All through this decade his brain had been active with schemes of improvements. In the early seventies, the Baptists of Virginia were freshly aroused on the subject of education, and made large plans for strengthening Richmond College. Taking cue from this new denominational interest, the Trustees of Hollins Institute determined to go before the public and ask for a contribution of $100,000. A financial agent went among the people with argument and appeal. The result was disappointing and the agent was withdrawn. The failure was depressing, but by no means unnerving. From the beginning of the "Seminary" in 1842, the intermittent calls on public benevolence had never met with notable response. Nor is this fact any real ground for reproach. The mood of the general public had never been toned and cultivated in the interests of liberal education. From first to last the benevolent gifts to Hollins amounted to but $35,000, exactly half of which had come from Mrs. Ann Hollins and her husband. In the light of the recent failure Mr. Cocke saw that there was no further ground of hope from this source of supply. The school's expanding reputation and growing patronage gratified him exceedingly, but the financial situation excited disquieting apprehensions. The Trustees had no funds in the treasury; the Institution was making no money, and their debt was growing every year. The mind of the President was filled with foreboding and grave anxiety.
Let it now be said that not one dollar had ever been added to the debt by any form of extravagance. No head of an Institution ever practiced a more rigid economy in projecting improvements. Not even a fancy catalogue was ever sent out from Hollins. His severe frugality, and the constantly demanded investment of his personal means in improvements, actually limited the reasonable privileges and gratifications of his family. Never did a family bear restrictions more cheerfully and uncomplainingly. It was not in Mr. Cocke to rebel against the law of sacrifice, but once, in his annual report to the Trustees in 1879, he permitted himself to say: "It is a hard case, however, that a man should have all his means so wound up in an Institution, conducted for the public, that he cannot command enough money to give his family anything at all, except hard work and self-denial."
In 1846, by express contract with the Trustees, Mr. Cocke became Principal and Steward of the Seminary without stipulated salary. Neither he nor any one of his sons and daughters, who worked so loyally with him, ever received a salary from the Board. That initial agreement illustrates the unbargaining generosity of the man. He pressed on the attention of the Trustees the certainty of continuous demand for enlarged facilities. To provide for this, it was agreed that the revenue from the boarding department should go to the Trustees, who would devote it to that purpose. How ridiculously small that revenue was likely to be, may be gathered from the fact that a student was boarded at the rate of $5.00 a month! Through all the subsequent years this principle of benevolent rates had never been abandoned. The figures were necessarily increased, but only with the view of keeping out of debt. Now what possible promise was there in this arrangement for increasing facilities? Absolutely none. So the long issue of events proved. By the same agreement, Mr. Cocke was to pay his teachers' salaries and maintain himself and family out of the tuition funds. What remained in the treasury after the teachers were paid was his. Out of that residue, it soon became evident, must come much of the means for repairs and improvements. There was no other source from which to draw. Improvements were made, and self-denial paid the bills.
Now, while this involved inconveniences, it did not, of course, mean the making of gifts to the Trustees. In just business fashion, they recorded each outlay of this kind as a loan to themselves. As a consequence they went steadily in debt to Mr. Cocke, until by 1864 they owed him $7,785. This included the $1,500 which he lent to them in 1846. This curious financial arrangement continued, unavoidable and regretted by all concerned. In 1868, the debt of the Trustees ran up to $17,473, and in 1876 it reached the sum of $22,094. Why had not these claims been settled? We have seen the source of the Trustees' revenue; how could they pay? The $35,000 raised by public gift had been given to the Trustees, who invested every cent of it in new buildings and accommodations. Not a dollar of it ever touched the hand of Mr. Cocke. On the contrary, as noted above, the growing plant had commandeered much of his own slow, hard earnings. Either this undesirable order of things had to go on, or Mr. Cocke had to abandon his dear ambition. But the time had come for better adjustments. He felt that the multiplying years required that he think of the interests of his family. With these views and wishes, the Trustees were in their usual cordial sympathy. The Institution was their property. They were in debt to Mr. Cocke in a large and yearly increasing sum. They had no possible way of liquidating that debt. What could they do? What ought they to have done? They solved the question by offering to give Mr. Cocke a deed to their Institution in satisfaction of their debt. The proposition was declined. He did not want to own the College. Such had never been his aim. He saw that the move would be a relief to the Trustees, but a disadvantage to the school. He deprecated the idea of the College going into private ownership. The associated wisdom and responsibility of a good Board of Trustees he regarded as one of its best assets. Moreover, what could such a deal effect in the way of relieving his financial embarrassments? He could not see, and so the troublesome question was left unsolved. The school was prosperous, his heart was serenely grateful; and this personal matter could wait.
CHAPTER V
EXPANSION AND ACHIEVEMENT
1880-1901
The projection, building, and safe establishment of Cornell University, in the State of New York, was essentially the work of that remarkable man, Andrew D. White. In the face of many obstacles and antagonisms he founded it, named it in honor of its chief benefactor, was its first President and led its fortunes until he saw it take rank among the famous Institutions of the United States. Another famous man performed the same kind of service for his people in the South. The founder and builder of Hollins Institute was long a voice in the wilderness. You have seen the stern, invincible purpose of this man in the face of an apathetic public, painfully straitened finances, epidemics, and the desolations of war. Several times his enterprise trembled on the verge of ruin. But in him was that iron quality that never knew when it was beaten. Forty years of toil in the educational field sat lightly on him, thanks to the natural vigor of a well knit body and the resilient tone of a well endowed mind. We come now to the last lap of the journey, which most gratefully takes the form of a triumphal progress. In the good providence of God, the next twenty-one years were to be filled with expansion and achievement. His years multiplied, but there was no slowing down of energy and contriving strategy. Destiny put him benignantly into a life-long association with the young, and he could not grow old. To thousands of us still, no figure on the Hollins quadrangle ever stands out so statuesque as his large form, becomingly clad in a Prince Albert suit, and surmounted with a favorite tall beaver hat. As he walked in unconscious majesty, one could hear that resonant voice, issuing orders or bestowing courtly greetings. The grace and evenness of the old Virginia gentleman sat on him like a crown, making him ever accessible to student and friend. He was a worker, and he hated idleness as sin. Unrelentingly he demanded work. Never a student was allowed to escape that imperious law. For this his girls gave him honor. Well did they understand that Hollins was not for fashionable finish, or for money-squandering, but for downright honest study and true adornment of womanhood. He requested parents not to encourage extravagance in their daughters by putting in their hands undue sums of money to spend.