ANNIVERSARY AT HAMPTON INSTITUTE, VIRGINIA.
In beauty, interest and enthusiasm Hampton anniversary days abate nothing as years go on. The seventeenth anniversary exercises were held on May 21, with a graduating class of forty-two, of whom five were Indians. Visitors were present from North and South, East and West, and such expressions as "The half was not told me!" and "Why didn't I bring my wife?" were frequent, as usual.
Of the morning examinations, one of the most interesting was a general exercise conducted by the chaplain, in review of the current news of the world, which is daily read and discussed with the students. Victor Hugo, French and English politics, the Afghan trouble, Russia and Nihilism, Irish Nationalists, France and China, England and Egypt, were touched in the questions, and the answers and general interest showed the value of this daily exercise. In the ancient history class, printed questions were shuffled and distributed among the students, and question and answer were spoken out promptly by each scholar, giving an attractive quickness and vivacity to the recitation. The class of little Indian geographers stood before a table on which was a miniature United States made of sand, with its Eastern elevations, its great central plains, and its high Western ranges. A thread of blue worsted, put in place by the young world-builders, simulated the Mississippi, while cities (in the guise of white buttons) sprang up with a rapidity unknown even in the great West. The practice-teaching class is always of especial interest and significance, as over ninety per cent of Hampton's students devote themselves to teaching as their life mission. A dozen little bright-eyed, brown-faced primaries from the "Butler" training school received a geography lesson from one of the senior girls, criticised by her class-mates. Its grand finale was a miniature volcanic eruption, creating a sensation among the Butler mites.
The industrial exhibits and the training shops, with their Negro and Indian apprentices, attracted interested attention, as usual.
The emotions of anniversary day culminated in the afternoon exercises, in which were several incidents of unusual interest. The pretty and graceful salutatorian, fair as most of her hearers, was introduced as a young representative of the family of faithful Mary Peake, who, just escaped from slavery herself, taught the first "contraband school" at Hampton. This introduction roused the war-memories of Rev. Dr. Strieby, who, greeting the young girl as she stepped on the platform, told the story of the first missionary sent down to Old Point by the American Missionary Association, his reception by the contrabands as an angel of deliverance, and his first school, opened Sept. 17, 1861, with Mary Peake as its teacher, till she gave up her life in the work for her people.
The pastor's class was represented by a Baptist minister from Hampton, who gave an account of the Old and New ministry, somewhat characteristic of both. This pastor's class has become an interesting feature of Hampton, with a mission of peace and good-will to both races and all sects and sections. Now in its second year, it numbers, as pupils, 17 colored pastors of Hampton and vicinity. Baptist and Methodist; and as teachers Rev. Mr. Frissell, chaplain, and Rev. Mr. Tolman, ex-chaplain of the school, Northern Congregationalist ministers, with Miss Alice Bacon, who thus worthily wears her venerated fathers mantle, and the Southern white ministers from Hampton, Episcopal, Baptist and Methodist, in unity of spirit that is verily "a good and a pleasant thing to see." The studies are the Bible and Bible history, pastoral theology and composition. In cultivating better understanding and kindly relations between these colored and white neighbors, and the relations of the school with both, as well as in helping meet the great need of an intelligent ministry, this pastor's class is doing important work. Some of its members board at the school, working their way in part like the other students, sometimes entering their classes. Some are helped to come by their congregations, who appreciate the opportunity.
A handsome gold medal, presented by Mr. W. J. Demorest, of New York City, was awarded to Harris Barrett, of the senior class, for excellence in the junior elementary studies, the three R's, geography, grammar and spelling, in which the whole class were examined for the prize without special review, only one falling below an average of 50 per cent. on all, and five averaging above 90—a better showing than some Northern college seniors could make, I fear.
As usual, some of the school's former graduates returned to tell the story of their labors, and nearly fifty were present on the invitation yearly renewed to all.
The valedictorian was the youngest of a family of one sister and four brothers, children of a minister, who have graduated at the school, the last two with the honor of the valedictory.
The Indian graduates were represented by two of their number, a young man of the Sac and Fox tribe, Indian Territory, who gave his own reasons for claiming and desiring citizenship for his people, which were: 1st, that the Indian also is a child of the Father; 2d, that he was once owner of the land; 3d, that without this protection and help he must perish; 4th, that with it he can become a useful member of the nation, a man among men. An Indian girl plead eloquently for the Indian woman, and protested against the use of "savage" as a synonym of Indian, since "there are also yellow savages, black savages and white savages." The representations of the past, present and future of Indian life will not soon be forgotten by those who saw them. The past's barbaric glories were typified by a tall young brave and Indian girl in the beautiful dress of the wilderness. They stood silent, like a vision of the ancient days, while their story was told. The present's pathos was represented by "Lo" the very "poor Indian" and squaw in shabby blankets, bewailing—as their Indian interpreter explained—the loss of lands and buffalo, asking where to go next—"white man everywhere"; the future's hope by a promising pair of Hampton students, able to speak for themselves, work for themselves and teach their people, with their white brethren's help, in the Christian's road. As the three groups stood in striking tableau—a visible embodiment of truth which I wish every white citizen of the United States could have seen and taken to heart—their comrades of the Indian school rose behind them, and started a Dakota hymn, recognized by the melody as "From Greenland's Icy Mountains," or, as interpreted to Indian understanding, "From the very distant cold land—from the hot land far away." As the plaintive strain died away, it was taken up in English in the richer chorus of their colored schoolmates, and the whole audience, rising, joined in the grand third verse, "Shall we whose souls are lighted," with effect not to pass from their hearts.