by Lee Smith
The Reverend Cincinnatus Snow
Headmaster, Gatewood Academy
GATEWOOD ACADEMY FACULTY
Under the Direction of Mrs. Mariah Rutherford Snow,
Headmistress and Director of Curriculum
Miss Agnes Rutherford—Grammar and Composition
Miss Olive Reid—English Studies and Composition
Miss Lovinia Newberry—Art
Miss Bessie Barwick—History
Miss Laura Vest—Languages and Singing
Mrs. Frances Tuttle—Natural Studies, Deportment
Professor Jacques Bienvenu—Music
Professor Clyde Fogle—Mathematics
Mrs. Mariah Snow—Elocution, Bible Studies, Domestic Arts
The Reverend Cincinnatus Snow—Advanced Bible Studies and Philosophy
THE PROGRAM OF INSTRUCTION
Gatewood Academy
(Shall vary in accordance with age and need of students)
Elementary subjects to include:
Reading
Spelling and Grammar
Composition
Geography
History
Mathematics
Bible Study
Natural Sciences
Advanced Studies to include:
Composition and Literature
Algebra and Geometry
Ancient or Modern Languages
Tuition in Piano, Guitar, or Melodian
Tuition in Vocal Music
Tuition in Pencil Drawing, Crayon Drawing, or Watercolor Painting
Advanced Bible Studies
Evidences of Christianity
Intellectual and Moral Philosophy
Compulsory participation in Gymnasium, Elocution, Deportment, and
the Domestic Arts
Exquisite neatness, decorum, and silence shall be required of all students during each school day.
DAILY SCHEDULE
The Gatewood Academy
6:30 A.M. Rising bell. Dressing and tidying rooms.
7:30 A.M. Breakfast bell. Breakfast followed by morning prayers, led by Mrs. Snow
20-minute period of exercise, outdoors whenever possible
9:00 A.M. School opens. Opening prayers and announcements
9:00 A.M.– 12:00 P.M. Classes and study times
12:00 P.M. Dinnertime
1:00 – 3:00 P.M. Classes and study times
3:00 P.M. Roll call. “Perfect” or “imperfect” behavior noted
3:00 – 4:00 P.M. Study hour, sewing, or music practice times
4:00–5:00 P.M. Exercising and dressing
6:30 P.M. Supper
8:00 – 9:00 P.M. Gymnasium on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday
WEDNESDAY EVENING: Prayer meeting
FRIDAY EVENING: Parlor games and music
Occasional visiting lecturers upon worthy topics, when available
SATURDAY SCHEDULE
The Gatewood Academy
7:00 A.M. Breakfast bell.
8:00 A.M. Breakfast, followed by morning prayers, led by Mrs. Snow
9:00 A.M. Exercise time
9:30 A.M. Study hour
10:30 A.M. ”Pie Letter” writing hour, at conclusion of which letters must be presented for mailing in order to have dessert at tomorrow’s Sunday dinner
12:00 P.M. Dinner followed by personal time Shampoos
6:30 P.M. Supper
8:00 P.M. Evening preparation for Sabbath including Bible reading, Bible lessons, and hymn singing
SUNDAY SCHEDULE
The Gatewood Academy
8:00 A.M. Breakfast bell
8:30 A.M. Breakfast and morning prayers
10:00 A.M. Dress review
10:15 A.M. Procession to church services, Hopewell
11 A.M. Church services
1:00 P.M. Sunday dinner (with dessert)
Afternoon time for reflection and reading of Bible or appropriate Sunday school books (Family and family friends permitted to visit.)
6:30 P.M. Cold supper
7:15 P.M. Procession to evening church services, Hopewell
ROLL OF BOARDING STUDENT, 1873
Gatewood Academy
Abigail Baird
Lynchburg, Virginia
Emily Lunsford Berry
Greensboro, North Carolina
Constance Adeline Brown
Hillsborough, North Carolina
Ida Louise Brown
Hillsborough, North Carolina
Margaret Clark
Oxford, North Carolina
Josie Covington
Araby Farm, Bertie County, North Carolina
Daisy Mae Dupree
Beaulieu Plantation, Warrenton, North Carolina
Lily Coit Dupree
Beaulieu Plantation, Warrenton, North Carolina
Ruth Ann Fuller
Danville, Virginia
Lucy Lenoir
Yanceyville, North Carolina
Courtney Leigh Lutz
Chinquapin Plantation, Reidsville, North Carolina
Emma Belle Page
Goldsboro, North Carolina
Jemima Jane “Mime” Peeler
Roanoke, Virginia
Molly Margaret Petree
Agate Hill, North Carolina
Mayme Snead Ragsdale
Silk Hope, North Carolina
Susannah Rankin
Statesboro, North Carolina
Hattie Cane Stokes
Raleigh, North Carolina
Phoebe Rowena Taylor
Salisbury, North Carolina
Eliza Valiant
Charleston, South Carolina
Georgia Strudwick Vance
Durham, North Carolina
Fern Whittaker
Raleigh, North Carolina
• • •
Selections from the Journal of
MARIAH RUTHERFORD SNOW
Headmistress, Gatewood Academy
July 1, 1873
Today I commence this journal with:
1. The Desire to cleanse & purify my own black soul, so oft beset by demons & thoughts too Dark to tell.
2. The Hope of greater Resignation to my lot, for what woman was ever more fortunate in being given such an opportunity to be of service? I struggle to be worthy of my Role.
3. The Intention of Living so that Death may never pay an unexpected Call, as I have awful fears of Death, deriving I know not whence, yet tormenting me to distraction though all the while I must put on a cheerful face for the sake of my children, my students, & for Dr. Snow who requires it, & rightly so.
4. The Determination to curb my Temper, Impatience, & Nervousness. Ah, why was I not blessed with a sunny disposition, like my sister Agnes? Why must I worry a thing to death?
FOR NO ONE’S EYES
July 8, 1873
And yet no sooner am I under way with this program than I am sorely tested, presented with a scholar so unlikely as to try me in every respect, she having come to the Academy late & under most peculiar Circumstances. I cannot help but blame Dr. Snow for this, as it is he who arranged her admission entirely, telling me virtually NOTHING about it in advance save that Agnes should travel along with the girl’s guardian to fetch her. “Who is this girl?” I asked. “Who is this guardian?” but to no avail. Dr. Snow was writing a sermon as usual, & could not be disturbed. Now it appears that Simon Black, the aforementioned Guardian, served as one of the Iron Scouts in Wade Hampton’s army; hence he can do no wrong in the eyes of Dr. Snow, who apparently made his acquaintance during the War. Never mind that I ran this entire Academy perfectly well during Dr. Snow’s absence, with the school overflowing & showing a profit at the bank. But now—NOW, how dare he call me the Headmistress yet refuse to allow me the right of participation in even such a basic decision as this one? Truly I am his Servant, NOT his Partner, whether he owns it or not. Basically Dr. Snow does nothing but read, while I work my fingers to the bone, yet have Nothing to say on any topic, him determining all according to his whim though he understands nothing,
I repeat NOTHING about the administration of this Academy or anything else.
Good Lord, forgive me. Forgive me. Help me gain greater Understanding & Acceptance, oh Lord. Help me keep these thoughts to myself, & to this Journal.
But as for the girl:
I could smell her hair the minute Agnes brought her before me. I must say I have never seen a more unkempt specimen within the walls of this Academy. I attempted to converse with her but she would not speak, hanging her bedraggled curly head all the while, rubbing her dirty bare feet on our nice carpet. She would not even look at me.
What Manner of child can this be? I was wondering when in came Dr. Snow with the man he introduced as Simon Black, Molly Petree’s Guardian & Benefactor. Immediately my attention was riveted by this unusual individual, dressed all in black, yet with white beard & mustaches. He swept his hat off his head & bowed low to the floor, startling me. Indeed, I was entirely unnerved by these exaggerated manners. It was almost like a performance; I suspect he is not a true gentleman.
“Ah!” he said, catching me off my guard. Then “Mrs. Snow,” as if he had been searching for me all my life. He looked straight into my eyes, on a level with his own, as I am a Tall Woman. “I sense already that you will be just the one to take Molly Petree in hand. With the least bit of encouragement and structure, I feel that she will prosper, for she is a very bright girl.”
I looked askance at that tangle of hair & those bare scuffed feet. “Well, we shall see,” I heard myself saying, though I had intended to reject her out of hand by suggesting, albeit delicately, that her obvious lack of Social Skills might make her uncomfortable at this Academy.
As Mr. Black smiled, which almost seemed to pain him, I became conscious of Dr. Snow hopping about below us as if he were a dog leaping up for a bone. He can be so annoying at times. He yapped about “business” & “terms.” I felt myself flushing, a problem I have had of late; it is very embarrassing.
“Take her on, then, Agnes,” I said. “Tell Delia to run a bath.”
But Agnes colored up herself, thrusting a fat envelope into my hands. “Here is my report, Sister,” she flung back over her shoulder as she dragged Molly Petree from the room. “You had better read it.”
“Wait!” Simon Black crossed the room in an instant, blocking the door. “Molly,” he said in a low, urgent voice. “Listen to me. You are safe here, & I believe you will prosper. Mrs. Snow will keep me informed as to your needs & your progress. She will know how to contact me at all times. Now I urge you to work hard, & make the most of your Opportunities. Look at me, Molly”—which she would not do, Ungrateful Girl! Mr. Black touched her chin, tilting it up. There was something shocking in this gesture. From my angle of vision, I could not see her face, only his, which wore an expression of strange intensity. “Ah yes,” he said, as if to someone not there, not in the room with us at all, “How she favors Alice.” I do not believe he meant to speak these words, which I found both incomprehensible & bizarre. “You will be fine, Molly,” he said to the girl. “Now you will be just fine.”
But Molly jerked her head away from his hand & bolted through the door, poor Agnes at her heels.
I sat down to read the “report” while Simon Black & Dr. Snow retired to his little outdoor study to “talk Business.” But you had better believe I was there in no time, knocking on the door!
There they sat drinking Whisky. I might have known. Simon Black jumped up at my entrance.
“It will not do,” I said straight out. “No sir, it will not do. I refuse to have this girl come here, she will sully the other girls. Poor Sister Agnes may be too dim-witted & naïve to understand what she witnessed at Agate Hill, but I understand it all too well. Whatever her degree of complicity may have been, it is clear that Molly Petree has undergone experiences of a Compromising Nature. We do not run a home for Wayward Girls, sir.”
“But what about damaged girls? I was led to believe that this is a Christian establishment of charity, of love . . . Am I mistaken then?” Simon Black asked respectfully in his deep voice.
Of course I was taken Aback. “Yes, but—” I began.
Then Dr. Snow stood up with that red face I know all too well. “This will be entirely enough, Mariah,” he said. “Miss Petree has been admitted to Gatewood Academy today, & she must be outfitted immediately. You & Agnes will see to this. Mr. Black wishes that no outward distinction can possibly be made between Molly Petree & the others. Have I made myself clear?”
I thought of the shoes & hats to buy, the bolster, the pillows, the trunk— the sheets & linens to make, not to mention her clothes! The gymnasium outfit would have to be fitted & made from scratch, for instance, as we have no more made up & available at this time. I sent the last one by post to a girl from Wilmington yesterday. “It is impossible,” I said firmly. “The girls will arrive in only four weeks. There is no time. And there is nowhere to put her, in any case.”
Simon Black bowed over my hand which he took in both of his. “You will find a way. I trust you implicitly, Mrs. Snow,” he said. I found him quite Presumptuous.
I looked at Dr. Snow, who narrowed his eyes at me with an Expression I recognized.
“You had better get busy, Mariah,” he said. Then to Simon Black, “Do you remember Kemp? from Spartanburg? A very good man—”
So it is done! And I am left with a wayward, sullen girl on my hands, a girl who could be the ruination of all my hard work in establishing this Academy. I shall take her, then, but I shall keep an eye on her, for well I know: one Bad Apple can spoil the entire Barrel.
Mariah Rutherford Snow
Headmistress, Gatewood Academy
Hopewell, Virginia
FOR NO ONE’S EYES
July 18, 1873
Dr. Snow will not discuss his foolhardy decision with me at all, closeting himself in his little house then riding off to preach at country churches hither and yon. Meanwhile Agnes & I struggle to deal with our recalcitrant student who does nothing but sigh & stare blankly into space, answering all attempts at conversation in monosyllables. She shows no interest in anything except our books; yesterday, she grabbed up a collection of Fairy Tales from the parlor table & hid it in the folds of her skirt (actually Agnes’s skirt, I should add.)
“You do not need to do that,” I told her, retrieving the book & handing it back to her properly. “We are happy for you to borrow this book, or any book we have here at Gatewood Academy.”
She clutched the book to her chest & stared at me.
“You may say, ‘Thank you, Mrs. Snow,’ “ I told her.
“Thank you, Mrs. Snow,” she whispered, eyes filled with Anger & Ingratitude. Though I have prayed without ceasing for Forbearance in this matter, I cannot, I simply cannot find it in my heart to be sorry for her.
I shall speak to Dr. Snow promptly upon his return.
Mariah Rutherford Snow
Headmistress, Gatewood Academy
Hopewell, Virginia
FOR NO ONE’S EYES
July 20, 1873
My attempt having ended in terrible Argument, I excused myself from the breakfast table & went out to water the plants on the porch. Not five minutes had passed before I sensed the silent presence of Dr. Snow behind me. I continued my work, every nerve on edge. “What is it?” I finally whirled about to ask, whereupon he told me frankly that Simon Black is paying so much money to Gatewood Academy that we shall be able to meet our note after all, plus send our own boys off to their respective Boarding Schools as planned, AND have adequate funds left over for repairs to the Academy!
“So you see we have no Choice,” he said, following me along the row of pots. “Simon Black has made a substantial investment in this Academy.”
“But Dr. Snow, that is Bribery!” I said, though I dared not turn to see his face.
“On the contrary, Mariah, it is Business. Do I make myself clear?” He gripped my elbow so tightly that I cried out in pain, dropping my bucket which rolled off the porch spilling water. “Furthermore,
I consider it our Christian duty to save this girl. And frankly I am surprised that you, of all people, do not see it this way, Mariah, given your own circumstances.” (He WOULD have to bring this up, of course!) “Nothing happens without God’s Knowledge; remember that, Mariah. Molly Petree has been sent to us for a reason. The Lord works in mysterious ways, & it is not up to us to question Him. I know you will do your best with her.”
“Dr. Snow,” I said, “you are hurting my arm.”
But he did not release it, pulling me toward him & into the house where to my surprise he exercised his Conjugal Rights upon the hall bench in broad daylight. He seems to be quite worked up, in general, by all that has transpired. I occupied myself by reciting the beginning of Paradise Lost all the while, finishing about the same time he did.
Today I took my cold bath a bit earlier than usual.
Of course Dr. Snow is right, & I am wrong, & ungrateful & evil & low-minded, imagining only the worst for reasons he understands all too well. Yet I shall endeavor to rise above myself, & be worthy of Simon Black’s trust, & live up to Dr. Snow’s opinion of my capabilities, & understand that in all matters of Business, he knows best. (Yet WHY does he know best? Oh stop it, Mariah.) Better I should remember the words of John Milton:
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
Yet I confess I do not like her, this girl, this Molly Petree. I can not like her, pure & simple, though she looks presentable enough now, bathed & clothed, albeit Sullen & Quiet as ever. There is something about her I do not trust, some dormant spirit I sense within her—though she looks so meek & mild, I have the distinct feeling that she could do anything. Anything.
And there is something else I must confess as well. When I have closed my eyes to Pray these past two nights, I have seen—unaccountably—His face. I mean Mr. Simon Black’s face: that heavy brow, those steady dark eyes looking into mine when he said, “I trust you implicitly, Mrs. Snow.” Oh why is this new Trial visited upon me? And who is this Mrs. Snow? I sometimes ask myself. And who are all these Children, Mrs. Snow’s Children? Eight of them! & another on the way. I am locked in a golden chest, I am bound round & round by a silken rope. Simon Black should not trust me. Nobody should trust me! For I am filled with the most base & contradictory impulses, no matter how I struggle to be worthy of God’s love, & do His bidding in this world, & live up to my Responsibilities.
