Origins
of the American Land Grant College Movement
Daniel W. Lang
Ontario
Institute For Studies in Education
University of
Toronto
Abstract
The passage of the
Agricultural College Act is a defining event in the history of higher education
in the United States. The phrase ‘land grant college’ is broadly recognized to
denote public institutions committed to broad accessibility, to agricultural
and mechanical education, to research, and to public service. But in 1862, when
the Agricultural College Act was passed, the concept of a ‘land grant college’
was neither well defined nor broadly understood. The bill’s principal sponsor,
Justin Morrill of Vermont, was not an educator, and had never explained, even
generally, what sort of institution the act was meant to support. He later
claimed that the very name of the legislation was a mistake. This leaves a
number of questions about the origins of the Agricultural College Act as an
educational — as opposed to financial — concept. Since the act was passed there
have been several serious historical debates about its origin, its purpose, and
the political and educational impetus behind it. Morrill and Jonathan Baldwin
Turner of Illinois have been acclaimed as ‘father’ of the act. But the case for
either of them is weak and in many ways problematic. There was, however,
another person who played a major role in the land grant college movement and
in the passage of the act. He was Amos Brown, president of The People’s
College. This study describes Brown’s origin, his educational philosophy, and
especially his highly influential role in the passage of the Agricultural
College Act. The study also describes the practical issues and problems that
confronted 19th century college leaders in establishing and building their
institution.
Introduction:
T |
he passage
of the Agricultural College Act in 1862 is widely regarded as the watershed
from which the modern American public university emerged. The
direct, albeit not immediate, effect of the Agricultural College Act was the
creation of American land grant colleges. The land grant colleges were a
practical means of broadening access to higher education, in terms of both
geography and participation. In the years that followed the passage of the
Agricultural College Act, from the late 1860s to the beginning of the 20th
century, new universities were founded, existing colleges were revamped and
reorganized, and the liberal arts or ‘classical’ college transformed – all
largely on the model of the land grant college. In the half-century prior to
the outbreak of the Civil War, various attempts had been made to reform the
American college itself, which was for the most part an adaptation of the
English model of collegiate education. Successful reforms were few in number
and insignificant in terms of practical effect.
Had the spirit and substance of reform been incremental and
progressive, the land grant college might then and now have been regarded
conventionally as an evolutionary idea whose time had come. The history of the
land grant university, however, is neither that simple nor predetermined.
Virtually from the inception of the Agricultural College Act, its
origin, purpose, and the political and educational impetus behind it were the
subjects of debate. Justin Smith Morrill, the sponsor of the act in the
Congress, and Jonathan Baldwin Turner of Illinois were each later acclaimed as
‘father’ of the act and the land grant college movement. There were other
contenders as well (Williams, 1991). But the acclamation of their parenthood —
even if one could agree on which of them really deserved the credit — did not
give clear definition to the movement itself, which for several years was
confused and uncertain. In 1862, when the Agricultural College Act was finally
passed after a defeat by presidential veto in 1859, the concept of a land grant
college was neither well defined nor broadly understood. Even after the act was
passed, well into the 1870s, founders of new colleges and reformers of existing
ones were unclear about what the legislation actually intended.
The concept of what came to be known as the American land grant
college was not, however, without precedent and another, more articulate,
spokesperson. The precedent predated either Morrill’s or Turner’s plans.
Chartered in 1853 in New York, The People’s College was the model of the land
grant college which was presented to the public and, more significantly, to the
members of Congress when the Agricultural College Act was brought forward,
unsuccessfully in 1859 and successfully in 1862. In New York, The People’s
College was so closely identified with the Agricultural College Act that it,
and not Cornell University, was the state’s originally designated land grant
institution.
Background
A |
n earlier
study of The People’s College and its relation to the origins of the Land Grant
Act (Lang, 1978) demonstrated that the concept of agricultural education was
developed comparatively well by the 1850s, but that the particular means of
devising a curriculum for agricultural education and organizing it
institutionally were still the subjects of considerable disagreement which the
Agricultural College Act neither addressed nor resolved. The concept of higher
education for the mechanical arts was at most vague and at least non-existent.
While various prominent individuals and interest groups supported either higher
education for farmers or higher education for mechanics, very few supported
both or imagined how they could be combined in a single institution.
Morrill’s and Turner’s plans, neither of which was definitive,
were developed sometime between 1855 and 1857. By then interest in higher
education for farmers was not new, as it was for mechanics. Agricultural
societies and journals in the United States had been promoting agricultural
education since the early 19th century. The idea of a college for farmers can
be found as early as 1819. But the pattern by which the movement for mechanical
education evolved was unlike that for agricultural education and, indeed,
unlike that for virtually any other area of American higher education.
Although both movements
comprised similar elements, such as societies, journals, and fairs, the
movement to found colleges for farmers was considerably more coalescent and
homogeneous. While there was no firm curricular definition for agricultural
education, there was at least a general understanding about what it might
entail. That was not so for mechanical education, which at times was understood
to mean anything from educating architects and civil engineers to training machine
operators and skilled tradesmen. Sometimes the mechanic arts
were combined with agriculture and taken to mean the manufacture and operation
of farm machinery. This was the practice at the Gardiner Lyceum, which is often
identified as the first agricultural school in the United States.
Even Morrill and Turner used the terms ‘mechanic’ and ‘industrial
arts’ loosely at best, and their plans for higher education were seen and
promoted as being designed to serve the farmer almost exclusively. Morrill’s bill
was named, significantly, the Agricultural College Act. After the bill was passed, the states were
uncertain about what it intended for higher education in the mechanic arts.
Morrill himself confessed to being uncertain.
What the history of The People’s College made clear were the
educational, as opposed to financial, origins of the Agricultural College Act.
The college’s history revealed the fragility of the coalitions on which early
prototypes of what was to become the land grant college model were founded. It
explained as well the role of organized labor and its expectations for what the
act was to describe as the ‘mechanic arts’. Studying The People’s College also
exposed some of the financial and speculative tactics that surrounded the
actual awarding and liquidation of the land grants, and which motivated the
supporters of some of the colleges.
Despite what is now known about The People’s College, some
important questions remain about its leadership and its influence on the land
grant college legislation. The President of The People’s College was Amos
Brown, who, at the college’s founding, explained its name and purpose thus:
We call the institution The People’s College, intending... the
name shall indicate something of its purpose, and the word People’s has
undoubtedly a particular significance as used in this connection... it is meant
to suggest... that some modification of the prevailing systems of college
education in this country is demanded to enable them better to subserve the
wants of the people.
The modifications of which Brown spoke were significant. At the
time some were unusual, even unique. The People’s College’s first objective was
to provide an education that would prepare a student to enter a mechanical
trade or take up scientific farming immediately after graduation. In addition
to offering courses in agricultural and mechanical subjects, the College would
operate model machine shops and a farm, in which students would work as a
regular part of their courses of instruction. The College would be fully
coeducational. Women would not only be admitted to the College, but they would
enroll in agricultural and mechanical courses with men and would be awarded the
same degree. The College would be open not only to the sons and daughters of
farmers and mechanics, but also to farmers and mechanics themselves. Adults
would be invited to attend lectures and could defray the costs of their
attendance by working on the farm or in the shops with students to whom they
would impart their own first-hand knowledge of farming or a trade. By their
labour in the shops or on the farm, students would be enabled by the time of
graduation to accumulate enough capital to establish themselves in farming or a
trade. To graduate, a student would have to demonstrate practical and
theoretical competence in agriculture or a specific trade. The College’s
diploma would expressly specify the trade that the student had mastered.
The aims of The People’s College set it distinctly apart from
other colleges, and from the various plans for agricultural colleges. Its
origins also set the college apart. The tap root of The People’s College went
to organized labour, a sector that many historians of American higher education
have viewed as being uninterested in educational reform prior to the passage of
the Agricultural College Act (Field, 1976). The College openly disavowed
religious affiliations and for a time abjured support from government. The plan
for the College called for support from farmers and mechanics alone. At the outset
large benefactions were actively discouraged.
The People’s College was a prototype for the land grant colleges
(Curtis & Carstersen, 1949, p. 28) and was presented as such to the Congress during debates on the
Agricultural College Act. Amos Brown, as the college’s president, was the
primary lobbyist for the Act. Despite their importance to the Agricultural
College Act and to the concept of the land grant college, neither Amos Brown
nor, until relatively recently, The People’s College is known well to history.
Their backgrounds and origins were, particularly in the case of the College,
outside the mainstream from which the land grant college is conventionally
thought to have emerged.
An historical examination of the life of Amos Brown can reveal
several significant aspects of the formation of the land grant college idea and
its practical application. Brown actually built a physically new kind of
college, recruited and appointed a faculty, dealt with the novel coalition of
interest groups that supported The People’s College, and with the new and
remarkable concoction of educational ideas – agricultural education, mechanical
education, coeducation, local boosterism and accessibility for the industrial
classes – that the college represented. He did all of this ten to twenty years
before other college presidents took up similar challenges. For example, almost
every one of these issues and ideas was on the agenda of the Convention of the
Friends of Agricultural Education which met in 1871 to review the progress of
the land grant colleges (Hatch, 1967a). The convention was an annual event that
evolved into the Association of State Universities and Land-Grant Colleges in
1887.
Tracing Amos Brown’s own educational philosophy – as opposed to
that of The People’s College – is also important. Unlike many of the supporters
of The People’s College, Brown was not a radical. His early education and
ambitions were relatively conventional. His ideas were the product of evolution
instead of revolution, although in the end he would fervently promote and
largely embrace all that The People’s College represented. Because Brown met
face to face with most of the members of the U.S. Congress and the New York
State Assembly in securing the passage of the Agricultural College Act and the
subsequent award of the New York land grant to The People’s College, his own
educational views must have been broadly exposed. More significantly, the
extent to which Brown molded the original idea of The People’s College to suit
legislative politics reveals to an even greater extent what the proponents of
the Agricultural College Act thought the institutions be founded under its
auspices would be like.
Early
Life
A |
mos Brown
was a New Englander. His boyhood was spent on his father’s farm in
Kensington,
New Hampshire, where he was born in 1804. After attending the local district
school, Brown entered nearby Hampton Academy at the age of 18 with the
intention of preparing himself for medical school. At Hampton he came under the
influence of the local Congregational minister, who persuaded him to commit his
life to the ministry. After leaving Hampton Academy, Brown taught in several
district schools throughout New Hampshire while preparing himself for Dartmouth
College, which he entered in 1829. At Dartmouth he studied theology and was
especially interested in moral philosophy and metaphysics. He did not like the
sciences and did not study them. He graduated from Dartmouth in 1832 with a
good scholastic reputation.
After graduating from Dartmouth, Amos Brown enrolled at the
Andover Theological Seminary. He had been there only a few months when he was
offered the principalship of an academy in Fryeburg, Maine. He taught at
Fryeburg for one year and then returned to and over,
where he remained until 1835.
In the fall of 1835 he was named principal of Gorham Academy, also
in the State of Maine. He headed Gorham Academy for a dozen years and earned a
reputation as an educational innovator and organizer. Brown’s innovations — at
the time his plan was known as the ‘new departure’ – were that Gorham Academy
would offer a special program to train teachers, would be fully co-educational,
and would be staffed entirely by professional educators, all of which were
novel practices at the time. The Academy flourished under Brown’s leadership
and enjoyed a reputation that attracted students from several states. In
addition to being a dynamic principal, Brown was himself an excellent teacher.
Horace Mann, who visited the Gorham Academy, called Brown “one of the best teachers
in New England”. Brown’s teaching style was “rather to draw out, than pour in”
and thereby to stimulate his students to think independently. Brown
also exerted an influence on the State of Maine’s educational system. In 1846,
he was one of four persons who were appointed to review schools throughout the
state. One result of the review was the formation of the State Board of
Education, on which Brown served in 1849. That there was a State Board of
Education at all was of some significance. School reform, through the
foundation of boards of education with the power to tax and regulate, was not
popular with manufacturers, farmers, and many working class parents, all of
whom depended to a considerable degree on child labour and saw no need for
popular schooling. The fight for school reform through boards of education was
led by professional educators like Horace Mann, Henry Barnard, and to a smaller
extent Amos Brown. Mann’s association with Brown continued through the 1860s.
While Amos Brown was innovative and energetic, he was also
zealous, temperamental, and self-righteous. He quarreled often with the
trustees of Gorham Academy and finally resigned in 1848 to accept a call to the
pastorate of the Congregational Church in Machias, Maine. He devoted himself to
the ministry and enjoyed it, but after three years in Machias his irascible
personality resulted in his dismissal by the congregation.
In the summer of 1852 he toured New York in search of an academy
where he could return to teaching. He stopped for church services in Ovid, a
small village on the northeastern shore of Seneca Lake, where he discovered a
small unsuccessful academy in need of leadership. The Ovid Academy, opened in
1827, had known good years and bad. By 1852 the bad years outnumbered the good
and the school had only about six students. Brown promised the trustees of Ovid
Academy that he would revive the school and make it a success. A
particular item in Brown’s plan for Ovid Academy was the introduction of a
course in agricultural science, which he thought would appeal to the academy’s
trustees, most of whom were farmers. He was right. The trustees were impressed
by his plans and were particularly attracted to the agricultural science
proposal. A specific term in the formal agreement between Brown and the
trustees of the Academy was that the trustees would annually raise $600 by
subscription to pay one teacher to provide instruction and deliver public
lectures in agricultural chemistry and botany.
Brown himself was not competent, either by interest or training,
to teach courses in agriculture. He therefore hired William H. Brewer, a young
man who had recently graduated from the agricultural chemistry course at Yale.
All of the other teachers whom Brown hired were persons who had been his
associates or students at Gorham Academy. Ovid Academy opened the 1852-53
school year with five teachers — two of whom were women — and 23 students.
Within three years the Board of Regents could describe the Academy as the best
organized school in the state. Ovid Academy was so successful that by
1855 it had outgrown its building and was planning to change its name to the
Seneca Collegiate Institute. At the dedication of the Academy’s new building,
which was completed in 1855, one of the speakers delivered an address that
called for the revitalization of the State Agricultural College, which although
chartered, had been moribund since the fall of 1853.
New
York State Agricultural College
W |
hile the
idea for an agricultural college in New York can be traced to as early as 1819,
impetus for a college for farmers became strongest after 1841 when the New York
State Agricultural Society was reorganized and strengthened by an act of the
state legislature. This act gave the Society a mandate to promote agricultural
education through a publishing program. Between 1842 and 1852, six bills
calling for the establishment of a college were introduced on the Society’s
behalf, but none was passed.
In 1853 two events occurred which caused the legislature to favour
a charter for a state agricultural college. The first was the election of a new
president of the State Agricultural Society. John Delafield was a strong leader
and influential spokesman for farm interests. Under his leadership a new bill
was prepared and introduced.
The second and more
important event was the introduction of a bill to charter The People’s College.
The movement to found The People’s College originated in a labour
organization called the Mechanics’ Mutual Protection, an organization with
which Amos Brown was not associated at that time. At its inception in the late
1820s organized labour was not interested in education. In the 1830s some
labour groups took strong political positions in favour of educational reform
in the common schools, but there still was no interest in higher education or
in mechanical education as such. In the unpropitious times that followed the
Panic of 1837 and, coincidentally, as manufacturing processes became more
specialized and industrial technology advanced, the educational attitudes of
labour organizations that represented mechanics and skilled tradesmen began to
change. Some of these organizations and the mechanics’ newspapers that they
sponsored took strong positions in favour of education designed specifically
and exclusively for the mechanic.
In 1848 the Mechanics Mutual Protection had about 10,000 members
in 250 chapters. It became interested in higher education. One year later it
introduced a proposal to establish a college for mechanics and artisans. The
Protection’s scheme received much popular support and attention. The People’s
College Association was formed to raise money for the College. In 1852, the
Association had a bill drawn up to charter the College by the legislature. The
legislature approved the bill on April 12, 1853. Two days later a charter was
approved for the State Agricultural College. Although the legislature had
previously defeated six similar bills to found an agricultural college, the
passage of The People’s College bill made it politically untenable to oppose
the State Agricultural College.
While the name of the State Agricultural College bill suggests
that it was a publicly supported institution, it was not. The State
Agricultural Society had sought an appropriation from the state treasury for
the College, but it had been denied. The People’s College, faithful to its
principles, had not sought an appropriation. The Society’s plan was to locate
the college on Delafield’s farm in Fayette, thus reducing a major capital cost
of the project. But Delafield died only a few months after the College was
chartered, and the project foundered while the movement to found The People’s
College moved enthusiastically forward.
By the end of 1855, following a speech calling for revitalization
of the State Agricultural College, Amos Brown was developing plans to petition
the legislature to permit the college’s charter to be transferred to a new
board of trustees and have the College located in Ovid. The keystone of Brown’s
scheme was an unused fund in the State’s treasury from which he hoped to obtain
a long term loan with no interest. On March 1, 1856, the legislature passed a
bill — which Brown had personally lobbied through the preliminary committees —
that would allow the college to be transferred to Ovid and would provide a loan
of $40,000 on the condition that the new trustees raise an identical amount.
In less than one year
Brown and the trustees raised about $47,000 through the sale of subscriptions.
Most subscriptions were small and came from local farmers. But only a few of
the subscriptions were paid in cash, and the state comptroller refused to
advance the loan until the trustees actually had $40,000 cash in hand. Brown
was not dismayed. He persisted in his efforts to raise the needed funds.
Ironically, even though Brown’s success was not complete, it
encouraged the college’s original board of trustees to reorganize. They met in
Albany in the spring of 1857 and in Ovid in June. As vacancies occurred on the
new board, they were filled by members of the old board. At the June meeting,
the old members were able to place Arad Joy and John E. Seeley on the new
board. Joy and Seeley were also trustees of the Ovid Academy and both had had
strong disagreements with Brown about his management of the academy.
Although the state comptroller had not released the loan earmarked
for the State Agricultural College, the trustees, both old and new, expected
that the conditions necessary for the loan to be made would soon be met. In
anticipation of the unpaid subscriptions being honoured and the loan made, the
trustees met in July 1857 to select a president for the college. Brown hoped
and expected that he would be selected. But he had made enemies on the board,
as he had done twice earlier in his career. His principal opponent, Arad Joy,
not only had quarreled with him but also wanted the presidency for his son,
Charles A. Joy. Even some of Brown’s admirers were not confident that he was
the best person to head the College. They knew first-hand that he was a difficult
person with whom to get along. His closest associates at Ovid Academy, W. H.
Brewer and J. W. Chickering, agreed that Brown’s personality ranged mercurially
from genius to instability.
When the vote was taken to elect a president for the State Agricultural
College, Amos Brown was not chosen. Ironically, Charles Joy, who was well
qualified for the position, was not chosen either. The College was managed to
its disadvantage by a committee until 1858, when Samuel Cheever was appointed
president. Cheever, a political hack, was so lacking in competence that W. H.
Brewer concluded that “had the Trustees been actively searching . . . for a man
unfit for the place they could not have been more eminently successful.”
Cheever’s inept leadership and the financial depression of 1857 combined to
stall further development of the State Agricultural College.
The
People’s College
A |
mos Brown
was disappointed and bitter about his rejection by the State Agricultural
College, but within weeks he was offered the presidency of The People’s
College, which was moving towards completion in Havana, not far from Ovid. The
trustees of The People’s College knew Brown and his work at Ovid, but it was
the college’s principal benefactor, Charles Cook, who championed Brown’s nomination.
Cook and Brown had met and become closely acquainted when both were in Albany
lobbying for their respective interests — Cook, for the designation of Havana
as a county seat and Brown for the loan for the State Agricultural College.
It was Charles Cook’s interest in boosting Havana that had drawn
him to The People’s College. Cook had made a fortune on canal and railway
projects. One of the projects brought him to Havana, which he developed
extensively and where he eventually owned more than a dozen businesses and
several farms. Cook was a harsh person. Even his admirers confessed that his
personality was abrasive and domineering. On several occasions his business and
civic ethics were publicly criticized. Cook was neither an educated nor
intellectual person. He was active politically, but was not associated with any
of the many reform movements that characterized New York politics in the 1840s
and 1850s. Cook never had been employed as either a mechanic or farmer.
Throughout his entire association with The People’s College, Cook’s only
explanation of his motives was that he wanted to make Havana a “little Oxford”.
But The People’s College, even by the broadest definition, was the antithesis
of Oxford.
It was Charles Cook’s desire to promote Havana and his business
interests there which motivated his interest in The People’s College. In
1853 and 1854 Cook had led a fight to create a new county from the area
surrounding Havana. He won, but soon discovered that other towns in the new
county had aspirations to be named the county seat. Another political battle
ensued in which competing towns sought to prove themselves worthy of being the
county seat. Cook saw The People’s College as an asset that could not be
matched by other towns. Through his fortuitous meeting with Brown in Albany, he
learned that state funds could be obtained to finance a college. To attract The
People’s College to Havana, Cook offered its trustees $25,000, a building site,
and a farm. Cook’s offer was formally accepted early in 1857.
Amos Brown was enthusiastic about The People’s College and eagerly
accepted the offer to become its president. Although his organizational
ability, gift for teaching, and zealous talent for fund-raising were attractive
qualities, Brown was in several ways a peculiar choice for the presidency of
The People’s College. His entire academic training was in theology and
philosophy. He not only had no background in the sciences, he did not like
them. W. H. Brewer, who knew him well, said that Brown had “less mechanical
instinct than any other intelligent man” he had ever known.
Brown introduced an agricultural course at Ovid Academy, but did
not study or teach agricultural science himself. One of his students at the
academy, who later became president of a land grant university, especially
remarked that Brown lacked knowledge about agriculture. Even if Brown had been
knowledgeable about agriculture, his ideas for agricultural education were
unlike those that had been proposed for The People’s College. Although they had
had some initial doubts the Mechanics’ Mutual Protection, and later the
People’s College Association had decided that the college should not offer the
classical collegiate course. The college, they insisted, would offer courses in
mechanical and agricultural education exclusively. One of Amos Brown’s
principal plans for Ovid Academy and the State Agricultural College was to
develop an agricultural program around a core of the classical collegiate
course.
Given his efforts to obtain a loan for the State Agricultural
College, Brown obviously believed that the state should be called on to support
higher education. The proponents of The People’s College had decided that, as a
matter of principle, the College should abjure support from the public
treasury.
None of these attributes recommended Amos Brown for the presidency
of The People’s College. But there were others that did. One of the college’s
most difficult public relations problems was its plan to be fully
coeducational. Coeducation was not popular. Brown had successfully fought a
battle for coeducation at Gorham Academy and was personally committed to the
concept, mainly because so many teachers were women. Throughout his career Amos
Brown was inconsistent about many things, but a lodestone was his abiding
interest in teaching teachers, including women. Most organized opposition to
coeducation came from religious groups. As a clergyman, Brown could effectively
present the College’s case to its opponents.
Brown also was flexible and saw the merits of compromise coupled
with promotion. His reform and revival of the academy at Ovid, and his plans
for the State Agricultural College demonstrated these qualities, which were the
very qualities that Charles Cook quickly noticed. Brown’s greatest attributes
for presidency of the college were his experience and the strength of his
personality. After Charles Cook’s patronage had been accepted, the
college’s board of trustees became divided between trustees, who had been appointed by the Mechanics’
Mutual Protection and the People’s College Association who wanted a college
that would serve mechanics and farmers and trustees who were appointed through
the influence of Charles Cook and who wanted a college, any college, that would
boost Havana.
The old trustees had many disagreements with Charles Cook, who
personally dominated the board’s affairs. The new trustees were more trustful
of Cook, but were concerned that he was away from Havana too often to give the
college the leadership that it needed. The selection of a strong president with
educational experience, therefore, became an imperative for old and new
trustees alike, which was in significant contrast to the political bickering
among the trustees of the State Agricultural College.
Predictably, when strong personalities meet there is conflict. The
college’s president and its principal benefactor were not always in agreement.
Brown soon became concerned that Cook was neither competent to handle the
affairs of a college nor committed to education. Brown even doubted that Cook
had any clear-cut objectives for the college. “Mr. Cook,” he said, “has been
operating too much without a plan and has injured the concern, but probably not
seriously. His no policy operation will have the effect to kill my efficiency.”
Given Brown’s later relationship with Justin Morrill, he might have said the
same thing about him. What Brown was trying to do with so called efficiency was
to recruit a faculty, develop a plan of studies, and respond to hundreds of
students who were applying to the College even though it was not open.
Brown’s plans for the college departed significantly from the
plans set earlier by the Mechanics’ Mutual Protection and the People’s College
Association. He called for three separate courses of study and 23 professorships.
The courses of study were designated the Classical, the Scientific, and the
Provisional or Select. The first two would award the degrees of Bachelor of
Arts and Bachelor of Science respectively; the Provisional course would offer
no degree and had no specified terms of enrolment. Requirements for admission
to the courses were dissimilar, and suggest that the Classical course was
intended to be more rigorous than the Scientific, with both more rigorous than
the Provisional. The specific requirements for admission to the Classical
course were no less strict than those to any liberal arts college, nor were
they any different. As far as admissions requirements were concerned, the
Scientific course was a diminished version of the Classical course. This was a
pattern not uncommon in other colleges that had begun to offer courses in the
sciences, but had not accorded to them full academic respectability. In its two
primary courses, then, Brown’s plan was neither remarkable nor unusually
progressive.
If requirements for admission were indicative of academic
respectability and importance, the Provisional or Select course was held in no
esteem by Brown. The course was not a coherent program but simply an
opportunity to take courses randomly, provided that the student did not get in
the way of students in the other two courses. It was in the Provisional course
that students might learn applied skills in mechanical and agricultural
education.
Brown’s plans placed him at odds with the old trustees, who were
committed to the college’s offering a rigorous course in mechanical and
agricultural education. While they were not adamantly opposed to the Classical
course, they thought that it would be of little value to farmers and mechanics.
The idea of extensive and stringent admission requirements also clashed with
the original plans for the college, which had called for easy and broad access
to the school.
Brown’s plan included a manual labour provision, but it was
tangential to the course of study rather than part of it. The plan for The
People’s College, as first conceived, went significantly beyond the manual
labour idea by making work on the College’s farm and in its machine shops an
integral part of the courses of instruction. The College’s building was
designed around a steam engine and machine shops.
Deeds often speak louder than words, and with greater historical
clarity. Despite the differences between Amos Brown’s plans for The People’s
College and those of the Mechanics’ Mutual Protection, Brown could claim two
important accomplishments: the college’s construction was completed, a model
farm purchased and stocked, and a faculty recruited and appointed. The physical
expression of the college was entirely consistent with the plans put forward by
the Mechanics’ Mutual Protection and publicized in the college’s prospectus
that Brown would later use in lobbying the Congress.
The faculty who had been recruited principally by Brown, despite
the occasional interference of Charles Cook, also was the sort of faculty called
for in the Protection’s plans. So, while Amos Brown had an educational
philosophy different from that of the college’s principal sponsors, what he
actually did was in full accordance with their plans, which significantly were
the public plans for The People’s College. The
faculty recruited by Brown was remarkable. By 1864 eleven academic appointments
had been made, including Brown himself, who was professor of intellectual and
moral philosophy. The majority of these appointments were in agriculture and
the mechanic arts. An examination of the catalogues of the land grant colleges
and universities from the decade that followed passage of the Agricultural
College Act indicates that none of them, even the larger institutions, had an
equivalent faculty in these areas. At Cornell University, for example, a
professor of “practical mechanics” was appointed,
but in fact taught mathematics and physics because he did not have the models
or equipment needed to teach mechanical subjects (Bishop, 1962, p.169). Courses in mechanics were not actually offered. At the outset
the university’s farm was at best an embarrassment and at worst a disgrace.
According to Bishop the agricultural
faculty, who
were eventually recruited with great difficulty, were not fully competent.
The
Sheffield Scientific School at Yale University (which was the State of
Connecticut’s original land grant institution) reported the same problem in
launching a program in the mechanic arts. Late as 1871, deliberate plans were
made at the University of Minnesota to delay the establishment of an
educational farm.
A final note about the faculty who were
recruited by Amos Brown: two of them became leaders in the land grant college
movement. Williams Watts Folwell became the president of the University of
Minnesota. W. H. Brewer became a professor of agricultural chemistry at the
Sheffield Scientific School. It appears that Brown sought and was able to find
quality in making appointments to The People’s College’s faculty.
The Agricultural College Act
T |
he
differences between Brown and the trustees over his plan of studies were not
immediately resolved, for late in 1857 Justin Smith Morrill introduced a bill
that would become the Agricultural College Act. Two months
before Morrill’s bill was introduced, Amos Brown had asked the College’s
trustees to endorse a resolution that called for him to visit Washington and
“procure the passage of a bill… making appropriation of a portion of the public
domain for the promotion of education in the several States similar in kind to
that provided for in the plan [the original plan] of The People’s College”.
Although Brown’s scheme had progressed to a point where
arrangements were being made for its presentation to the Congress, he was still
drafting the proposal when he learned about Morrill’s bill. According to W. H.
Brewer and J. W. Chickering, who were with him at the time, Brown was having
breakfast when he first read about Morrill’s bill in a newspaper and decided on
the spot that he should immediately go to Washington to work for the bill’s
passage. The college’s trustees concurred and authorized payment of Brown’s
travel expenses, which over the next four years were considerable for a college
that was neither fully built nor fully in operation.
Amos Brown arrived in Washington on January 4, 1858. Other than a
letter that Brown had sent ahead to announce his mission, Morrill knew little
about The People’s College or its president, but he was soon working closely
with Brown. According to Morrill, when Brown arrived in Washington “he entered
very zealously into canvassing for votes for the bill . . . He was not only a
willing worker, but discreet about exciting hostilities where he was unable to
secure favour”.
Through his lobbying, Brown promoted The People’s College as well
as Morrill’s bill. In Washington, he linked the college with the bill by
distributing circulars describing the college to every person with whom he
talked about the bill, thus leaving the impression — which Morrill knew about
and made no effort to refute — that The People’s College was a model of the
colleges that would be founded under the auspices of the land grant.
Significantly, the circulars described the plans that the Mechanics’ Mutual
Protection and the People’s College Association had set for the College, not
Brown’s new plan. In New York, newspapers began to refer to Morrill’s bill as
“the People’s College bill.”
The course of Morrill’s bill was slowed by the delaying tactics of
its opponents. The final vote did not take place until February 7, 1859, nearly
14 months after the bill was introduced. During these months, Amos Brown spent
most of his time in Washington, returning to Havana only for short visits and
when the Congress was not in session. When the bill was passed, The People’s College’s
trustees were jubilant since, by dint of Brown’s lobbying, they expected the
college to be a principal beneficiary of the bill. Plans were made “for
planting People’s Colleges… in all the states”. But the joy was cut short. Two
weeks after its passage, the bill was vetoed by President Buchanan, primarily
on the grounds that it violated constitutionally guaranteed states’ rights.
When the bill was vetoed, prospects for the college became
discouraging. The college building was underway, teachers wanted to join the
faculty, and students wanted to enroll, but there
was not enough money to open the college. Most of the money that Brown and the
trustees were able to raise was being applied directly to completing the
college’s building. In January, 1860, a bill was introduced in
the New York legislature which called for an appropriation of $100,000 to
establish a permanent endowment for two years beginning in 1862.
The grant was never paid because the college was unable to meet
all of the conditions of the legislation. The most significant of these was
that the college should own the building for which its charter called. The
state’s comptroller refused to make the payment on the grounds that Charles
Cook held liens against the building and title to the land on which it was
located. The only realistic hope remaining for the college was that Morrill’s
bill, or one like it, could be passed under a new
administration.
When the Congress reconvened in December
1861, Amos Brown was again on hand to lobby for Morrill’s bill. Morrill
initially was not enthusiastic about reintroducing the bill; instead, he
thought that he should give all of his attention to coping with the tragedy of
civil war. But he did decide finally to reintroduce the bill. Brown remained in
Washington and by the end of January had met with nearly every member of the
House of Representatives to promote the bill and, coincidentally, The People’s
College. While the constitutional problems that had impeded the bill in 1859
were no longer present, the bill was opposed mainly on sectional issues. Brown
was eager to launch another lobbying campaign, but Morrill attempted to
dissuade him in the belief that any further efforts would be in vain. On
Brown’s suggestion, Morrill decided to ask Benjamin Wade,
Senator from Ohio, to introduce the bill in the Senate and thereby circumvent
the opposition in the House. The tactic worked. After several debates and with
a few minor amendments, the Agricultural College Act was passed on June 11,
1862, and signed by President Lincoln on July 2.
There was no doubt that New York would decide to take advantage of
the Agricultural College Act. The main question was what institution would be
designated to receive the benefit of the land grant. Although some consideration
was given briefly to establishing five new colleges throughout the state, only
The People’s College and the State Agricultural College had plausible claims to
the grant. The State Agricultural College was still moribund, but its charter
remained in force. The trustees, led by Cook and Brown, began immediately to
take the steps necessary to secure the land grant for The People’s College.
Their first step was to identify the College even further with the Agricultural
College Act. Amos Brown’s efforts in Washington had linked the act and the
College in the eyes of the Congress, but the question about which college would
receive the proceeds of the land grant would be decided in Albany, not
Washington. Therefore, Brown prepared a detailed account of his work in behalf
of the act, and the board of trustees procured letters from several members of
the Congress who described Brown’s contribution to the legislation. The account
and the letters were distributed
to the
legislature. Senators Wade and Fessenden called Amos Brown “father” of the
Agricultural
College Act. But the most influential letter came from Justin Morrill, who said
that the bill’s passage was “due to him [Brown] and the institution of which he
is head” and that the legislature should acknowledge the contribution in
awarding the proceeds of the land grant. Coming from Morrill, who was known for
his unwillingness to share credit with anyone this was powerful testimony in
the college’s favour.
On May 14, 1863 the legislature awarded the proceeds of the land
grant to The People’s College, on the conditions that within three years the
College should have ten “competent” professors, a fully stocked
farm of 200 acres, a fully equipped machine shop, a library, scientific
apparatus, and a completed building that could accommodate 250 students. A
final and most important condition, evidently aimed directly at Charles Cook,
was that all of the college’s property had “to be held by the… Trustees absolutely”.
Cook still held liens against the building and title to the land.
Until the conditions of the bill were met, the college could
collect not one cent of the proceeds of the land grant. The college’s victory
was, therefore, far from complete. Compliance depended on Charles Cook, but his
attitude towards the college had become strangely erratic. When he spoke before
the committee of the legislature, to which the bill to make the college the
state’s land grant institution had been referred, Cook assured the members that
all of the lands, buildings, and equipment needed to meet the terms of the
Agricultural College Act would be provided, presumably by him. When the
committee had drawn up the bill in final form, the members called Cook’s
attention to the conditions with which he would have to comply. Cook replied “with
strong emphasis that he would do no such thing” (New York State Constitutional
Convention, 1868, p. 2822). Cook was ill when the bill was being discussed in
the Senate, but he sent a spokesman to assure the members that he would indeed
comply with the terms of the bill. The bill was thereupon approved. Shortly
thereafter he told a member that “those were conditions that never would be
complied with, and that he would see the Legislature in — Heaven before he
would do it” (p. 2822). In 1865, in reference to the same incident, Daniel
Dickinson, who was a trustee of The People’s College said that “the People’s
College, so far as Mr. Cook is concerned, is a standing and impenetrable
mystery to me. If its history were written in Sanscrit I could read it as well”
(Becker, 1944, p. 231).
When confronted about his ambivalence towards the college, Cook
replied that he
would not
transfer title to the property to the trustees until the college had actually
received the land grant. But the state would not convey the proceeds of the
land grant to the college until the trustees held clear title to the property.
Cook’s stance placed The People’s College in a dilemma. And the dilemma was
sadly ironic, for Cook must have assumed that land or land scrip would be given
to the land grant colleges. The agricultural College Act specifically provided
that the land or land scrip had to be sold by the states and the proceeds of
the sale used to create an endowment for the land grant colleges. Neither the
states nor the colleges could themselves hold the land or land scrip. They had
to sell it. Cook’s motive evidently was to speculate in the sale of land scrip
by purchasing it at prices below which the actual land that the scrip
represented was worth or in time would be worth. This was hardly a remote
possibility given that most of the persons who purchased land scrip were
speculators (Gates, 1965) and given Cook’s commercial interest in the college.
The land grant had made the college even more attractive to the boosters of
Havana.
It was Charles Cook’s behaviour that led to Amos Brown’s downfall
as president of The People’s College. When the trustees met in June, 1863, to
consider how they might comply with the terms imposed on the college by the
legislature, Brown proposed that they again press Cook on the question about
ownership of the college’s land and building. At first Cook reacted angrily. He
said that he would convey clear title to the trustees, but would also resign
from the board and demand immediate payment of all debts due him from the
college. Cook’s ultimatum was curious because the trustees’ debt to him —for
most of the building material used to construct the college — was less than his
debt to them in the form of an unpaid subscription pledge. The trustees found Cook’s
offer unacceptable and the question of ownership remained unsettled. Cook did not
resign from the board, but did remain angry with Amos Brown, whom he held
responsible for the trustees’ demand for him to relinquish title to the
college’s land and building. Cook wanted Brown removed from the presidency. At
first he pressured Brown indirectly by demanding a full accounting of the
president’s expenses in Washington and, later, by demanding that Brown pay rent
on a house that Cook owned and allowed the college to use as a home for its
president. Cook interfered with Brown’s attempts to recruit a faculty. In one
case Cook not only made an appointment on his own, but also failed to inform
Brown about it. Cook sent the college’s comptroller, instead of its president,
on an important mission to Albany. On his part, Brown resented Cook’s intrusion
into areas in which he thought that Cook was incompetent. He clearly was
distressed by Cook’s refusal to aid the college in meeting the terms of the
legislation by which it could receive the proceeds of the land grant.
As Cook and Brown quarreled, other members of the board of
trustees became more and more active in the day-to-day business of the college.
Despite the problems of divided leadership, The People’s College opened in the
spring of 1864. Although opened, the College still was not able to comply with
the terms of the state’s land grant legislation.
In the summer of 1864, the dispute between Charles Cook and Amos
Brown came to a head and a resolution calling for Brown’s dismissal was
introduced to the trustees. The trustees supported the resolution. Some
trustees did so because they were associates of Cook. Others did so because
they disagreed with Brown’s new plans for the college. Brown, then, was opposed
by old and new trustees alike. In August, 1864 Amos Brown and The People’s
College severed their relationship. The parting was not amicable.
Cornell
University and the New York Land Grant
A |
mos Brown
remained in Havana and watched the progress of The People’s College. Other
persons were watching the college, too. On February 4, 1865, a newly elected
member of the state’s Senate introduced a motion to require the Board of
Regents to advise the Senate “whether or not… [The People’s College] is, or
within the time specified . . . is likely to be, in a condition to avail itself
of the [land grant] fund” (Cornell University, 1883, p. 10). The Senator who
introduced the resolution was Andrew D. White. He and another newly elected
Senator, Ezra Cornell, had been keeping a close eye on The People’s College and
particularly on Charles Cook, on whom they believed, correctly, the college’s
success depended.
White had a grand plan for an American university equivalent to
Oxford and Cambridge. Cornell had a long-standing interest in agricultural
education. He had been a
trustee of
the defunct State Agricultural College and had carefully studied the plans for
The People’s College. Initially White and Cornell had disagreed about how the
land grant fund should be used. Cornell had wanted to divide the land grant
fund between the State
Agricultural
College and The People’s College. White had adamantly insisted that the land
grant should not be dissipated by division, but should be used intact to
support a new university, for which his vision went well beyond either the
State Agricultural College or The People’s College.
Cornell was persuaded to White’s point of view and offered to add
$500,000 in addition to the proceeds of the land grant to found a new
university. Before initiating any action in the legislature, White and Cornell
attempted to persuade the trustees of The People’s College to relinquish their
claim to the land grant and pledge their support to the new university. Most of
the trustees refused even to discuss the idea with White and Cornell. Finally,
after a proposal was made to select some of the new university’s trustees from
the board of The People’s College, four of the college’s most influential
trustees agreed to support White and Cornell. The four trustees — Horace
Greeley, Erastus Brooks, Daniel Dickinson, and Edwin B. Morgan — had been
appointed to the college’s board by the People’s College Association and were
supporters of the original plans for the college. Charles Cook and his
associates on the board remained opposed to White and Cornell’s plans for a new
university.
There was a hidden hand at work in devising the proposal that
gained the support of the College’s trustees. Amos Brown had gone to work for
Ezra Cornell. It was Brown’s idea to appoint trustees from the college to the
board of the new university in order to deflate opposition to White and
Cornell’s plans. After legislation to revoke the land grant from The People’s
College and create Cornell University was introduced in February, 1865, Brown
continued to work personally for Ezra Cornell. Like Andrew White, Brown was
firm in insisting that the land grant fund should not be divided, but should be
used in its entirety to support a single great university. Brown’s plans for
The People’s College were more like White’s plans for Cornell University than
the Mechanics’ Mutual Protection and the People’s College Association’s plans.
W. H. Brewer once talked with Brown about his plans:
His [Brown’s] views were so broad; he was so enthusiastic and hopeful
that I thought him not merely optimistic, but visionary. He was aiming for so
great and broad an institution that I thought it positively visionary to even
hope for its realization. I argued with him that he could not expect to build
up a Heidleberg in Chemistry, a Berlin in Philosophy, a Harvard in Natural
History, a Yale in Agricultural Chemistry, a something equally brilliant in
Technology,… He thought otherwise. “Why not? Why not? Why not?” he repeated
over and over again.
Andrew White might have
said what Brown did; their views were much alike. It is not surprising, then,
that Brown could easily turn his support to White and Cornell. Not everyone was
sympathetic to Brown’s turn of allegiance. He was publicly accused of being
“selfish and vindictive” in betraying The People’s College. The
introduction of the bill to create Cornell University and strip The People’s
College of the land grant was, as Andrew White observed, “a signal for war”
(White, 1905, p. 300). And war it was. Every college in the state, except
Columbia, came forward to claim the benefit of the land grant fund. The battle
was waged in the newspapers and in the legislature, both on the floor and
behind closed doors. Some factions argued positively in favour of their own
interests while others simply attacked the Cornell proposal.
Amos Brown worked earnestly for the Cornell bill. An especially
strong obstacle to the bill’s being passed was the claim of Genesee College to
the land grant. The college was a Methodist school located in Lima. The
college’s claim was no better or different than that of any other college, but
it was supported by a large and powerful block, and, like The People’s College
and unlike the State Agricultural College had actually been built and was open.
Methodists throughout the state supported the college on the one hand because
it was a Methodist school and on the other hand because Cornell University
would be non-sectarian or, as they put it, “Godless.” Although there is some
contradictory evidence about the precise nature of the pact, (Beadie, 1994)
Ezra Cornell promised to pay $25,000 to the trustees of Genesee College if they would abandon their
claim to the land grant and withdraw their opposition to the Cornell bill. Amos
Brown was deeply involved in the negotiations that led to the agreement between
the college and Cornell. Although he was a Congregational clergyman, Brown was
well known and had many influential friends among Methodist leaders.
With the removal of the opposition of Genesee College, White and
Cornell were able to bring their bill forward to a favourable vote in the
legislature. Under the terms of the bill, The People’s College had 90 days in
which either to fulfill all of the terms of the bill that had assigned the
proceeds of the land grant to it or to deposit a sum of money ($185,000)
sufficient to enable it to fulfill the terms after 90 days had elapsed. The
college could do neither without Charles Cook’s support. He refused. On April
26, 1865, Amos Brown, who had maintained close contact with the college,
reported to Ezra Cornell:
Mr. Cook has disclosed
that he has given his last cent to The People’s College.
The term of study… is, as I understand, to close today, & the
Professors are to be
dispersed to seek their forage elsewhere. You will, as I
predicted, have an open sea.
Amos Brown
felt that he was due some reward from Cornell University because of the service
that he had rendered in connection with passage of the Agricultural College Act
and the bill to found the University. There is some evidence from which to
suppose that he thought that he should be named to the presidency of Cornell.
W. H. Brewer reported that Ezra Cornell privately asked him whether or not Amos
Brown should “be connected with the new University in a prominent position.”
Brewer told Cornell that, while he appreciated
Brown’s ability and contributions to education, he thought that Brown
“had personal peculiarities that would work serious friction in the starting of
a new university” (White, 1905). Although Ezra Cornell in the end nominated
Andrew White for the presidency of the university, he had previously told him
that he had one other candidate in mind. Amos Brown was the logical
alternative. Whether or not he desired the presidency or had any reason to
expect that he should receive it, Amos Brown definitely thought that he should
get something. In March 1866 Brown wrote to the board of trustees of Cornell
and asked for remuneration. The trustees acknowledged that Brown’s service to
the university had indeed been valuable, but refused to concede that he had a
just claim or, even if he did, that the board was empowered to honour it.
Horace Greeley and Erastus Brooks, formerly trustees of The People’s College,
then introduced a motion that called on Cornell University to employ Brown “in
some department where his abilities can be made use of ” (Board of Trustees of
Cornell University, 1940, p. 6). The motion was not carried.
Having failed to receive satisfaction from the trustees, Brown
took his appeal to Andrew White, to whom he complained that the action of
trustees had been “calculated to humble me”. He also made it clear to White
that his claim was based on his work for the Cornell bill and for the
Agricultural College Act, without which, Brown baldly contended, Cornell
University would not have been founded. To support the latter claim, Brown
produced all of the letters that the trustees of The People’s College had
procured when seeking the land grant for the College and added another from
Senator Ira Harris of New York. White discouraged a meeting between Brown and
himself and finally demurred altogether.
Brown next turned to Ezra Cornell
personally. He told Cornell that White had agreed that the Cornell bill would
not have been approved without his help. Cornell was not sympathetic to Brown’s
request for a financial reward. He argued that he had already paid Brown for
his services in accordance with an agreement that they had made when Brown
first began to work for him. With Cornell’s refusal, Brown abandoned his claim.
At the same time that Brown was negotiating with Andrew White and
Ezra Cornell, he learned that the Illinois Agricultural College was seeking a
president. Brown made several inquiries about the position and arranged to have
recommendations written in his behalf, but in the end was not offered the job.
Conclusion
A |
mos Brown
remained in Havana, where he preached in local churches and took an interest in
The People’s College, which was reopened briefly under the auspices of the
Masonic Order. He died there on August 17, 1874. In his lifetime he had worked
to build two academies, the New York State Agricultural College, The People’s
College, and Cornell University. In each case he made significant
contributions. While it probably is an exaggeration to say, as some of his
contemporaries did, that Amos Brown was the “father” of the Agricultural
College Act, it is quite reasonable to say that he deserves large credit for
the Act’s being passed and for promoting a tangible image of the type of
college that the Act would cause to be founded.
A particular impact of Brown’s lobbying and of the plans for The
People’s College was on the concept of higher education for what Justin Morrill
called the “mechanic arts”. Morrill himself advanced only three arguments in
favour of the Agricultural College Act: public lands were being wastefully and
aimlessly given away, persons who received public lands should be educated in
their use, and the United States needed to keep pace with European advances in
agricultural and mechanical science.
Congressional debate, however, was not joined along the lines
offered by Morrill. In fact, considering the historical significance of the
Agricultural Education Act, Congress’ debates about it were ironically devoid
of educational consideration. What few references there were — Morrill’s own
comments not excluded — dealt almost exclusively with agricultural education
and public land policy. The exception was The People’s College’s origin in the
Mechanic’s Mutual Protection, which effectively defined who mechanics, as an
interest group, were, and the specific plan for the college which described how
a college for mechanics would be organized and run.
What else can we learn from Amos Brown’s career? His experience at
The People’s College reveals a tension in the movement to found an alternative
for farmers and mechanics to the traditional liberal arts college. On the one
hand, Brown, as president of The People’s College, was under pressure from
persons who were interested primarily in founding a college devoted exclusively
to agricultural and mechanical education, with practical instruction as an
integral part of the course of study. On the other hand, Brown was personally
disposed to the classical collegiate course to which he thought agricultural
and mechanical courses should be added tangentially. There existed as well a
tension between educational reformers — whether they preferred a radical change
like The People’s College or an amendment of the existing form like Brown’s or
White’s plans — and local boosters, like Charles Cook, who wanted a college —
any college — for the commercial benefits and civic pride that it would
engender.
The competition among cities and towns to win the location of The
People’s College strengthens the thesis that there was much local support for
colleges before 1860 (Grandillo, 1997; Potts, 1997). The competition also
indicates a tension between educators and local boosters. Many of the College’s
local supporters, including its primary benefactor and Amos Brown’s initial
patron, were not especially interested in agricultural and mechanical
education. Instead, they were interested mainly in commercial advantage.
Whatever The People’s College’s purpose or Amos Brown’s interest in promoting
it, the case for the college as advanced by Brown was almost exclusively
educational. To Brown and most, but not all, of the supporters of the College,
educational reform was an end in itself.
Regardless of the rate at which the land grant college movement
evolved, or at which institutions the land grant model was actually deployed,
it is clear that the political and economic authors of the Agricultural College
Act had at best a cloudy educational vision. When the members of Congress were
called on to vote in support of the act, and when state legislators were
subsequently asked to designate the institutions that were to receive the land
grants, the educational definition on which they relied was The People’s
College, as promoted by Amos Brown. Historical credit for that should go to
him.
As for Justin Morrill, his role and contribution seem to have been
mainly financial and political. When asked directly about his role, Morrill
usually and carefully insisted that he had drafted the Agricultural College Act
on his own, but he rarely implied more than that, perhaps recalling that the
act said very little about education. An examination of Morrill’s larger career
demonstrates that he was unusually competent in matters of public finance. Even
if the Agricultural College Act had never been introduced, Morrill would
deserve a prominent place in American history as the financial architect of the
Federal government’s military effort in the Civil
War.
The land grants themselves, as a financial device, need to be put
in a larger context. Within the span of about one year, the U. S. federal
government made 532 million acres of public land available for three purposes:
settlement (the Homestead Act), railway development, and higher education. Of
the 532 million acres, only 17 million, barely three per cent, were for higher
education under the Agricultural College Act. Since these were not the first
grants for education in the United States, and were comparatively small in
relation to overall land policy, one might reasonably ask why they were notable
aside from the specific and novel purposes of the Agricultural College Act.
In practical effect the arrangement was very clever. By the
mid-1800s federally held public lands were very unevenly distributed. Some states
neither held nor could claim any at all. Yet the educational concept of the
Agricultural College Act was national. The proceeds of the sale of the land
grant scrip were in effect spent by the states. Thus a federal asset was
converted with visible equity to a state asset for a federal objective. While
such matching arrangements became common in the next century, they were unusual
— in fact, ingenious — at the time, especially in terms of maintaining a
precarious balance between state’s rights and the Constitutional prerogatives
of the federal government.
As for Jonathan Baldwin Turner, one of the reputed fathers of the
Act, a final note from a series of discussions in 1871 might explain his role.
One might aver, as some have, that what Turner called the “industrial
university” really meant what later came to be understood as the “mechanic
arts” in the Agricultural College Act. Neither of the sponsors of the bill ever
acknowledged such a role on Turner’s part. In 1871 the Friends of Agricultural
Education met in convention in Chicago under the auspices of the Illinois
Industrial University. On the agenda, despite the name of the group, was a
review of the progress of land grant colleges in introducing programs in the
mechanic arts. A number of speakers took pains to distinguish the introduction
of courses of study in the mechanic arts — which at the time virtually no land
grant institution had done — from expanding accessibility to higher education
for the “industrial classes” which was a quite different although apparently
similar concept (Hatch, 1967b). This was not the first use of either the
concept or the phrase. Turner himself had used it in 1851 when he called for a
“University for the Industrial Classes.” More significantly in terms of the
origin of the mechanic arts in the Agricultural College Act, Turner was still
referring to the “industrial classes” nearly ten years after the bill was
passed. Also in 1871, at the laying of the cornerstone of the Illinois
Industrial University, Turner said that it really didn’t make any difference
that only a very small number of students in land grant institutions actually
graduated in “industrial pursuits.” According to Hatch, Turner maintained that
the main point, he said, was that the “industrial classes” should have the
opportunity to
attend
university. This, of course, was the same point that the representatives of the
land
grant
colleges were making at about the same time at the Convention of the Friends of
Agricultural
Education. Thus Jonathan Baldwin Turner’s role was the promotion and perhaps
crystallization of the social objective of expanded access to college and
university study, which has since become part of the warp and woof of American
higher education. But it would be hard to give Turner credit for the
Agricultural College Act itself, or for its passage.
Of the claimants to the authorship of the land grant college idea,
Amos Brown’s case is strongest in terms of giving educational expression to the
concept of what a land grant college should be. He did this as the principal
lobbyist for the legislation in 1857 and again in 1862, and as the founding
president of a college — The People’s College — which actually embodied the
concept.
To summarize and conclude with the metaphor of parenthood, it
would not be correct to describe Amos Brown as the natural parent of the land
grant college. It would, however, be very reasonable to describe Brown as the
powerful, loyal, and experienced adoptive parent of The People’s College ideal,
the Agricultural College Act, and the land grant college concept that they
together engendered.
Brown did not invent the idea of The People’s College. It had its
own, virtually unique, grass roots origin in organized labour. But Brown
developed the idea, gave it tangible meaning, and saw it through to maturity as
the educational embodiment of the Agricultural College Act. Without his
organizational skill and experience, the college would not have been built and
a faculty recruited for it. In the absence of his extremely effective and
influential lobbying in Washington and Albany, the college would never have
received the land grant designation and the educational stature — albeit brief
— that went along with it.
To the extent that the Agricultural College Act was taken to have
a firm educational purpose at the time of its passage, its educational meaning
was defined by Brown and The People’s College. Brown played a pivotal political
role as well. After the first bill was vetoed and civil war had broken out,
Justin Morrill did not want to reintroduce the legislation. It was Brown who
devised the plan to redirect the bill to Benjamin Wade in the Senate, and who
took full responsibility for the lobbying and maneuvering necessary for its
ultimate approval. So in this sense too Amos Brown was the act’s adoptive
parent, taking over from Justin Morrill when Morrill turned his attention
elsewhere. Wade, for his part, seemed to have appreciated the bill’s political
importance but not its educational significance (Thompson, 1926).
The question of parenthood can be taken one step further by asking
whether or not
either child
— The People’s College or the Agricultural College Act — could have survived
were it not for its adoption by Amos Brown.
In the case of The People’s College the answer is quite clear. The
trustees of the college were correct when they appointed Brown. The college
desperately needed a leader with organizational skill, academic experience, and
a talent for lobbying and promotion. Charles Cook, the college’s principal
benefactor, had none of these attributes, and in the end was more a liability
than an asset. While the trustees were relatively benign, none of them could
have played the roles that Brown did, nor did any of them aspire to. This
should not be surprising given the typical membership of the Mechanics’ Mutual
Protection.
The People’s College didn’t last long after the New York land
grant was redirected to Cornell University. But that it lasted as long as it
did, and achieved considerable prominence in its short life, are attributable
almost entirely to Brown. In his absence the college probably would not have
progressed beyond the stage of the Mechanics’ Mutual Protection’s prospectus,
and would have languished as the New York State Agricultural College did.
In regard to the Agricultural College Act and the land grant
college model the answer to the question about survival is less
straightforward. By 1862 Justin Morrill had indeed given up on the bill and was
satisfied to pass the torch of leadership to Amos Brown and Benjamin Wade. With
Morrill’s and Wade’s blessings Brown took it up, and in doing so filled the
vacuum of the bill’s educational meaning and secured the necessary political
support for the bill.
But while the Agricultural College Act’s path to approval would
probably have been longer and rockier without Amos Brown’s leadership, it would
have been approved sooner or later, particularly once its states’ rights
opponents were no longer present to vote against it, once the then president
had no strong compunction about vetoing it. Moreover, westward expansion would
have continued to force the question of proper disposition and management of
federal lands.
Notes
The
political meaning of the Agricultural College Act and the motives of its
supporters and opponents have been interpreted in different ways. The
significant points of view are represented in these articles: A.G. Bogue,
“Senators, Sectionalism, and the ‘Western’ Measures of the Republican Party,”
in David M. Ellis, ed., The Frontier in American Development, (Cornell
University Press, Ithaca, 1969), pp.20-46; Paul W. Gates, “Western Opposition
to the Agricultural College Act, “Indiana Magazine of History, Vol. 37, No. 2
(June 1941), pp.103-136; George Rainsford, Congress and Higher Education, (The
University of Tennessee Press, Knoxville, 1972), chapter six; and Earle D.
Ross, “The Land-Grant College: A Democratic Adaptation,” Agricultural History,
Vol. 15, No. 1 (January 1941), pp.26-40.
Questions
about the authorship of the Agricultural College Act were first raised in 1907
by Eugene Davenport’s “History of Collegiate Education in Agricultural,”
Proceedings of the Society for the Promotion of Agricultural Science, 1909,
pp.43-53. Further questions were raised by Liberty Hyde Bailey, ed., Cyclopedia
of American Agriculture, (Macmillan, New York, 1909), Vol. IV, p.409; and
Edmund J. James, The Origins of the Land Grant of 1862 (The so-called Morrill
Act) and Some Accounts of its Author, Jonathan B. Turner, (University of
Illinois, Urbana, 1910).
For a
summary of the debate, see Earle D. Ross, “The ‘Father’ of the Land-Grant
College,” Agricultural History, Vol. 12, No. 2 (April 1938), pp.151-186.
Quarterly,14,13-38.1997.
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Additional
Archival Resources:
Bramble
Family Papers, Cornell University
William A.
Brewer Papers, Yale University
Ezra Cornell
Papers, Cornell University
Andrew White
Papers, Cornell University