THE PAINS OF RETRENCHMENT.
We do not propose a treatment of this topic in the abstract, to tell of the internal pressure for retrenchment from the collapsed condition of our treasury, or of the outcries which accompany the red line made by the surgical knife. We simply lay before our readers the facts in regard to our latest efforts in this direction.
We have had a school for fourteen years at Athens, Alabama. Miss M. F. Wells has been the principal from its beginning, and has been one of our most faithful and most successful teachers and missionaries. Miss Underwood has been her assistant for two years, and Rev. Horace Taylor has been pastor of the vigorous and enterprising church which has grown up by the side of, and indeed out of, the school. Some 150 scholars have been in attendance at the school, and its work has been more and more satisfactory year by year.
We had a building there which was, however, in bad repair: its walls had been propped up these last months, and it was becoming really unsafe, so that it must be abandoned or replaced. But to erect a suitable and permanent building would cost $5,000, and we had no such sum to expend; and the question came to be, Shall we build, or close the school and transfer the teachers to some other field? Reluctantly this latter decision was made:—indeed, we did not make it; it was made for us. We could not build, and the decision was sent on to Athens.
On the first of July, Miss Wells wrote from a sick bed, of the shock which this decision gave to her, though it had been intimated beforehand. She said:
We thank you cordially for the delay in the announcement of your decision, for had it come in the midst of our closing exercises, students and teachers would have been unfitted for the work upon them.
Our examinations continuing through four days were largely attended throughout, a crowded house greeting us every day.
The general voice of the people was: “Examinations grow better all the time;” “This is the best we have ever had;” “I will send all my children the first day next year, and not keep them out for anything;” “Bless the Lord for this school;” “It makes me cry for joy when I see what it has done for our people;” “We are all going to help build a new house;” “Will start a brick-yard next week, if you say so, right in these grounds;” “All will help;” “Even the idle boys on the street will gladly lend a hand;” etc., etc.
On the whole, our examinations and closing exercises were more satisfactory to us this year than ever before. There has been a deeper earnestness in study, and a higher grade of scholarship has been reached.
On the day following, Miss Underwood wrote:
It is pitiful to witness the grief of the people. In the faces of young and old one seems to read, “A calamity has fallen upon us.” Some of them go silently about with bowed heads and spirits, “clothed in sackcloth and ashes.” Others say, “We will arise and build; surely the Lord will help those who help themselves.” The universal feeling is that the school must not close and Miss Wells must not go. Without consulting her, they have called a mass meeting for to-morrow night, to see what can be done towards the erection of a new building. You will be promptly notified of results.
On the 4th of July, Mr. Taylor, pastor of the church, wrote as follows:
That night, at a lecture at the Court House, I read a note from Miss Wells announcing your decision. The people were much pained. The open rejoicing of many of the white people hurt the colored people more than anything else. They asked me, “Can nothing be done to prevent this?” I told them I thought not, for the orders were positive. “If we build the school-house, can Miss Wells stay and the school go on?” I said I didn’t know about that, and asked them if they knew what they were talking about; that a school-house such as ought to be put up there would cost $5,000? They said, “We can do it, and we will do it.” So I telegraphed you, “If people put up school building, will school be maintained?” That night, Wednesday, was our preparatory lecture. The people decided to hold a meeting Thursday night, and notice was given at preparatory lecture; so last night the church was filled by an earnest, quiet audience. Colored men were elected chairman and secretary. A committee of five colored men was appointed to draft resolutions, of which the following is a copy as nearly as I can remember:
“Whereas the maintenance of Trinity School is necessary for the education of the colored people of North Alabama, therefore be it
“Resolved, 1st. That we hear with deep sorrow the decision of the American Missionary Association to discontinue the school, sell the property, and send the teachers to other points. 2. That we earnestly request the American Missionary Association to reconsider this decision, and permit Miss Wells to remain at the head of the school. 3. In order to enable the school to be kept up, we propose to put up a good substantial school building, and as an assurance of our purpose and ability to do this we forward the following subscription list.”
The resolutions were immediately and unanimously adopted. Two men then spoke with trembling voices and tears in their eyes, and in thirty minutes names were taken with pledges to the amount of $2,196. We then checked the movement, and explained that $5,000 was necessary, but that we had raised the $2,000 we wished to raise there. A unanimous vote authorized me to make the report of the meeting to the American Missionary Association, and that they wished the house and lot to be held forever for the education of the colored people of North Alabama; that if the American Missionary Association would permit them to buy the land at a reasonable price they would do it; or the American Missionary Association might hold the land and the people the house, neither to sell out without the consent of the other. An old blind man said, “An old blind horse ain’t good for much, but when you get him into the tread-mill he is as good as any other; so when you get to making brick I will turn the crank to draw the water.” We got another $100 subscription and immediately adjourned. This morning I have received another subscription of $12, making in all $2,308. I ought to have mentioned that a committee of seven was appointed to solicit subscriptions on the streets. If you say so, the school-house shall be completed January 1st, 1880. I earnestly request that the petition be granted.
At the last meeting of our Executive Committee these letters were read. All were deeply moved, and the response was hearty and unanimous, Let them arise and build, and the funds needed for the continuance of the school shall be appropriated and paid. We cannot stop such a work. We cannot refuse such a plea. Why, the educating power of this movement upon the colored people of that place, and its effect, perhaps, upon the white population as well, is worth ten times the money involved in both the building and the school. And yet we are told that the blacks are becoming indifferent to education.
And now, dear friend, you who are thinking how the Lord has not prospered you quite as much as he did a few years ago, when you have read this, will you not put back that $100, or that $1, you were going to take from your usual gift to us, that such work as this may go on? It is your retrenchment that compels ours.