Radio Script #430

Little Talks on Common Things

October 11, 1959

As we now contemplate the overcrowded conditions in the Waterville High School, necessitating a two-platoon system of attendance, it is interesting to note what that school was like in 1862, the second year of the Civil War.

We did not then have a public high school in the modern sense, but a school which was only partly supported by public funds, most of its revenue coming from tuition fees paid by the parents. It was not until after 1870 that the State of Maine passed the public high school law, guaranteeing free attendance to pupils. That semi-private, semi-public high school in Waterville in 1862 had a total of two teachers: Principal Justin P. Moore and his assistant, Laura Emery. Moore’s report for the year showed that the total enrollment had been only 38 pupils, 27 girls and 11 boys. The average attendance had been only 27, barely two-thirds of the enrollment.

Moore was anxious that parents should get a first-hand acquaintance with the school. His report said: “There have been 48 visitors during the term, 39 of whom were present during some part of the term’s examination. We are glad to know that some few parents take sufficient interest to visit the school at least once a term. We are inclined to think that it would be well for other parents to do the same and not trust quite so much to hearsay.”

A year later conditions at the high school had worsened, and Principal Moore was outspoken in his report. Enrollment had fallen from 38 to 27. Four of those had left school after the first week, and of the remaining 23, four pupils kept up only casual attendance. Of the remaining 19, the principal reported the work of 14 as excellent, three as very good, one as good, and one as very poor. Furthermore he printed the names, even of the girl whose work he reported as very poor. Only one pupil, Florence Tuttle, had been neither absent nor tardy during the whole term. Frank Philbrick had been present every day, but had been tardy nine times. Of one pupil the principal said: “Sara C., what time she was connected with the school, ranked as excellent, but rather than submit to wholesome regulations, she left the school in a decidedly ludicrous manner.” Principal Moore concluded his report with these words: “The school still suffers from a want of thorough and systematic grading. It becomes the parents to see to it, in the coming year, that some grading is accomplished. Another serious hindrance is the failure of the parents to support the teacher in such rules as are absolutely necessary in a well regulated school.”

Moore’s report, published in the Waterville Mail, led to such repercussions in 1863 that a week later the editor of the paper had this to say: “We think we were led into an error in publishing Mr. Moore’s report last week. We have reason to fear that he was unjustly personal toward at least two of the pupils; but having for a succession of terms found Mr. Moore’s reports carefully and kindly drawn, we confided more to his candor than perhaps we should. If we have been led to lend our paper to the gratification of private dislikes, the fault should rest where it belongs.”

It is apparent the editor had received indignant protests; so he weaseled out of it as usual, leaving the poor principal to bear the entire brunt.

A lot of people were determined that their children should receive an education back in the 1870’s. Often the terms of the public school districts were of short duration and poorly taught. Hence the prosperity of the private schools. These were successors of the so-called “dame schools” of colonial times, taught by women. It became a common practice in Waterville, as well as in other communities, for such private schools to supplement the public school during the long vacation in the spring. That practice accounts for the following ad which appeared in the Waterville Mail in February, 1864: “A school, which will be open to all except the youngest scholars, will be taught at the high school room in the South Brick Schoolhouse during the long vacation of the public schools this spring. It will be in charge of Miss Frances Nye, whose efficiency and faithfulness have been abundantly shown in her management of the grammar school in this district. The school will commence on Monday, March 7, and the tuition will be from 17 to 20 cents per week.”

In the 1860’s the school district system was at its highest, though by state law the towns had come to exercise some control over the districts. It was the custom, however, to leave the districts — there were more than twenty of them in Waterville — almost entirely independent. That is why the Waterville voters at town meeting in 1864 voted favorably on this article in the warrant: “To see if the town will vote to authorize the several school districts to choose their agents for the ensuing year, in district meetings lawfully assembled for the purpose.”

The school district lines were well fixed, but someone was always complaining that he wanted his children to go to a different school. So there was another article in Waterville’s 1864 warrant which said: “To see if the town will vote to set off Silas Jackson from School District 8 and annex him to District 10.”

That year Waterville spent for the support of all of its public schools a total of $3,226. Small as that amount was, it was twice what the town spent on roads and bridges. The unusual expense, which was placing a heavy burden on the taxpayers, was the support of the families of men who had enlisted in the Civil War. In 1863 that amounted to over $2,500, and in addition the town had paid $150 each to seven men who enlisted, another total of $1,050. Thus the current expenses directly due to the war cost Waterville $3,550, three hundred dollars more than all the expense of operating the schools.

As Maine towns went, Waterville was a strong, patriotic center during the Civil War. It held some of the most enthusiastic mass meetings in the state, and it always raised its quota of troops and over-subscribed its financial obligations.

But even in Waterville there were croakers and doubters, especially in the early years of the war, when Union defeats were more frequent than victories. In January, 1863 the editor of the Waterville Mail thought he had better attack that pessimism, so he published the following editorial: “Every misfortune raises a howl from the secession outposts all through the North, which rumbles on until it is taken up by the honest but trembling class of Union men who are entirely unsuspicious of the source of the wailing, and in whose mouths it is turned from bursts of indignation to groans of despair. General Butler said in his Boston speech that the soldiers of the army were not half as doubtful of the result as were the men at home. While they know the strength of the enemy, they are more deeply impressed with the justice of their own cause. Then let the men who stay at home and whine go into the ranks and fight. Let them learn, amid the whistle of bullets, that stout hearts are the foundation of true loyalty and patriotism.”

Politics raises its ugly head in all sorts of situations. and just a hundred years ago, in 1859, it played a part in the operation of the state reform school for boys. The situation became so notorious that the Kennebec Journal decided to blast it in an editorial. This is what the editor said: “The number of boys now in the state reform school is 166. Six of them are from Augusta. We urge that the Legislature remove from the Governor and Council all right of pardons at this school. Their exercise of that right has confounded all ideas of right and wrong. Discharge from the school can be obtained by political favor quite as easily as by merit. Once let the boys understand that they can escape from the school through the influence of politicians and all discipline will collapse. We also question the wisdom of the present statute which requires towns to contribute to the support of boys they send to the reform school. The effect of that law is for the authorities to overlook crime in its early stages and necessitates the later conviction of hardened lads who could have been saved by more timely discipline.”

Now note how the editor got in a plug for public education. This is the way he closed his editorial: “The greatest source of youthful crime in our cities and larger villages is the failure to keep children in school. The compulsory attendance law is not enforced in many Maine communities.”

Do you remember the clothes line thefts that plagued the west end of Waterville a few years back? Well, it is interesting to note that they had the same trouble a hundred years ago. The stealing was then attributed to the rising price of cotton caused by the war. Yet, despite the war, or probably because of it, business was good in Waterville in the winter of 1862-63. Listen to this from the Waterville Mail of February 12, 1863: “We have never seen our streets give better evidence of activity in business than they have this winter. Prices are high, but money is plentiful, and everybody is busy in efforts to secure a little against a time of scarcity. Nobody grumbles at prices, even when a few bales of cotton are burned by Rebels and the next day shirting goes up 25%. Crapeau saws your wood for a dollar as easily as he did last year for fifty cents. Somebody offers four dollars for a load of wood. ‘No, you don’t’, says the driver. ‘I’ll get five dollars for this load or haul it back horne’. Anyhow, coffee at 44 cents and tea at a dollar tastes quite as good as they did before Sumter fell.”

Our older people are familiar with the expression “working on the road”, or more expressly, “working out his taxes on the road”. For many years it was the custom to keep the roads in repair by having residents work on the jobs long enough to have their wages equal the amount of their taxes. In 1853 Waterville had changed that plan for a contract system, whereby the road projects were planned and voted, then let out to the lowest bidder. By 1863 Waterville had had enough of the contract plan. A newspaper report of that year’s town meeting said: “After much discussion it was voted to go back to the old labor system of keeping the roads in repair, instead of the contract system which has been pursued for the past ten years. The farmers contend that it is easier for them to contribute their labor than to pay in cash, but we doubt if many of them will be willing to work for 75 cents a day, which is the rate fixed by the town meeting vote. The price of labor was indeed, by that vote, fixed as follows: men, ten cents an hour; yoke of oxen or span of horses, ten cents an hour; plough, five cents an hour while in actual use; cart, twenty-five cents per day. Anyone who wants to pay his taxes in cash can pay at the rate of 75 cents for $1.00 worth of labor, which actually makes a man’s work for a ten hour day equal to 75 cents. We suspect the surveyor will have more cash than labor at his disposal.”

I have often spoken of J. H. Gilbreth of Fairfield, father of Frank Gilbreth, whose family was responsible for the book and motion picture, “Cheaper by the Dozen”. J. H. was a man of many interests: hardware merchant, dabbler in real estate, breeder of trotting horses, and always ready for a shrewd trade of any kind. Only recently I learned that Gilbreth operated a nursery. His ad said: “This nursery contains a large and choice variety of apple trees, from the age of four to seven years, which have been grown on a cold, bleak island, and consequently are extremely hardy. We feel confident these trees will do well in any locality. Trees will be delivered at the depot when ordered. We also have grape vines and cherry trees.”

Just to show the breadth and variety of Mr. Gilbreth’s interests, let us close tonight’s program with another of his ads: “House to rent on Water Street in Kendalls Mills. Also I want to purchase 200 cords of hemlock bark, 200 pounds of butter, and 1,000 bushels of oats. J. H. Gilbreth.”

Year: 1959