Talk to the
Chi Omega Fraternity
Gladys Hall
Coates
At the
Eleusian Banquet
25 March 1974
When
I recall the names of the women whom you have honored in the past with the Chi
Omega Distinguished Service Award, I am reminded on the present occasion of the
story told of Marcus Cato, who, according to Plutarch, said that he would
rather have men wonder why he had no statue erected in his honor than wonder
why he had!
Let
me assure you that that sentiment is very much mine tonight. But unworthy as I
feel I am to receive the honor you have just bestowed, I do not have the will
to turn away. I am deeply grateful for the thought that prompted your beautiful
gesture, and I can only hope that it will give me the grace to live up to the
generous things you have said.
In
thinking of what to talk about this evening, it first occurred to me to bring
you some of my remembrances as I saw the Institute of Government develop
through the years, since for so long a time the building of the Institute was
the main thrust of my husband's life, and of mine also. And, again, I am
reminded of a saying from the classics--"These things I saw and of some of
them I was a part." But that is a long story stretching through something
over forty years, and the time that it would take to recount the trials and
tribulations and some triumphs would exhaust your time and patience.
And
so, if you will bear with me, I should like to recall a few highlights from a
piece of research that I undertook some years ago on the development of student
government in the University of North Carolina. And since your government on
campus today is derived from earlier days, perhaps it will be of interest to
you to ". . . look to the rock from whence ye are hewn. . . "
To
be truthful, I had to be persuaded to undertake this work. My husband, who
thought of student government as a real branch of government, had started some
of his law students on the project, and promised that if I would take over
their work I could complete the job in little more than two weeks. Knowing his
tendency to exaggerate for emphasis, I did not take this promise too seriously.
Still, I did not expect those two weeks to lengthen into five years and more!
There
were several reasons for this lengthened time. First, I was enthralled as the history
of this great university unrolled before my eye in her superb records.
Second,
I soon realized that many facets of the University and of student life were
being revealed--far beyond the original reason for my research.
Third,
I was not only fascinated with the work but it became a sort of refuge for me.
For it was during the building of the Institute of Government, and in the
middle of the Great Depression, of which you have all heard even if you did not
experience it. Looking back, I realize now that I often forgot somewhat the
trials and troubles we were undergoing by losing myself, or, rather, finding
myself, in the records.
My
research led first to the trustee and faculty minutes beginning the latter part
of the 18th century; then the files of the University Magazine
beginning in the 1840s; the files of the Tar Heel beginning in the 1890s;
together with many diaries and letters of the same periods; and not to forget
the Yackety-Yack and its forerunner, the Hellenian; and also the comic magazines!
It
seemed that no sooner had I finished one set of records than I would come upon
another that simply could not be ignored. The most remarkable records of all,
to me, were the minutes of the Dialectic and Philanthropic Literary Societies,
or the Di and Phi, as they came to be known affectionately through the years.
And what records they are! As you know, the University opened its doors in
1795, and the Societies were founded the same year. Their history, written in
their minutes, in great volumes is one of the finest student records of our
country; and tonight I want to talk briefly about some activities of those once
great organizations.
I
think it is not too strong a statement to make when I say that for the students
the Societies were everything on campus in the early years of the University,
and their influence continued throughout the last century and well into the
present one. Their activities were quite varied. One of their main purposes was
for the training in public speaking and debate that they afforded. One can
trace American history by their very topics for debate. They were arguing the
political questions of their day, often with strength and skill, just as
students do today. And I may say that whenever I see programs on television in
which the Oxford and Cambridge Unions are featured, and see students of those
institutions presiding and speaking with such grace and power, I think of what
a heritage we had on this campus.
It
is worthy to note that Society debates, speeches, and compositions formed the
only training in English composition that early students received, for there
was no department of English as such in the University then; nor was there a
department of history at first.
Of
course, they had to have research materials and sources, and these they found
for the most part in their remarkable libraries which they built over the years
and in which they took a just pride, rivaling each other in the acquisition of
books and magazines. They seem not to have been provincial in their tastes for
subscriptions to magazines show such domestic and foreign periodicals as the
London and Westminster Review, the Edinburgh Review, and the London Quarterly,
and the New York Review, and the North American Review, and others of almost
equal importance. They were critical of the selection of their books.
"Indeed we would do well," wrote on student, "to secure a copy
of every historical document in the world, before we purchase a seventy-five
dollar copy of Shakespeare simply to sit in princely style upon our shelves and
show its pretty binding." Appearance ranked high with them, however, and
they spent substantial sums at various times in gilding the edges of their
volumes!
They
taxed themselves for books and solicited their alumni for books and money with
which to buy books. Their libraries grew from around 2,000 volumes in 1812 to
6,000 by 1835, to 10,000 by 1854, and a great increase to 16,000 by 1858, when
the University was reaching its peak in enrollment approaching 500 students
before the War Between the States took its toll.
The
Di and Phi libraries became the foundation of the University's splendid library
of today. It took considerable diplomacy to reach agreement so that their
libraries and that of the University could be united, for there was intense
pride of possession in each Society. Concessions were made to bring about the
union so much needed and desired. At first the Di volumes were placed on the
south side of the library and the Phi volumes on the north, with the
University's meager volumes distributed between them. Finally the Societies
themselves realized this inconvenience and voted a real union and rearrangement
of the books according to subject, author, etc.
The
University recognized its great indebtedness to the Societies, and the official
title of the joint library became "The Library of the University of North
Carolina, Endowed by the Dialectic and Philanthropic Literary Societies,"
and you will find this legend in many a University volume today.
Another
Society activity was the collection of portraits of their distinguished alumni
and other Americans. I shall never forget the first visit I ever made to a
Society hall. I was completely unprepared for what I saw on its walls and I was
astonished. The great past of the Societies loomed before me at the sight of
the many portraits hanging there. I knew nothing of their records then nor
could I faintly suspect that ten years later I would undertake research in
them. However, when I did, I soon realized that the collection of portraits was
one of the most significant contributions the Societies made to the University,
for often the portraits were painted by some of the great names in American
art. The portraits of a President of the United States, James K. Polk, and that
of his Secretary of the Navy, John Y. Mason, were painted by Thomas Sully, the
most celebrated artist of his day. The President records the fact in his diary
and even states precisely where the sittings took place--"the red parlor
above stairs in the President's house."
Polk
was a member of the Di and Mason of the Phi, and the portraits were painted in
1847 just before the two statesmen came to Chapel Hill to attend the
Commencement of that year.
We
have been talking of Society libraries and portraits, and it might be appropriate
at this point to describe their setting. A letter from the Di Society in the
1820's to its alumni soliciting funds for building a larger hall shows the
pride members took in their halls. I quote a paragraph:
. . .we now
have an extensive library believed to be equal to any in the Southern States--a
Hall of respectable dimensions--rich Damask Curtains, from the looms of France
are suspended from window arches--the floor is spread with neat carpeting--from
the walls hang portraits of various state worthies, like guardian genii of the
place, looking with complacency on the efforts of the young hope of the state .
. .
. . . should we succeed in rearing a Hall of
suitable size and proportions, we should not only expect to see a rapid
addition to our present number of volumes, but our walls covered with
portraits, and our niches filled with busts of North Carolina's distinguished
sons.
Their dreams were realized in succeeding years for
in 1860, the high tide of University affluence before the Civil War, we find
the combined Societies ordering 420 pivoted chairs upholstered in scarlet
velvet as a cost of $3,540.
Unquestionably, the greatest
contribution that the Societies made to the University was the unique one of
student government that began in their halls and which they bequeathed to the
campus of today. It was far from perfect, and students were sometimes unruly
and at war with the faculty. But they were learning to govern themselves within
Society, and this was more often than not reflected in their conduct outside.
The Di had its Censor Morum
and the Phi its Supervisor, both elected for set terms, and these officers with
their councils reported regularly in Society meetings on the behavior of
members.
Society discipline is
illustrated in the following excerpt from the Di papers. I quote:
The Censor Morum of the Dialectic Society
together with the members generally has viewed with pain and mortification the
many improprieties which for a length of time have marked the course of [Member
X] in Society. It could not but be a source of regret to the House that an
individual who possesses talents, that under proper guidance would confer honor
upon their possessor and lasting benefit upon the community, should persevere
in a line of conduct which evinces a total disregard of the laws and statutory
regulations of Society and all decorums of behavior. And yet Members of
Society, unwilling to deprive [Mr. X] of these opportunities for improvement
which they prize so highly themselves, reflecting upon their own fallible
nature, and hoping that reflection would beget repentance have forborne until
his reformation has become almost hopeless and longer forbearance
pusillanimity.
I therefore impeach the said [Member x] for
the following offences. To wit, on the night of the sixth of February while the
Dialectic Society was in session the said [x] arose in his seat, and in an
angry and loud ton of voice said to the president in the hearing of the House.
"You are a God damned rascal," thereby grossly insulting that officer
and through him the members of the Society, whose representative he is. And the
said [x] did on the same night in the presence of the House charge [Mr. Y], a
member of Society, with telling a lie. For which two specified offenses, I do
by virtue of m office as Censor Morum of the Dialectic Society impeach said [x]
at Chapel Hill this 13th day of February AD 1833.
Whether the offending member was convicted or not,
it seems that the rhetoric alone of the Censor Morum should have effected
complete reformation!
At this point I cannot resist telling you of an
incident from the Phi records. I recall that for a day or so I had been reading
some rather dull minutes when suddenly this priceless item flashed across the
page.
In 1848, the Phi Supervisor reported:
We were informed to our shame and sorrow from
a reliable source that on Thursday last a Badge of the Philanthropic Society
was seen attached to a woman of disreputable character. [If] anything Fellow
Members can degrade a man[,] can bring discredit upon Society it is utter
disregard of what Badges were intended for. Can you behold with untinged cheek
our Motto upon such prostitute wretches [?] Virtue, Liberty, and Science.
Virtue upon one whose whole life has been spent in entrapping virtue. Liberty
upon one who has ever been the slave of passion. Science upon one whose only
science is the art of alluring unhappy admirers. If authers [sic] of this
disgrace come under the eyes of your Supervisor and Council, you may well rest
assured they shall suffer to the extent of the law.
It was said by an early faculty member that anyone
who had ever lived in Chapel hill and left to go elsewhere always felt that he
had left Arcadia. I must confess I was distressed to learn that there was a
serpent in the Garden of Eden, or Arcadia, or The Southern Part of Heaven--but
so it seems!
Rivalry between the Societies was proverbial. Though
students from the eastern part of the state usually joined the Phi and those
from the western part the Di, there were enough out-of-state students and
doubtful natives to arouse keen competition for members. Rival efforts for
distinguished honorary members were particularly strong. The Phi's had early
been able to boast of a Vice President of the United States, William R King,
among their alumni. The Di's, with the election of one of theirs, James K.
Polk, to the presidency, reached the pinnacle of their ambitions.
The Societies competed with each other in every way
they could think of--the finest halls and furnishings, the largest libraries
with the most elegant editions, the greatest number of portraits and so on.
They even competed in tombstones--believe it or not! In the early days when
there was no embalming--and cremation hadn't been heard of except in the
classics!--a student who died in warm weather had to be buried in Chapel hill.
Once the Di Society lost a popular member, and voted to erect over his grave a
monument "on the plan of the one erected by the Phi of Italian Marble for
the sum of $225 . . ." The Phi
Society's next move was to vote the payment of a sum of $275 to a stonecutter
for another one of his models of Italian marble, specifying that it must be
eight feet high. The stonecutter assured the Society that he would "make
the stone at least that high."
If you walk through the old Chapel hill cemetery you
will find the Society graveyards, but I've never been sure of the rival
tombstones!
Sometimes the Societies came into open conflict, and
sometimes the Di's were called Copper-bellies and the Phi's, Lepers. Zeb Vance
in an amusing comment when invited to join a Society responded, "Phi! I'd
rather Di!"
Usually, however, they moved on a high level of
dignity, and constituted two of the solid pillars by which the University was
sustained.
The respect in which they were held by faculty and
alumni alike, as well as their dignity and independence, is illustrated in a
case concerning the management of funds for a commencement ball. A member while
acting as ball manager was accused of misappropriating funds, tried by his Society,
found guilty, and expelled--which was tantamount to expulsion from the
University. When he returned home his uncle wrote the President " . . .
demanding of the Society through him a copy of the proceedings of the case . .
. " President Swain, though he delivered the message, responded that such
a demand from the President would be regarded as an intrusion and at variance
with university custom. He suggested that an influential alumnus be asked to
write to the Society for the proceedings. In due course, a most respectful
letter was written by an alumnus of the Society requesting an account of the
proceedings, and the Society then voted to give a true and full account of the
trial, the charges brought against the member, the evidence by which they were
sustained, "and the stern necessity which compelled this body to expell
him in order to keep its beautiful and proud motto 'Love of Virtue and Science'
bright and untarnished."
The ball manager case was extremely interesting as I
was able to trace its passage through faculty, trustee, and society records as
well as the correspondence of the president-all fitting together perfectly.
For many years almost every University student was a
member of one Society or the other, and they were a powerful force on campus. I
have listed some of their activities but have had to omit others. For instance,
their financial assistance to many talented but needy students whom they called
beneficiaries. The records show them subscribing $250 to Princeton Theological
Seminary; printing four thousand copies of Judge Gaston's famous anti-slavery
speech, which he made in the University in 1832; contributing $116 to the
victims of the pestilence in Portsmouth and Norfolk; contributing $500 to the
Mount Vernon Association in 1859. And so on.
The influence of the Societies began to lessen with
the establishment of the professional schools of law, medicine, and pharmacy.
These often brought older men to the campus who saw no reason why they should
be forced to belong to either Society, or to participate in undergraduate
activities. Earlier, the coming of fraternities had tended to divide the
Societies themselves. Gradually with the growth of the student body and the
formation of their organizations which commanded the time and allegiance of
students, the Societies lost the great power they had once swayed. But well
into this century they were still active forums and training grounds for public
speaking and debate.
In bringing this talk to a close I should like to
pay a final tribute to them and quote from one of the most illustrious of
University alumni, William Rufus King. He served successively as Congressman
from north Carolina; Secretary of a legation to Russia; United States Senator
from Alabama for thirty years; Minister to France; and was elected Vice
President of the United States. In 1838, at the height of his career, he wrote
a letter to his society from which I shall quote one paragraph:
To sustain the honor and
advance the prosperity of [The Philanthropic Society], constituted at one
period of my life, the strongest feeling of my heart, and stimulated all my
energies. Time and diversified pursuits have weakened, but have not
extinguished that feeling. I still exult in the success of the white badge; nor
in the palmy days of Rome's power and grandeur did the "I am a Roman
Citizen" command more of confidence, and respect, than "I am a Member
of the philanthropic Society" does for me. It has been, is, and I trust,
ever will be a sure guarantee of honor and moral worth.