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A Pre-History of Wesleyan by Daniel Dylan Young |
Captain Partridge--ever heard of him? Perhaps if you’re into drama, you’ve been involved in the Wesleyan club bearing his name. Perhaps if you’re a tour guide here, you might have heard a couple torrid stories about his relationship to the history of Wesleyan. But most Wesleyan students haven’t heard the story of Captain Partridge and his "American Literary, Scientific and Military Academy." This is a tragedy to be rectified.
Born in Preston, Connecticut in 1785, Alden Partridge--or "Old Pewt," as he was affectionately nicknamed--was a military man and mathematics/engineering whiz who managed to work his way from being a simple professor at West Point up to the positon of superintendent of the academy. It was at this high point, however, that the Captain’s life got a little sordid. As superintendent of West Point, Partridge fell under much scrutiny because of questionable ethical decisions, a tendency towards arbitrary actions, and a few flamboyant incidents such as arresting the entire faculty of West Point because he thought they were plotting against him and his being arrested himself for flagrantly disobeying an order originating with President James Monroe. As a result of these little problems, Captain Alden Patridge was court martialed, convicted of insubordination, and forced to resign from the army in 1818.
After this disgraceful exit from military life, Partridge puttered around, serving as an engineer on some surveys of the northeast boundary of the U.S. until, in his early 30’s, a little light bulb came on over his head. Partridge decided that a large standing army was actually a menace to the security of the United States and that the country should instead train a large, standing "citizen soldiery" (i.e., militia) in the art of war. Thinking he would be the best man to train such a group, he went on to form his own American Literary, Scientific and Military Academy in Norwich, Vermont. Beginning with just a few young cadets, Partridge set out teaching mathematics and engineering to this "citizen soldiery" of the future—and at least as far as the quality of his own classes were concerned, was highly praised for his efforts. In 1824, however, he was looking to expand, and it was at this point that real history was made (at least as far as Wesleyan students are concerned).
Middletown, Connecticut, a prosperous port (it was the biggest city in Connecticut in 1824) full of the hustle and bustle of artisans and merchants doing extensive international trade with the West Indies and other exotic lands, hoped to expand its cultural and economic life by bringing an institution of higher learning in to its fold. Despite the fact that Middletown had bid thousands of dollars and several acres more of land towards the acquiring of Washington College (later Trinity College) from some Connecticut ministers a year earlier, the institution had been built in Hartford instead, leaving Middletown searching. When rumors floated in about Partridge’s intentions, they jumped on the idea.
On October 20, 1824 a parade of light artillery, local milita members, and Freemasons (they’re everywhere! everywhere!) marched through Middletown and up the hill to a lot adjoining High Street, where they lay the cornerstone of the building that would eventually be known as South College. The stockholders (shares went for $30 a piece) gained a charter from the Connecticut General Assembly in May 1825, and on August 22 Captain Partride’s new Institute opened its doors.
Set on thirteen acres of land adjoining High Street, the Institute originally consisted of four structures: a brownstone dormitory (later North College), a brownstone Lyceum with arsenal and laboratory in the basement (South College), and two guardhouses set roughly opposite the current location of the Psi Upsilon building which challenged anyone attempting to enter or leave the securely fenced and patroled property. The first year’s faculty consisted of nineteen professors and the student body was a corps of 200 cadets. Things went well at the Institue for a couple of years--enrollment expanded, Middletown experienced further economic bloom. Partridge continued teaching excellent mathematics and engineering courses, and instituted his new idea of "practice marches." During these marches the entire student body would pack up and head to the White Mountains, New York City, Niagara Falls, Washington D.C. and many other eastern sites. Along the way they would stop at canals, railroads, bridges, mines, fortifications or any other structures of interest along the path in order for the students to inspect their construction and Partridge to lecture about them.
But it didn’t take long for some problems to become evident. Local economic resources for the Institute were exhausted and the academy itself still didn’t make enough profit to afford the construction of a real library, and attempts to petition for federal aid were refused. Partridge frequently left the institute to go promote satellite academies based on his ideas about military education--with each of these departures discipline at the academy would decline. When Anne Royall, a famous author of travel books at the time, visited in 1828 she was apalled and went on to describe it in her Black Book as a place filled with undisciplined "ruffians," living "knee-deep in dirt" and dismissed Partridge as "one of the most consummate clowns that ever undertook to keep a school." Soon after this scathing criciticsm was printed, Partridge re-opened his Norwich academy, ostensibly as a primary school to prepare students for the Middletown institution. But stockholders got nervous and a few months after that the faculty re-organized to deprive Partridge of much of his power. By late fall of 1828, it was apparent to everyone invovled that the academy’s days were numbered.
Partridge soon gave up on the enterprise and retreated to Vermont, leaving the stockholders to sell the whole enterprise over to an energetic group of Methodists who were beginning to flourish in the area, some of them bearing names like Clark and Fisk. And the rest, as they say, is history...
Now why is it, you might ask, that the only tribute left to "Old Pewt" is the naming of a drama club after him? Good question. Most likely, it was the result of a desire on the part of the Wesleyan Methodists to distance themselves as much as possible from those "ruffians" living "knee-deep in dirt" and from the whole technical, militaristic viewpoint that Partridge advanced. Or perhaps there is some truth to those rumours about unruly students at the academy escaping over the fence and going on weekend long rampages in the Middletown area. Now that this has been printed, Partridge’s obscurity is somewhat lessened and I’m sure that the facts of Alden Partridge’s life will live on in your memory for many years, bringing some kind of tribute to this flamboyant man.