With the fall of the Confederacy, Mr. Cocke had again to face a condition that seemed the mockery of his hopes. Everywhere were economic prostration, social disorganization, and pinching poverty. Shall Hollins keep up the fight? Will the sun of Austerlitz ever rise on her long and varying battles? What young Institution ever threaded its way through a wilderness so gloomy or by pits and precipices so dangerous? Hollins will go on, walking by faith, and its doors shall not be closed, even for the part of a session. That is the mind of the President. He and his faculty, though exhausted in means, will face the destitution and never give up the ship. The session of 1865-6 ran on with forty-five students. Rates had to be increased, and even with that, the college would have been compelled to close but for a timely loan from Colonel Tayloe to buy food. This noble friend and President of the Board of Trustees had been a comfort to Mr. Cocke from the beginning, and will continue so for thirty years more. Our great leader did not talk about his troubles, being always master of himself. Once he made this brief pathetic admission to his Trustees: "I am so burdened that I do not feel fit for my work." What can move us to tears like a strong man's grief? And there stands the ghastly figure of the unfinished Main Building, mocking his struggles and dreams. For five years now, pine boards have been nailed up to cover the windows, and not even a porch relieves the monotony of its ugliness. Two alternatives were before him: first, reduce the faculty, which is a most deplorable thing to do; second, go on as we are, but that is bankruptcy and ruin. Hear him: "I will go on; I will trust in God and the people." He insisted to his Trustees: "We must not descend to the character of a neighborhood school." Their sympathies were with him, but they felt unable to cope with the iron stringencies of the time. He did go on, never lowering a standard or abating the passionate cry for more room and better equipment. How he ever pulled through this slough of despond, he himself could not possibly tell. Of one thing he was in no doubt and it was this, that in the long night of anguish, there was a precious mystery of heavenly aid.
HOLLINS INSTITUTE
[Main Building Completed 1869. East Building Completed 1856]
One of the encouraging incidents of this season, was the fact that one of the finest young scholars in Virginia accepted a call to the Institute. When Professor Joseph A. Turner, in 1866, consented to become a member of the faculty, it meant that a finely accomplished man had confidence in the character and destiny of the College, and that certified confidence was a tonic to the President's soul. But Hollins is still in the depths. There is no bracing of firm rock under her feet. All the officials know that the whole property is in peril of a public sale. How did the School go on? You must find answer in the resourcefulness and adamantine will of one great man. Hollins did go on, and complimentary testimonials from leading scholars in the State began to be written and spoken. Mr. Cocke was cheered at the generous recognition and said: "We must lift our standards a little higher than ever before. Our school should be second to none in the State and we must reach out for more distant patrons." The tide begins to rise, and on the horizon there are gleaming hints of a better day. In 1868, Mr. Cocke secured a loan of $10,000, and by the end of 1869, that nightmare of the Main Building was transformed into a handsome and completed edifice. The passing of this melancholy incubus made a new epoch in his life. It was the cutting of chains from his feet, and the addition of wings wherewith to fly. The new structure greatly increased the accommodations, and now begins active propaganda in the South, acquainting the people with Hollins Institute. Newly risen, like a star above tempest and cloud, she will shed benignant light on the homes and daughters of the land. May she go on shining forever!
CHAPTER IV
THE CLEARING SKIES
1870-1880
The torturing issues of the past are now settled. Mr. Cocke will let them pass to practical oblivion while he presses on to larger realizations. Of course annoying problems will continue to dog his steps, but they will not wear the malignant aspect so familiar in the strenuous years. His ideal is a flying goal, and he will never see his loved college free from growing pains. The happiest decade of work that he has yet known is before him. He stands on its threshold with hope assured, and his face is lit with thanksgiving as he beholds the clouds receding, and the sunshine flooding all the sky. It is a time to grasp his hand and shower him with congratulations. He has now completed twenty-four years of toilsome labor beside the little sulphur spring. Into the holy enterprise he has grandly flung himself, his property and his family. Never had a man a more tactful and sympathetic co-worker than he found in his wife. Without one murmur of complaint she has shared all his burdens and cares. Her feminine quietness and grace have matched his masculine push and executive force. In him is a certain rugged virility which is delightfully supplemented by her charm of patient gentleness. With a noiseless and tireless efficiency, she has managed the domestic details, while he has handled the administrative affairs of the school. In the apportionment of praise, he would resent a bestowal that made her unequal to himself; nor would he fail to recognize the services of his children. Since the wedding bells rang, thirty years ago, nine have come into the home [Joseph J., Leila V. (Mrs. Joseph A. Turner), Sallie Lewis, Mary Susan (Mrs. C. W. Hayward), Rosa Pleasants (Mrs. W. R. L. Smith), Charles Henry, Matty L., Lucian H., and Bessie (Mrs. J. P. Barbee)]. Brought up in an atmosphere of service, all of them have, for longer or shorter periods, loyally served the institution.