- mond, and Atlanta. Although these enterprises shared minutely in the purchasing power of Blacks, they were profitable enough to sustain a small proprietary class within the group. Gradually, physicians, dentists, preachers, teachers, and undertakers developed into a small professional class. These two classes--proprietary and professional-- constituted the upper crust of a world that had turned Black. It was the children of this class who were to demand higher and professional education; it was this class that was to gain power and supply the force of discontent out of which the protest movement of the 1960's was to grow. During the school year l899-l900, Tuskegee Institute offered six different curricula to l,231 students. The curricula were liberal arts, industrial, agricultural, biblical, nursing, and musical. It was through these courses that Tuskegee correlated the literary and the industrial to furnish men and women for leadership in the various phases of.Black community life. Tuskegee had begun to train teachers for the Black public schools. During the school year 1903-l904 North Carolina Agricultural and Mechanical College for the Colored Race evoked a similar inclina- tion toward the literary and teacher-training functions. This institution taughi settanics, industi Many Blacl ammfinga teache haeare best rel for the training I snualliberal at Talladerga, Fisk, preparatory schoo tomites, which at businessmen, and logical deDGi‘tmen theProduction of the twentieth c9, gun to PFOduce a Strategi 0f COIOI‘ and Skl 162 institution taught four different curricula: agriculture, chemistry, mechanics, industrial and liberal arts. Many Black colleges forged ahead in the literary field by accepting a teacher-training and liberal arts responsibility early. These are best represented by the many normal institutes established for the training of Black teachers throughout the South, and by the several liberal arts colleges that operated within the tradition of Talladerga, Fisk, or the Atlanta University group. Begun mainly as preparatory schools, these institutions later evolved into four-year colleges, which would supply public school teachers, doctors, lawyers, businessmen, and college teachers for Black America. While the theo- logical departments of these colleges were beginning to turn toward the production of a formally trained Black clergy by the opening of the twentieth century, Howard University at Washington, D.C., had be- gun to produce a corps of doctors and nurses.45 An Unequal School System Strategically located in the Blacks' privately imposed world Of color and skillfully designed to inculcate those values which would adequately adjust Black people to their conditions of caste ¥ 451 id.. pp. 165-165. were the Blac the tventi ett ofthe Black because of ti manity could Sett‘ tional struc schools that Slater Fund, Southern sta. FUN. had des Chfldren llV' Secondary edt l933-34 there training Schc gan.“ Anoth Sm" that the 4 6John 163 were the Black schools, public and private. By the first decade of the twentieth century, these schools had made their way into the heart of the Black South. Despite some degree of public indifference and because of the generosity of philanthropic agencies, every Black com- munity could speak of some type of organized educational institution. Setting the pace and characterizing the entire Black educa- tional structure at the public school level were the county training schools that were organized through the generosity of the John F. Slater Fund. Beginning with four of these schools in IQll, the Southern states, under the leadership and financial support of the Fund, had developed 355 schools by I928. By this time, 14,092 Black children living in the various counties of the South were receiving secondary education from 2,379 teachers in these schools. Thus, in l933-34 there was hardly a Black southern community in which a county training school was not operating when the 1933-1934 school year be- gan.46 Another view of the enormous influence of John F. Slater will show that the trustees of the Fund he began virtually captured the Black public schools of the South. They facilitated the establishment of public high schools for Black children by financially cooperating with all local agencies willing to share the initial expenditures and 46John F. Slater Fund, Occasional Papers, No. IV, p. 2. continue suppOT areas where thi largest consol‘ designed a cur Keith-Hughes the ppen count acomunity-ce rural Blacks ' asegregated 1 but an occasir alandlord to ally left int Miran would thmugh an ap aiehts Occasi. the School '5 and usefut . the schools the The c°0l>erati< worthy Advanu Of the County rural B1aCks, the attention 164 continue support. They took the larger elementary schools of rural areas where the Black population was dense and combined them in the largest consolidation movement the South had ever experienced. They designed a curriculum which emphasized rural life and established "Smith-Hughes teachers“ as principals. Characteristically located in the open country of the South, the county training school developed a community-centered program aimed directly at the task of helping rural Blacks improve their living conditions within the framework of a segregated society. No attack was attempted upon the tenant system, but an occasional diplomatic move was made to secure the permission of a landlord to involve his tenants. Caste regulations were intention- ally left intact, and influential Whites who had some fear that the program would threaten the status quo were encouraged to cooperate through an appeal to their self-interest. 'Local and philanthropic agents occasionally were successful in getting them to believe that the school's program would make Blacks more economically profitable and useful. As the White South gained confidence in the movement, the schools moved firmly under the captivity of the segregated order. The cooperation of these people thus stimulated marked a new and worthy advance in rural education for Blacks. Inbrief, the purpose of the county training school was to cultivate good citizens among rural Blacks. The success of the county training schools attracted the attention of educational leaders throughout the South. The Slater Fahd receiv county trai Fol' Jeanes teacl fruits and \ cabins, and boxes and or attempts wer the Jeanes p for Black ed; dollars to as I“ replaced PIOducts. No 10C“ em’l't‘onl 165 Fund received the cooperation of other foundations in developing the county training schools.47 Following the methods which had been earlier developed by the Jeanes teachers,48 agricultural leaders taught Black farmers to can fruits and vegetables, to butcher livestock, plant gardens, whitewash cabins, and even make household furniture out of discarded apple boxes and orange crates. Most of this was adult education, yet attempts were made to integrate it with the students' courses just as the Jeanes plan had specified. The development of Miss Jeanes' idea for Black education resulted in her giving an endowment of one million dollars to assist village and rural schools.49 Abstract mathematics was replaced with exercises in bookkeeping related to farming and farm products. World geography and history were replaced by studies of the local environment. 47John F. Slater Fund, Occasional Papers, No. IV, p. 2. Also see the John F. Slater Fund, Proceedingskand Reports, 1972, p. 11. 48Jeanes teaChers were teachers trained in rural schools with support from the Anna T. Jeanes funds. See B. C. Caldwell, “The Work of the Jeanes and Slater Funds," in Annals of The American Academy of Political and Social Science (l913), No. 44. , 49Thomas Jesse Jones, United States Bureau of Education Bulle- tfig,(1966), No. 38, p. l65. Also see, 8. C. Caldwell, "The Work of the Jeanes and Slater Funds,‘I in Annals,of the American Academy of Political and Social Science (1913), No. 49, p..l74. The aim c l) The app0' industria County St 2) The app0' central 1 3) The appo schools schools. The Jear endeavors in th centered upon r SDecial grants ioconferences, Uhard eqUipmer Long bf I hread of side °Ithe Southusl l) 2) 3) 166 The aim of the Jeanes Fund was to provide for: The appointment by the County Superintendent of teachers to do industrial work in rural schools, under the direction of the County Superintendent. The appointment of special teachers to do extension work using central schools as the base of operations. The appointment of county agents to improve rural homes and schools and to create public sentiment for better Negro schools.50 The Jeanes Board assisted from time to time other educational endeavors in the area of Black education. However its policy was centered upon rural schools through support of supervising teachers. Special grants were made to building construction, traveling expenses to conferences, support of summer schools for Negro teachers, and toward equipment for certain rural schools.51 Long before the county training schools were conceived a thread of Black colleges and universities were woven into the fabric of the South's Black belt. These were the product of philanthropic soThe Anna T. Jeanes Fund, Report (1914), p. 9. 5.lStatistical data from the Jeanes Fund Office (lQlZ-l970). generosity and educate Black i tions were esta andothers gent n he 20th ce! Blacks in the : Dwight Efllgyg disclc the social cor first place. First, th: slavery a t0119 was upon him the Dlair Obligatic With the that has 990p1e. Sapaclty tority b. F0urth, m degenera entire n \ . 523e “'7' 19l6. n SChools fOr 'Vernment p 53 a. (New YOrk: v“sity, 19 167 generosity and inevitably became captive of the South's program to educate Black for their caste assignments. Thirty of these institu- tions were established during the first decade after the Civil War, and others generally appeared after that time until, by the middle of the 20th century, 112 such institutions had been established for Blacks in the South.52 Dwight Oliver Wendell Holmes in The Evolution of the Negrg_ College discloses an interesting spectrum of motivations which express the social consensus for the establishment of Black colleges in the first place. First, the Negro having been rescued from the hell of slavery and two and a half centuries of unrequitted toil, was worthy of everything the nation could bestow upon him by way of recompense . . . . Second, it was the plain duty of a Christian nation to discharge this obligation to the freedmen promptly by providing them with the same means of mental and moral development that has proved effective in the advance of White people. Third, the Negro possessed the same mental capacity as the White man, his apparent mental infer- iority being due to the debasing effect of slavery. Fourth, without education, the Negro would rapidly degenerate and become a national menace . . . to the entire nation.53 52See Department of the Interior, Bureau of Education, Bulle- tin, l916, No. 39, Negro Education: A Study of the Private and Higher Schools for Colored People in the United States, Vol. 2 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1917). 53Dwight O. W. Holmes, The Evolution of the Negro College (New York: Bureau of Publications, Teachers College, Columbia Uni- versity, l934), pp. 68-69. The Sou lhe Slater Func in creation a practically ar years of high travel too fa available to of its influ- race and cas did venture Pressing 39:; various phil Officials wt \ 548. “50 See. w. “mt Publ Horace Mann m (Engle: H‘Hers I'HOW More in “delights 1' ms“)! in P "35 founded the Afl‘l'can Assoctmm ' 168 The South's system of Black education was completed by 1933. The Slater Fund and other similar philanthropic agencies inspired the creation and development of secondary schools for Blacks, and practically any Black child in the South could receive at least two years of high school training at public expense without having to travel too far to receive it. Higher education had also been made available to Blacks, and the Black South had begun to feel the effects of its influence. Even though they did not attack the question of race and caste, the private colleges, with their greater freedom, did venture in this direction. They endeavored to elevate Blacks by pressing against the extreme end of the range of tolerance set by the various philanthropic agencies that gave them support and by the state officials who gave them their rating.54 54Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p. 160; also see, W. E. DuBois, "The College-Bred Negro," in The Atlanta Uni- versity Publications (New York: Arno Press, l968), pp. 48-49. Horace Mann Bond, The Education of the Negro in the American Social Order (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1934). p. 57; Kelley Miller, "Howard: The National Negro University," in Alain Locke, Ihg_ New Negro (New York: Arno Press, l968), p. 32l. Some interesting sidelights in the development of Black colleges are: l) Lincoln Uni- versity in Pennsylvania was founded by the Presbyterians. Wilberforce was founded by the Methodist Episcopal Church; but was purchased by the African Methodist Episcopals in 1862. 2) The American Missionary Association established or played a vital role in the establishment of many of the best known Black colleges, including Fisk, LeMoyne, Hampton, Tougaloo, and Talladega. In vi developing th beginning the its aims and preserve. Th growth and pr struction nor the North am able to surv‘ 1” the publi ther the sch Caste Order 1 to Vacillate tties of ser Anot trial and he munitjes cerl l l found it he services wer- 916x, More 169 A System of Education in Subtle Rebellion In view of the time and effort which had been expended into developing the Black educational movement, it was very clear from the beginning that various by-products of the movement would contradict its aims and move to threaten the social system it was designed to preserve. There were various indications that neither the period of growth and progress which followed the end of congressional recon- struction nor political, educational, and philanthropic alliance of the North and South which was consummated at Capon Springs would be able to survive the forces of American history. These forces appeared in the public schools and colleges themselves. It was time that nei— ther the schools nor the segregated communities were to serve the caste order without causing some degree of dissatisfaction. Both were to vacillate between very different types of services to two different types of services. Another force that inclined Black schools away from the indus- trial and nearer the conventional curriculum was the Black community in which the Black school was firmly anchored. Given that these com- munities constituted a separate part of a biracial society, Blacks found it necessary to provide those institutions for themselves whose services were not available to them through the larger community com- plex. Moreoverthe importance which these institutions assumed in -_'.. Black communit professional t schools to be teachers recei Black teachers the help of p departments. training teac The 1 solely by earn their dynami some source the churches ter in the 1 in Some SOu‘ $l.542,460 °i 5157.678 wood Cliff Chft, "Ed W 170 Black community life spotlighted the need to make certain types of professional training available to them. It was necessary for these schools to be staffed with teachers and it was necessary that these teachers receive training. Even the summer institutes provided for Black teachers were not capable of meeting the demand. Gradually with the help of philanthropic foundations Black colleges organized normal departments. By the 1920's practically all of these colleges were training teachers.55 The revival around the turn of the century was motivated not solely by emotionalism although these needs still prevailed in all their dynamic force; it was also a result of the necessity to provide some source of mutual aid for the depressed Black population. Not all the churches were involved, and most of those that were tended to cen- ter in the larger urban areas. But as early as 1897, Black churches in some Southern cities had accumulated 30,000 active members and $1,542,460 in real estate value. They had aggregated an annual income of $157,678 by that time and were putting forth some effort to protect 55Some of the more readily accessible sources for detailed in- formation on Black higher education during the formative period are: W. E. B. DuBois, ed., The College-Bred Negrg_(At1anta University Press, 1900); Edwin R. Embree and Julia Waxman, Investment in People: The Story_of the Julius Rosenwald Fund (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1949); Horace Mann Bond, "The Negro Scholar and Professional in Amer- ica," in John P. Davis, ed., The American Negro Reference Book (Engle- wood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1966), pp. 548-589; Virgil A. Clift, "Educating the American Negro," in Davis, ed., American Negro Reference Book. PP. 360-395; and St. Clair Drake, "Negro Americans and 171 Blacks against their many frustrations. Twenty-seven of these churches were spending $8,907 annually for charitable purposes and had estab- lished mission units in the slums of these cities. Several were work- ing with homes for the aged, orphanages, and other welfare institu- tions at that time, and some had even ventured to extend help to needy families through a system of home visits.56 The demand for business enterprises within the Black community did not falter despite the negative experiences which accumulated around the banks and fraternal orders that Blacks attempted to oper- ate. As time progressed the necessity for these types of service in- stitutions grew larger, thus causing a rather complete set to come into existing. There first appeared eating, drinking, tonsorial, med- ical, recreational, and other places which offered services of a highly personalized nature. They were seldom attractive or fiscally well maintained; however, their monopolistic tendency to draw patronage encouraged the development of other types of institutions. Financial institutions, insurance companies, and even newspaper establishments eventually won sufficient support to maintain a strong position in the African Interest," in Davis, ed., American Negro Reference Book, pp. 662-705. 56John C. Rose, "Negro Suffrage: The Constitutional Point of View," The American Political Science Review, 1:17-43 (November, 1906). Also see Bureau of the Census, Characteristics of Population, Part II, 1259 (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1952). 172 such Southern cities as Durham, Richmond, and Atlanta. Even though these enterprises shared minutely in the Blacks' small purchasing power, they were profitable enough to sustain a small proprietary class within the race. Gradually dentists, physicians, preachers, teachers, and undertakers developed into a small professional class. The two classes--proprietary and profession--constituted the upper crust of a world that had turned Black. It was the children of this class who were to demand higher and professional education; it was this class that was to gain power steadily and supply the force of discontent out of which the protest movements of later years were to grow.57 Therefore, the many daily needs of the segregated Black commun- ity justified giving young Blacks higher and professional training. Southern Whites realized that if the segregated system was to work, Black schools, particularly the colleges, would have to teach courses in business, economics, joUrnalism, medicine, teacher training, and theology. Some educators, both"B1ack and White, had anticipated this possibility when they contended, as did William T. Harris, in 1890, 57For a penetrating discussion of the Black middle and profes- sional classes, see Patricia Roberts Harris, "The Negro College and Its Community," Daedalus, V01. 100, No. 3 (Summer 1971), pp. 720-731. Harold Cruse, The Crisis of the Negro Intellectual (New York: William Morrow and Company, 1967), p. 5. E. Franklin Frazier, "The Negro Middle Class and Desegregation," Crosscurrents, Summer, 1957, pp. 213- 224; Frazier, Black Bourgeoisie (Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, 1957), p. 174. 173 that Blacks needed a more classical education, which would provide them with more trained leadership.58 The Black colleges responded to this need with great real- ism; they speedily inclined their programs toward literary and pro- fessional fields. Hampton, Arkansas A & M, Prairie View Normal and Industrial, and Alabama Agricultural and Mechanical College were especially founded for the purpose of giving industrial training. Along with eight other institutions which appeared in 1897, they helped form a core around which the land grant system for Blacks was built. Nevertheless, these agricultural and mechanical col- leges very quickly became teacher-training institutions whose actual curricular emphasis was far more literary than it was industria1.59 So it happened that Black education, instead of being specialized along industrial lines, became somewhat of a dupli- cation of the education which was offered to White children. It was separate; it was judged in terms of the value scale held for 58Speech given by William T. Harris at the First Mohonk Conference, June 4, 5, 6, Lake Mohonk, Ulster County, New York. 59Bullock, A History of Negro Education in the South, p. 165. See S. H. Clair Drake, "The Black University in the American Social Order," Daedalus, Vol° 100, No. 3 (Summer, 1971), pp. 833- 893. 174 Blacks; and it symbolized America's dual standard of academic compe- tency. Nevertheless, it was to be the stuff from which revolutions are made.60 60Bullock, A History_of Negro Education in the South, p. 116; Elias Blake, Jr., "Background Paper on the Traditionally Negro Col- lege," The Congressional Record (May 11, 1970), p. E4091. CHAPTER V THE BLACK COLLEGE'S RELATIONSHIP TO THE BLACK COMMUNITY And so they did begin. The founded colleges, and up from the colleges shot normal schools, and out from the normal schools went teachers, and around the nor- mal teachers clustered other teachers to teach the public schools; the college trained in Greek and Latin and mathematics, 2,000 men; and these men trained full 50,000 others in morals and manners, and they in turn taught thrift and the alphabet to nine millions of men, who today hold $300,000,000 of property. It was a miracle--the most wonderful peace-battle of the 19th century, and yet today men smile at it, and in fine superiority tell us that it was all a strange mistake. One of the most important issues of the twentieth century will be to keep the Black college alive and viable. It has been the feel- ing of many Blacks and Whites, that if this can be done, it will in- deed be a miracle for some men are still "smiling in fine superiority," convinced more than ever that Black education has indeed been "a strange mistake," and continues to be so. Was it? Is it? Can it survive? Shall it survive? And in what form, if any? These are the questions before this generation of Americans--a generation already 1Booker T. Washington and W. E. B. DuBois, The Negro Problem (New York: James Pott and Co., 1963), pp. 46-47. 175 176 burdened with a pandorian agenda of war and peace, the misassignment of roles, the pollution of the environment, the increase in crime, the decline of religion, the new morality, the old Establishment, sexual inversion, academic inversion, and the virulence of racism-- the last mentioned having a critical relationship to the survival of the Black college and any of the values associated with it.2 For most of their existence, Black colleges have served higher education within the context of a social structure built upon concepts of racial dualism, racial segregation, while supremacy, and racial in- feriority of Black people. Some of the Black colleges, specifically most of the private colleges, were not founded on these principles. They were, indeed, founded on the hope that former slaves were going to become an integral part of American society. Nonetheless their development through the years was conditioned by the country's racist policies. They suffer the l egacy of those policies today as they face the future. State-supported colleges were founded on the prin- ‘ciple that the state was obliged to support something for Blacks which it also supported for Whites, but with the understanding that whatever it supported for Blacks would be inferior to that which was supported for Whites.3' 2C. Eric Lincoln, "The Negro Colleges and Cultural Change," Daedalus, Vol. 100, No. 3. pp. 603-629. 3Vivian W. Henderson, "Negro Colleges Face the Future," Dee- dalus (Vol. 100, No. 3, Summer, 1971), pp. 630-645. See, The New 177 The social context within which Black colleges have operated has been altered. The Courts have engendered national policy com- mitted to racial desegregation in education as well as other aspects of society.4 It is significant that while Northern philanthropy was not entirely oblivious of Southern objections to Black education, other factors including White and Black religious interests combined to overcome the deflective intent of those objections. For example, a review of the statements of the founders and of the literature, the public addresses, and the sermons of the time quite clearly shows that however wide-ranging were the doctrinal, political, theological, or racial differences of the various groups participating in the found- ing of Black colleges, they were all agreed in at least one interest. Whatever else the Black college was to be, it was to be an agency of moral uplift for Black people. The American culture was in tacit agreement with itself that Blacks were the subjects of a certain New South and Higher Education: A Symposium andCeremonies Held in Connection with the Inagguration of Luther Hilton Foster,pFourth Pres- ident of Tuskegee Institute (1954), pp. 22-23. 4For information on legal action involving desegregated educa- tion for Blacks see the following: Cummingfy. Richmond County,Board of Education, 175 U.S. 528 (1899). Berea College v. Kentucky, 211 U.S. 45 (1908). A. Miller, "Racial Discrimination and Private Schools," Minnesota Law Review, 41 (1957), 145-158., GongrLum v. Rice, 275 U.S. 78 (1927). Missouri et a1. Grimes v. Canada, 305 U.S. 337 (1938); Siphel v. Oklahoma State Regents, 332 U.S. 631 (1958); Sweatt v. Painter, 339 U.S. 629 (1950); McLaurin v. Oklahoma State Regpnts, 339 U.S. 637 (1950). See also Univ. of Maryland v. Mirny, 169 Md. 478, 182 Atl. 590 (1936). Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U.S. 483 (1954). 178 depravity. Two and a half centuries of the White man's moral example had accomplished imperfectly reliable patterns of moral behavior or understanding toward people of mixed ancestry as American Blacks are. In brief, Black people were thought to be morally deficient, ignorant, and unaware of their deficiencies. To be sure, so long as they were chattel, their moral behavior was the responsibility of their White masters, and while every master would agree that the morality of his slaves should be encouraged, few believed it a critical factor in the ongoing life of the plantation. The prevailing view was that it was the nature of Black people to lie, steal, cheat, fornicate, and to avoid work whenever possible. To be indifferent to all Black people was popularly thought of as being of sudden passions, short memory, and a forgiving nature--being especially prone to forgive himself. Hence, the White man's burden was in large part a surrogate responsi- bility for Blacks' inherent incapacity to measure up to the moral re- quirements of a civilized society. In slavery, the master was ulti- mately responsible for his slave in the same manner as he was respon- sible for his dog or his mule, and the moral behavior of slaves were viewed with the same tolerance as that of animals or small children. Moreover, the sudden emancipation of four million Black "chil- dren" who were expected to function as equals in the larger society created a perceived threat to organized society and to established 179 social expectations and obligations. The Black college was thrust into the role of creating moral awareness and exercising moral con- trol over all those within its jurisdiction--a role which has been continually identified with its raison d'etre. The presidents, both White and Black, of the early Black colleges were, for the most part, ministers and were invariably imbued with a strong sense of Black people's moral precariousness. In those colleges controlled by White churches, the sense of Black moral vulnerability was the chief reason for the retention of White administrators long after any serious questions of the readiness and the availability of Black administrators with the requisite professional qualifications could be raised.5 Thousands of White teachers from New England and elsewhere in the North went South to staff the colleges and secondary schools and academies which sprang into existence after the war. Most of them were missionary-minded. The South was the new frontier--a home fron- tier, on which the fight against paganism, heathenism, moral indigence, and consummate ignorance could be resumed. Some paid with their lives for their zeal, and, many suffered unimaginable indignities and hard- ships, because the White South was hard set against the "academic" education of Blacks and it never dropped the notion that the idea of 5Lincoln, "The Negro Colleges and Cultural Change," pp. 609— 611. 180 Black moral instruction was a matter of Southern White responsibility. The White South contended that it had the understanding, the know how--and the means to make the Blacks conform. That education--higher, lower, or whatever kind--would not improve the morals of Blacks, but would only increase his native cunning thereby extending the limits of his natural ability.6 Black Higher Education: The Washington-DuBois Controversy Despite the feelings of the South, it should be clearly ex- plained that Black people's uplift was not the exclusive concern of Northern liberals. Blacks themselves, specifically that core that Washington had in mind when he referred to "the wisest among my race,"7 and perhaps DuBois' Talented Tenth, had decided misgivings concerning their moral adequacy or at least that of the Black masses. Blacks had very little opportunity, if any, for a realistic evalua- tion of themselves against the idealized White overculture which everywhere engulfed and stifled them. Besides, they were constantly reminded of their shortcomings, real and imagined, by the White man, 61bid.. pp. 611-612. 7From a speech given by Booker T. Washington at the Atlanta Exposition, 1896. 181 whose own perspectives were seriously distorted by his momentary po- litical ascendancy, which was too easy to confuse with an inherent godliness. Then, too, Blacks were the subjects of a highly selective religious indoctrination which enlisted God, the Bible, and the White man's assurance of manifest destiny in the insidious clouding of the Black man's claims to humanity. The Black who was so lowly even in the White man's eyes, was determined to "rise," but in the realities of the moral situation in which he found himself, he may have already been well above the heap. Ironically, the truth could be known only through education and because the truth was a body of information ex- ternal to the experience of slavery, it was far beyond the freedman's existing tools of measurement and analysis. Blacks would have to be educated before they could possess any defensible notion of who they were and whether they were moral or not.8 A major role of the Black college, then, was to insure the moral acceptability of the Black vanguard which would in turn leaven the Black masses with teachers and clergymen, and at industrial schools such as Hampton and Tuskegee, with farmers and artisans who by precept and example would lift Blacks by their bootstraps. In a frenzy of racial annoyance, John C. Calhoun of South Caro- lina offered the confession that "if a Negro could be found who could parse Greek or explain Euclid, I should be constrained to think that 8Lincoln, "Negro Colleges and Cultural Change," p. 616. 182 he had human possibilities."9 Calhoun's snide benevolence was no more than an exercise in racist rhetoric. Of course, during this period, it was simply felony for Black people to learn to read and write, and a public whipping was among the penalties provided for anyone who undertook to teach them. However the day did come when the Black college taught students the parsing of Greek and the explanation of Euclid. Eventually, the relevance of a classical curriculum to funda- mental needs of the Black estate would be aired in the now famous de- bate between Booker T. Washington and W. E. B. DuBois. That famous controversy was historically necessary for the establishment of an educational perspective for Black leadership. After all, with Black people having so recently emerged from slavery, the Black experience in education was, to say the least, not extensive, and what kind of educational system would prove most functional to what ends in the short run, and in the long run, was conjectural and problematical. Both Washington and DuBois endorsed the importance of moral uplift in Black education, though not with the same emphasis. A posture of moral concern in education would be inevitable in a strategy of meek- ness, and such a posture would likely be exaggerated in selling a bootstrap philosophy. Said Washington: 9Horace Mann Bond, The Education of the Negro in the American Social Order (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1934), p. 57. 183 The very best that one can render to what is called the higher education is to teach the present generation to provide a material or industrial foundation. On such a foundation as this will grow habits of thrift, a love of work, economy, ownership of property, bank accounts. Out of it in the future will grow practical education, professional education and positions of public responsibility. Out of it will grow moral and religious strength . . . . One farm bought, one house kept . . . . One sermon well preached . . . one life cleanly lived--these will tell more in our favor than all the abstract eloquence that can be summoned to plead our cause. The sentiments of Washington did not radically differ from the prevailing notions of the day. They represent a fair restatement of the Protestant ethic which shaped and conditioned most American think- ing for most of our history. Hard work, thrift, money, and morals are inevitably linked, and, for Washington, moral respectability for the race was the first order of business. This could be accomplished only through hard work--work with the hands--1n the fields, in the shops, in the kitchens. Most important, was the day-to-day level of visible achievement which could be measured by the Negro-watchers, North and South, whose skepticism Washington felt it necessary to allay. He reminded his critics: There is still doubt, as to the ability of the Negro un- guided, unsupported to hew his own path, and put into visible, tangiblei indisputable form products and signs of civilization.1 10Washington and DuBois, The Negro Problem, pp. 10-29. nIbid.., pp. 10-29. 184 Washington, most certainly, had little regard for civilization in the abstract. He saw life and education as being practical and realistic, for the purpose of his task was a very limited one. How- ever, it was also present and real, and the lives and welfare of the pe0ple he sought to lead were irrevocably contingent to the realities of that limited, self-regulated universe. "Patiently, quietly, dog- gedly, persistently," he counseled, "we must reinforce argument with results . . . . Our pathway must be up through the soil, up through the swamps." If the Negro could earn respectability by minding his morals and doing his job well, however humble, tangible rewards would follow in due course.12 For DuBois, classical education for some was necessary to even a society of farmers and artisans, for somebody has to teach the tea- chers, and education is more than the knowledge of a trade. As a matter of fact, classical education reaches full flower only when the proletariat is sufficently leavened to be "raised in morals and manners" as a prerequisite to successful vocational activity. Higher education, he felt, was not for everybody, but he did feel that it was crucial to racial progress and that it should encompass the whole man in the whole universe of mankind. Men of America, the problem is plain before you. Here is a race transplanted through the criminal foolishness 12Lincoln, "Negro Colleges and Cultural Change," p. 614. 185 of your fathers. Whether you like it or not, the mil- lions are here, and here they will remain. If you do not lift them up, they will pull you down . . . . Education must not simply teach work--it must teach life. The Talented Tenth of the Negro race must be made leaders of thought and missionaries of culture among their people. No others can do this work and Negro colleges must train men for it. The Negro race, like all otherISaces, is going to be saved by its ex- ceptional men. There were many who agreed with DuBois, but the question was asked then as it is now--Why a Negro college? To men who had any understanding of the meaning of being Black in a world of whiteness, it was a frivolous question, an asininity.14 Kelly Miller, a very distinguished dean at Howard University, suggested that "One might as well ask, or had better ask, the rationale of Jewish seminaries or Methodist colleges and universities. These racial and denomina- tional schools impart to the membership of their community something which the general educational institution is wholly unable to incul- cate."15 That something is what contemporary supporters of the still existing Black colleges are attempting to discover, re-identity, 13Washington and DuBois, The Negro Problem, pp. 10-29. W. E. B. DuBois, The Souls of Black Folk (1903), pp. 176-177. Charles H. Thomp- son, "The Extension of Citizenship," in The New South and Higher Educa- 3323 (Montgomery: The Parnzon Press, 1954), pp. 62-67. 14Lincoln, "Negro Colleges and Cultural Change-" p. 614. 15Kelly Miller, "Howard: The National Negro University," in Alain Locke, The New Negro (New York: Arno Press, 1968), p. 321. l86 parallel, sell, or promulgate. For Dean Miller, that something was positive, patent, and critical: "But for the Black college, Black scholarship would decay, and Black leadership would be wanting in effectiveness and zeal. The Black college must furnish stimulus to hesitant Black scholarship, garner, treasure, and nourish group tra- dition, enlighten both races with a sense of the cultural worth and achievement of the constituency it represents, and supply the cul- tural guidance of the race.16 Viewed within the context of which it is a part, and with which it has had to contend, the question might be asked whether the Black college has reasonably fulfilled the challenge set before it. A hundred years have passed. They have been years of darkness. They were the years of the terrors of reconstruction--when Black citizen- ship was a travesty of civil justice and the efforts of Black men to participate responsibly in the political process evoked derision and anger and physical reprival. They were years of light when schools such as Clark, Talladega, Atlanta University, Fisk, Howard, Hampton, and Tuskegee were created of the synthesis of White concern and Black determination. Yet these were also years of promise--when Daniel Hale Williams, a Black physician, performed the first successful heart operation at 161bid.. pp. 56—75. l87 Provident Hospital in Chicago; when William A. Hinton, a Black physi- cian on the Harvard faculty, developed a standard test for syphillis; when the Black Tenth Cavalry rescued Theodore Roosevelt from certain defeat by Spanish forces in Cuba; when the National Negro Business League was organized in Boston; when Jack Johnson became heavyweight champion of the world; when W. C. Handy gave the blues to America; when Carter 6. Woodson founded the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History; when George Washington Carver was hailed as “the greatest industrial chemist in the world"; when Eva B. Dykes at Rad- cliffe and Sadie T. Mossell at Pennsylvania, and Gorziana Simpson at the University of Chicago took the first Ph.D. degrees awarded to Black women; when the Harlem renaissance produced Claude McKay, Jean Toomer, Alain Locke, Langston Hughes, Conutee Cullen, and James Weldon Johnson; when Paul Robeson, Roland Hayes, and Marian Anderson inter- preted for America and the world America's only indigenous music, the songs of the Black experience; and when the art of Henry of Tanner, Aaron Douglas, Richard Burthe, and Augusta Savage found its way into the distinctive collections of two continents. It was from the accomplishments mentioned above that the "new Negro" was being created; it was through the literary efforts of this new breed, that America's Black people were to find a new conception of themselves and a deeper spiritual orientation. 188 Racism in Academia The growth of American universities and the spread of graduate education based on the German model (beginning at Johns Hopkins in 1876) coincided with the defeat of Reconstruction and the triumph of social Darwinism as taught by Herbert Spencer, William Graham Sumner, and Lester Ward. Viewed in this context, it is not surprising that the first two generations of Black scholars worked in an atmosphere dominated by anti-Black thinking. From 1876, when Edward Bouchet, the first Black to receive a doctorate at an American university, was awarded a Ph.D. in physics at Yale, to the late 1920's, when the number of Black Ph.D.‘s began to increase at a steady rate, Americah scholar— ship not only reflected the racial attitudes of the larger society, but actively propagated anti—Black views which strengthened public policy and private prejudice designed to trap Blacks in a position of social and economic inferiority. It is impossible to understand the development of Black scholarship if this background is ignored. Usu- ally since these facts are ignored in the discussion of White academic history, it is useful to discuss them here. The most effective ones in academe who were successful in im- posing an attitude of anti—Black bias in scholarship were the histor- ians William A. Dunning and John W. Burgess, whose writings on the Civil War and Reconstruction influenced an entire generation of 189 American historians and the shapers of national policy toward Blacks. It was largely through their efforts that it became the dominant view that slavery was a benign institution and Reconstruction a tragic error based on the mistaken idea that Blacks could enjoy the legal sanctions of the United States Constitution.17 Thus the oppressive racial policies of the South appeared to be vindicated by the best Northern scholarship (Burgess and Dunning were at Columbia University); if it was folly to extend the franchise and education to Blacks, then it was wisdom to enforce White supremacy and segregation, and acceptable to use Ku Klux Klan terrorism to “keep the Negro in hisplace."18 While the nation's leading historians were showing the "disas- ter" it had been during Reconstruction for Blacks to be granted mini- mal freedoms, a formidable body of purportedly "objective scholarship was being produced in the emerging disciplines of sociology and psy— chology, under the strong influence of social Darwinism, to show that 17John N. Burgess, The Civil War and The Constitution, 1859- 1865 (New York: C. Scribner's Sons, 1901), Political Science and Comparative Constitutional Law (Boston: Ginn & Co., 1891), Recent Changes in American Constitutional Theory (New York: Columbia Univer- sity Press, 1923). Reconstruction and the Constitution (Westport, Conn.: Negro Universities Press, 1970). Also see, William A. Dunning, Essays on the Civil War and Reconstruction and Related Topics (New York:’ The Macmillan Co., 1898), Reconstruction, Political and Econ- omic1,1865-1877 (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1907), Truth in His— tory and Other Essays (Port Washington:. Kennicot Press, 1965). 18Michael R. Winston, "Through the Back Door: Academic Racism and the Negro Scholar in Historical Perspective," Daedalus, Vol. 100, No.3 (Summer, l97l), pp. 678- 719. 190 Blacks were innately incapable of rising above the status imposed by 19 This work was very influential because it was White terrorism." considered “scientific? and enjoyed the support of the leading univerr sities of the United States. Among the distinguished social science professors was 6. Stanley Hall, who held the first Ph.D. in psychol- ogy in the United States. and had made an academic reputation as the founder of the psychology laboratory at Johns Hopkins (1883) and The. American Journal of Psychology_(1887). Hall used his academic author- ity in support of anti-Black propaganda while he was president of Clark University (1899-1919). In 1905, his article "A Few Results of Recent Scientific Study of the Negro in America," noted that a "new scientific study of the Negro has arisen and is fast developing established results which are slowly placing the problems of the future of this race upon a more solid and intelligent basis, and which seemed destined sooner or later to condition philanthropy and legislation, make sentiment more intelligent, and take the problem out of the hands of politicians, sentimantalists, or theorists, and place it where it belongs-~with economists, anthropologists, and sociologists.“ What were these research findings which were to "condition philanthropy and legislation."? First, that the "color 19For a very thorough discussion of Social Darwinism, see Richard Hofstatder, Social Darwinism in American Thought (Boston: Beacon Press, 1955), Chaps. 3, 4, and 9. 191 of the skin and the crookedness of the hair are the only outward signs of many far deeper differences, including cranial and thoracic capacity, prOportions of body, nervous system, glands and secretions, vita sexu- alis, food, temperament, disposition, character, longevity, instincts, customs, emotional traits, and diseases.“ Speaking as the leading authority on psychology of his day, Hall associated the alleged pecu- ‘liar emotional intensity of Negroes with unbridled sexuality, leading him to discuss the question of rape, lynching, and social control. "During slavery regular hard work, temperance, of his white masters were potent restraints . . . . Now idleness, drink and a new sense of equality have destroyed these restraints of imperious lust, which in some cases is reinforced by the thought of generations of abuse of his own women by White men upon whom he would turn the tables. At any rate, the number, boldness, and barbarity of rapists, and the fre- quency of murder of their victims have increased till Whites in many parts of the South have told me that no woman of their race is safe anywhere alone day or night . . . . As a preventative of crime, lynching has something to be said for, but more to be said against it! This wild justice is brutalizing upon those who inflict it."20 ' 20G. Stanley Hall, "A Few Results of Recent Scientific Study of the Negro in America," Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, 21 Ser., 19 (1905), 95-107. It is especially interesting to note that when Hall returned to the United'States from Germany in 1872 he applied for a position on the faculty at HOWard, saying that he had "strong preference" for the university. It is not known why he was not 192' The brutality and viciousness and ineducability attributed to Blacks by the psychologists were explained by appeals to anatomy and physiology--these disciplines were even more scientific. It was ar- gued that Blacks were intellectually inferior to.Whites and incapable of higher education because of a genetically determined arresting of development of the brain after puberty. The most influential academic statement of this view was Robert Bennett Bean, a professor of anatomy at the University of Virginia Medical School. The "Negro Brain" de- veloped normally as far as perception, memory, and motor responses were concerned, but logical critical thinking or the comprehension of abstract ideas were beyond its grasp because of its arrested psycho- logical development.21 The degree to which this point of view prevailed is illustrated by Albert Bushnell Hart, distinguished Harvard historian and influen- tial figure in American scholarship. Hart wrote, for example, that hired, but this change in point of view about Negroes may be an index of how powerful a change in public opinion had been wrought by the "New South“ propagandists and their allies. See the facsimile of Hall's letter of March 16, 1872, in Walter Dyson, Howard University: The Capstone of Negro Education, A History, 1867-1940 (Washington, D.C.: Howard University, 1941). On page 104 of the Proceedings Hall writes: "For myself, an abolitionist both by conviction and descent, I wish to confess my error of opinion in those days." It seems from his comments, page 105, that Booker Washington influenced his change of mind. 2lRobert Bennett Bean, "Some Racial Peculiarities of the Negro Brain," American Journal of Anatomy, 5 (September 1906). Pp. 353-432; Marion J. Mayo, The Mental Capacity of the American Negro (New York: 193 "the theory that the Negro mind ceases to develop after adolescence 22 What makes Hart's statement particu- perhaps has something in it." larly interesting is that he served for twenty-three years on the board of trustees of Howard University,23 and had thereby a powerful voice in shaping the opportunities for Black students and scholars. He was one of the Howard trustees in 1926 who opposed the appointment of a Negro president for the first time in its history. An example of the sociological research sponsored by White universities was Howard W. Odum's Social and Mental Traits of the Nggro: A Study in Race Traits, Tendencies, and Prospects, published in 1910 as volume 32 of the Studies in History, Economics, and Public Law, edited by the faculty of political science of Columbia University. Odum, president of the American Sociological Society in 1930, and editor of Social Forces, 1922-1954, was one of the most influential Science Press, 1913); and George Oscar Ferguson, The Psychology of the Nggro: An Experimental Study(New York: Science Press, 1916). 22Aibert Bushnell Hart, The Sogthern South (New York: Apple- ton and Company, 1912), p. 104. 23See Rayford W. Logan, Howard University: The First Hundred Years, 1867-1967 (New York: New York University Press, 1969), pp. 242-243, 309, 634. Even more perplexing is the fact that Hart made his 1912 statement after serving as adViser to W.E.B. DuBois during his graduate work at Harvard. Hart highly praised DuBois' work, and accord- ing to DuBois, who was always sensitive to any racial slight, he was "one of Hart's favorite pupils." See Francis L. Broderick, "The Aca- demic Training of W.E.B. DuBois," Journal of Negro Education, 27 (Winter 1958), 10-16, and W.E.B. DuBois, Dusk of Dawn: An Essay Toward an Auto- biography of a Race Concept (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, Inc., 1940). p. 38. ‘ 194 Southern liberals in academic life, serving as Professor and Head of the SociolOgy Department at the University of North Carolina, and Director of the Institute for Research in Social Science. In recogni- tion of his work Howard conferred upon him an L.L.D. in 1939. In his Social and Mental Traits of the American Negro, Odum wrote a summary of his investigations, relating the proper education of the race to its genetic tendencies, which is worth quoting at length because it represents the opinion of probably the majority of American social scientists well into the 1930's and 1940's. “Inherited tendency," he said,24 and environment of the race conditions, constitute a powerful influence in the education of the Negro child .‘ Back of the child, and affecting him both di- rectly and indirectly, are the characteristics of the race. The Negro has little home conscience or love of home, no local attachment of the better sort . . . . He has no pride of ancestry, and he iS not influenced by the lives of great men. The Negro has few ideals and perhaps no lasting adherence to an inspiration to- ward real worth.’ He has little conception of the mean- ing of virtue, truth, honor, manhood, integrity. He is shiftless, untidy, and indolent . . . . The Negro is improvident and extravagant, lazy rather than industri- ous, faithful in the performance of certain duties, without vindictiveness, he yet has a reasonable amount . of physical endurance. But he lacks initiative; he is often dishonest and untruthful. He is over-religious 24Howard W. Odum, American Sociology: The Story of Sociology in the United States through 1950 (New York: Longmans Green, 1951), pp. 154-155. Also see, Hart, The Southern South. PP. 10-11; Thomas F. Gossett, Race: The History of an Idea in America (New York: Schocken Books, 1965), pp. 253-286. 195 and superstitious. The Negro suspects his own race and the White race as well; his mind does not conceive of faith in humanity--he does not comprehend it . . . . One of the crying weaknesses of the Negro school is the lack of moral strength on the part of the women teachers. It is but natural that children accustomed to gross im- moralities at home and sometimes seeing indications of ' the same tendency on the part of the teachers, should be greatly affected by it at school. Thus with mental stupidity and moral insenSibility back of them the chil- dren are affected clearly, in practice and thought, in deeds and in speech.25 ' Even more revealing of the dominant patterns of thought is Odum's view of the work of the Negro colleges: The young educated Negroes are not a force for good in the community but for evil. The Negro quickly outgrows the influence and control of his instructors; especially has this been noted in cases where the [Northern] Whites have taught them . . . . They imitate the White and be- lieve themselves thereby similar to them.26 Odum's view of the problem of crime is interesting: Nurtured with some hatred toward the Whites, taught no morals, with a fanatic religion, itself leading to erratic actions, with little regard for common decency, and bred in filth and adultery, the Negro is considered peculiarly liable to crime. The reformed Negro criminal is rarely seen, and it is well known that the Negro offender is not cured by the ordinary punishments. 251bid.. pp. 38-41 261bid., p 41 27 ‘ 196 The Emergence of Black Scholars While these scholarly disquisitions were going on, Black people's quest for self-respect began to take a more lasting and con- crete form. What was later to be termed.the “New Negro" was being shaped, and through literary efforts of this new breed, America's Black people were to find a new conception of themselves and a deeper spiritual orientation. This new group aspired to reestablish the ra- cial heritage of Black people, for they felt as Arthur A. Schomburg interpreted so clearly: "The Negro must remake his past in order to make his future.“ They wrote of African kings, Black warriors, Black leaders of slave rebellions, Black jockeys, and the problems of being Black.28 The historical significance of this movement rests not solely upon the change in the intellectual convictions of Black people which their work symbolized. The change was then an attitude of compromise to one of challenge. It meant that Booker T. Washington's philosophy which had prevailed for more than a generation had been condemned and rejected by the Black masses. The success of White supremacist propaganda during "The Hadir," 1877-1901 and after, was so great that the early efforts of Blacks to contribute to the growth of knowledge had been largely forgotten. As 28 Roi Ottley, Black Odyssey (London: John Murray, 1949), pp. 251-252. . 197 early as 1787 Blacks in Philadelphia began organizing a society which embraced literary and other learned interests, and as many as forty- six groups were active before the Civil War. In such cities as New York, separate Black organizations were also formed because of the racial policy of White learned societies. For example, in 1834, the New York Zoological Institute announced that the "proprietors wish to be understood that the people of color are not permitted to enter ex- cept when in attendance upon children and families."29 The earliest of Black scholars are very important in terms of illustrating the interest and seriousness Blacks had in learning and the means by which they cultivated a separate social life than for any residue of solid achievement in the advancement of knowledge. Probably the most important organization not related to a university was the American Negro Academy, established in Washington, D.C., in 1897 by the Reverend Alexander Crummell.30 Crummell was respected by his contemporaries as "among the 31 most scholarly Black men of the age," which was based on his 29Dorothy B. Porter, "The Organized Educational Activities of Negro Literary Societies, 1828-1846, " Journal of Negro Education, 5 (October, 1936), pp. 565. 30For a description of the American Negro Academy, see Mignon Miller, The American Neggo Academy: An Intellectual Movement dgring the Era of Negro Disfranchisement 1897-1924, unpublished M.A. Thesis, in the Negro Collection of the Howard University Library. 31See William Simmons, Men of Mark Eminent, Prgg_essive and Rising (Cleveland. Newell & Co. , 1887), pp. 530- 535. 198 education in England with BishOp William Wilberforce, James A. Fronds, and Thomas Babington Maccaulay, his essays and addresses published while a missionary in Africa, and the character of his ministry as rector of St. Luke's Episcopal Church in Washington.32 The Academy had five stated purposes: 1) The promotion of literature, science, and art. 2) The culture of a form of intellectual taste. 3) The fostering of higher education. 4) The publication of scholarly work. 5) The defense of the Negro against vicious assaults. The Academy published occasional papers in defense of Blacks 33 A and held regular meetings in Washington until the mid-1920's. typical product was the first paper, Kelly Miller's critique of Fred- erick L. Hoffman's, Race Traits and Tendencies of the American Negro, a book published under the auspices of the American Economic Associa- tion in 1896 which held that genetic inferiority of Blacks was respon- sible for Black social disorganization and concluded that the Black 325ee w. E. B. DuBois, "Of‘Alexander Crummell," in his Souls of Black Folk (Chicago: A. C. McClurg & C05,;1903), pp. 215-227. 33Winston, "Through the Back Door," Academic Racism and the Negro Scholar in Historical Perspective, Daedalus, Vol. 100, No. 3 199 mapulation would be overwhelmed by disease and death, eventually dis- appearing altogether as an element in the American population. The Academy published many Significant papers, among them were: 1) W. E. B. DuBois, "The Conservation of Races.“ 2) Alexander Crummell, “Civilization of the Primal Need of the Race." 3) Charles C. Cook, “A Comparative Study of Negro Problems." 4) William S. Scarborough, “The Educated Negro and His Mission." 5) Archibald H. Grimke, “The Ballotless Victim of One-Party Government." During this same era in which the American Negro Academy was active, there emerged the first generation of Black Ph.D.‘s, some of whom have made major contributions to American scholarship. For rather obvious reasons, the number was small. Between 1876 and 1914 only fourteen Blacks earned the Ph.D. Of this small group, two, W. E. B. DuBois and Carter G. Woodson, stand out as the most productive re- searchers and organizers of efforts to counter anti-Black scholar- ship.34 our 34For a full discussion of the educational background of these and other scholars see, Harry W. Greene, Holders of Doctorates among American Negroes (Boston: Meador Publishing Company, 1946. 200 W. E. B. DuBois was in many respects the most outstanding pioneer Black scholar in the United States, but a historian like George Washington Williams (History of the Negro Race in America, 2 volumes, 1882), although not as thoroughly or broadly trained, would also deserve the title "pioneer." After graduation from Fisk Univer- sity (A.B. 1888), DuBois studied at Harvard (A.B. 1890, A.M. 1891, Ph.D. 1895) under Albert Bushnell Hart, Justin Winsor, William James, 'Josiah Royce, George Santayana, and F. W. Taussig and at the Univer- sity of Berlin (1892-1894) under Gustav Schmoller, Adolph Wagner, and Heinrich von Treitschke;35 He achieved a solid reputation in both history and the new discipline of sociology. In 1896, his doctoral dissertation, The Suppression of the African Slave Trade to the United States of America, 1638-1870, was published as volume one of the Har- vard Historical Studies. The most important work of DuBois' early years as far as scholarship is concerned, however, was his study of Blacks in Philadelphia, which he worked on from August 1, 1896 to Jan- uary 1, 1898. He was convinced that social reform would reSult from social science research. "The Negro Problem," he said, "was in my mind a matter of systematic investigation and intelligent understanding. The world was thinking wrong about race, becauSe it did not know. 35See Forest Holman, W. E. B. DuBois: The Intellectual as Master Propagandist, unpublished M. A. thesis, Michigan State University, 1971, pp. 11- 13. 201 The ultimate evil was stupidity. The cure for it was knowledge based . . . . . . 36 on sc1entific investigation." DuBois' Philadelphia research was published as The Philadelphia Negro: A Social Study by the University of Pennsylvania in 1899. It was the first systematic study of a racial group in an American city, and in the opinion of later sociologists, a model of the kind of social research method many years later became standard in American universi- ties.37 Beyond its intrinsic value as a classic work of social re- search, The Philadelphia Negro represented a dedication to the concept of disinterested scholarship that was rare in those years, particularly when the subject involved race or class.38 While engaged in his Philadelphia research, DuBois presented an ambitious plan of systematic study of the Black people throughout the United States to the'forty-second meeting of the American Academy of Political and Social Sciences in Philadelphia, November 19, 1897. 361bid.. pp. 16-29. 37For a contemporary scholar's appraisal of The Philadelphia Negro, see E. Digby Baltzell's analytical introduction to the 1968 Schocken Books reprint. E. Franklin Frazier, whose own work The Negro Family in Chicago is very highly regarded, said of The Philadelphia Negro that “Nothing better has ever been done in the United States on a Negro community." See E. Franklin Frazier, "The Role of the Social Scientist in the Negro College," in Robert E. Martin, ed., The Civil War in Perspective: Papers contributed to the Twenty-Fourth Annual Conference of the Division of the Social Sciences, Howard University, 1961. PP. 9-18. ‘ 38Holman, "W. E. B. DuBois: The Intellectual as Master Propa- gandist," pp. 20-26. 202 At the center of his plan of higher Black education, he said: and yet all candid people know there does not exist today in the center of Negro population a single first- class, fully equipped institution devoted to the higher education of Negroes, not more than three Negro insti- tutions in all the South deserve the name of "college" at all, and yet what is a Negro college but a vast col- lege settlement for the study of a particular set of peculiarly baffling problems? What more effective or suitable agency could be found in which to focus the scientific efforts of the great universities of the North and East, than an institution situated in the very heart of these social problems, and made the cen- ter of careful historical and statistical research? Without doubt the first effective step toward the solv- ing of the Negro question will be the endowment of the_ Negro college which is not merely a teaching body, but a center of sociological research, in close connection and cooperation with Harvard, Columbia, Johns Hopkins, and the University of Pennsylvania.39 Some may now smile knowingly at the almost pathetic hopefulness of the young DuBois that White scholars would cooperate with such an enterprise. His study of the Philadelphia Negro was so thorough that it has withstood the criticism of the last seventy years. Notwith- standing its effects, it was as complete a study as could have been undertaken at that time. (It revealed the Negro group not as an inert, 'sick body of criminals but as the product of a long historic develop- ment.40 Despite the resounding silence in response to his.proposal, 39W. E. B. DuBois, Dusk at Dawn: An Essay Toward an Autobiog- raphy of a Race Concept (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1940)! p- 38. 40Elliott M. Rudwick, v. E. B. DuBois, A Study in Minority Group Leadership (Philadelphia: Univ. of Pennsylvania Press, 1960), p. 36. 203. DuBois began what he later termed as his "real life's work," at Atlanta, University where he was professor of history and sociology from 1896 to 1910. There he attempted to carry out his plan without the benefit or assistance of “the great Northern and Eastern universities. .One of his first observations upon reaching Atlanta University was that slav- ery had made large numbers of Black people careless and dependent and that the poorer Negroes were taught during the reconstruction period that crooked politics represented a necessary source of income.41 The main significance of DuBois' work at Atlanta University, during the years 1897 to 1910, was the development of a program of study on the problems affecting Black Americans designed to stretch 42 This program sprang from a plan con- over the span of a century. ceived by George Bradford of Boston, one of the trustees, to establish for Atlanta University a field of specialization comparable to the work Hampton and Tuskegee Institutes were doing in agriculture. Each year he convened a conference to discuss cooperative research studies of problems related to Blacks. The studies were organized in ten-year 41w. E. B. DuBois, Black Reconstruction in America: 1860-1880 (New York:- The World'Publishing Co., 1968), p. 121. Also see. W. E. B. DuBois, "The Spawn of Slavery," Missionary Review of the World. XXIV (October, 1901), 737. 42W. E. B. DuBois, “My Evolving Program for Negro Freedom," in Rayford W. Logan (ed.), What the Negro Wants (Chapel Hill: Univ. of North Carolina Press, 1944), p. 43. See DuBois, "The Spawn of Slavery.‘ Missionarpreview of the World, XXIV (October, 1901), 737. 204 cycles, so that there would be a systematic followup of changes in the social and economic status of rural as well as urban Blacks.43 DuBois edited the Atlanta University Studies alone from 1897 to 1910, when he was assigned by Augustus Granville Dill. A listing of the ten-year cycle is as follows: 1) l896--Morta1ity among Negroes 2) 1897--Social and Physical Conditions of Negroes in the Cities 3) 1898--Some Efforts of Negroes for Social Betterment 4) 1899--The Negro in Business 5) l900--The College Bred Negro 6) 1901--The Negro Common School 7) l902--The Negro Artisan 8) l903--The Negro Church 9) l904—-Notes on Negro Crime 10) 1905--A Select Bibliography of the American Negro.44 Two things Should be noted. First, even after the Atlanta .University Studies received well-deserved praise from some segments of the American academic community, neither financial assistance ade- quate to the task. nor cooperation were forthcoming from the founda- tions or the large universities. Second, despite the low level of 43DuBois, "My Evolving Plan for Negro Freedom," p. 46. 44Ioio., p. 65. 205 support, the Atlanta studies under DuBois' direction were careful re- search efforts, the first of their kind in any American university and obviously superior to the work supported at the time by White universi- ties. Apart from the Annual Yearbook of The Journal of Negro Educa- tigg, beginning in 1932, nothing comparable has been attempted Since, an indictment of Black as well as White institutions. Moreover, pro- longed residence in the South during the reign of terror that accom— panied the movement to disenfranchise and segregate Blacks eroded DuBois' faith in the efficacy of social research as a means of achiev- ing social reform. His contributions to scholarship at Atlanta are a monument to social science research. In 1910, DuBois, with some reluctance, abandoned his profes- sorial career at Atlanta to become director of publicity of the NAACP and editor of its journal, The Crisis: A Record of the Darker Races, which he made into the most influential publication among Blacks, and the clearest, most uncompromising condemnation of American racism and Western imperialism for the twenty-two years of his editorship. "My career as a scientist," he said later, "was to be swallowed up in my role as master of propaganda."45 45W. E. B. DuBois, Dusk of Dawn: An Essay Toward an Autobiog- raphy of a Race Concept (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1940), p. 94. Also see, DuBois, Darkwater: Voices from Within the ngl_(New York: Harcourt, Brace and Howe, 1920), p. 21. 206 Although DuBois returned to Atlanta University as professor of sociology, 1933-1944, after his break with the NAACP, the turbulent years of bitter political and social struggle presented a return to the conventions of his earlier "scientific" approach to scholarship. The historical works written by DuBois during this period, Black Re- construction (1935) and Black Folk: Then and Now (1939), for example, were marked by advocacy and understandably impulse to "set the record straight." Keenly aware of the problem of tendentious writing, DuBois appended a chapter to his Black Reconstruction called "The Propaganda of History," which is not only a brilliant apologia, but also an in- valuable source for understanding the preoccupation with race of the generation of Black scholars that followed in his footsteps. Demon- strating that White scholarship, when it regarded Black men, became deaf, dumb and blind," DuBois concluded that "in propaganda against the Negro since emancipation in this land, we face one of the most stupendous efforts the world ever saw to discredit human beings, an effort involving universities, history, science, social life, and re- iigion."46 DuBois' popularization of the idea of the Talented Tenth and the encouragement he gave in the pages of The Crisis to younger Negroes 46Winston, "Through the Back Door: Academic Racism and the Negro Scholar in Historical Perspective," p. 692; DuBois, Black Recon- struction (New York: Harcourt, Brace_and Company, 1935), pp. 726-727. 207 achieving intellectual distinction may have had a greater impact on American scholarship than his own careful research efforts of the period 1896-1910. His early books were probably not read widely by contemporary white scholars--I have found little evidence of it in their writings-~but his inspiration of younger Blacks to undertake careers of scholarship despite awesome handicaps bore fruit in the lean years between World Wars I and II. f A near contemporary of DuBois, Carter G. Woodson (1875-1950) should be mentioned also as a major force in stimulating research among Blacks, particularly historical studies. Educated at Berea Col- lege (before the State of Kentucky made it illegal in 1906 for even a 7 the University of private college to have a biracial student body),4 Chicago, and Harvard (PhLD., 1912), Woodson's career was a torturous andfiat times eccentric amalgam of scholarship and advocacy. He was at Howard University for only one year, 1919, as Dean of the School of Liberal Arts and head of the graduate faculty. After a dispute with the White president, J. Stanley Durkee, he withdrew from university teaching and spent the remaining thirty years in a lonely crusade to rescue the record of the Negro's past from oblivion. His own writings are rather sharply divided into scholarly efforts and energetic 47See Berea College_v. Kentucky, 211 U.S. 26 (1908), in which the United States Supreme Court upheld Berea College v. Commonwealth, 123 Ky. App. Ct. 209 S.W. 623 (1906). Also see, Horace Mann Bond, The Education of the Negro in the American Social Order (New York: Prentice-Hall, 1934). ‘ 208 popularizations of Negro history for school children and general readers. Examples of the former are his superb Education of the Negro Prior to 1861 (1915), A Century of Negro Migration (1918), The History of the NeLro Church (1921), and Free Negro Heads of Families in the United States, which he edited in 1925. Quite dif- ferent in method and quality were the popular The Negro in Our His- Q‘y (1922) and Negro Makers of History (1928). 1 As Woodson grew older and more radically defiant, his popular- ‘i zation increasingly fell heir to many of the pitfalls of that genre ()1? writing. As far as scholarship is concerned, perhaps his develop- ITleant of the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History, founded in Chicago in 1915, and of the Journal of Negro History, ‘Fiaunded in 1916, was more Significant than his individual contribu- ‘trions as a historian. Woodson announced in the first issue of the sljgurnal of Negro History the path it would take: Excepting what can be learned from current controversial literature, which either portrays the Negro as a perse- cuted saint or brands him as a leper of society, the people of this age are getting no information to Show what the Negro has thought, and felt, and done . . . The aim of the Association (for the Study of Negro Life and History) is to raise the funds to employ several investigators to collect all historical and sociological material bearing on the Negro, before it is lost to the World . . . . Our purpose then is not to drift into the discussion of the Negro problem. We shall aim to publish facts, believing that facts set forth will speak for themselves. 209 Almost singlehandedly, Woodson made the Journal of Negro His- tory into one of the respected American historical journals, a remark- ‘aatale achievement by any standard. Unfortunately, within a few years (31’ his death it began a steady and tragic decline.48 Between the years 1920 and 1945, there emerged a more broadly cli fferentiated group of Black scholars, although the total number was Still small.49 Some sense of the numbers involved iS suggested by the fact that between 1930 and 1943 a total of 317 Blacks had earned the F’f1.D. By 1946, universities awarding the largest number were Chicago (40), Columbia (35), University of Pennsylvania (28), Harvard (25), (Icarnell (25), Ohio State (22), and Michigan (20). By 1943, 40 percent (31’ the Ph.D.‘s held by Blacks were in the social sciences and of those, 5523 percent were in the fields of history and sociology. This increase VVEIS related to the social differentiation of the Black population, more SSIDecifically, the steady growth of the Black urban middle-class who Vvtere capable to sustain the investments of time and money required for graduate study. \ 48Winston, "Through the Back Door: Academic Racism and the Fiegro Scholar in Historical Perspective," p. 693. For a thorough ciescription of the work of Black scholarly historians see, Ernest |