The Hollins campus suited Margaret’s desire to be physically active in the outdoors. The school’s buildings were nestled into rolling hills against beautiful mountains. Carvin Creek ran alongside the campus, and a stream meandered through ancient willows and oak trees. Margaret loved how each season brought changes to the valley. Colorful fall leaves gave way to quiet blankets of snow. Spring brought flocks of robins, bursts of cherry blossoms, and luminous greens of new leaves. She waded in the creeks, noted the arrival of different birds to the campus, and could watch the sun set on the shimmering trees of Tinker Mountain from her dorm window.
She loved the school’s many traditions and that her mother often came to campus to share them with her. The school was initially a coeducational seminary but in 1852 became the first chartered school for girls in Virginia. Charles Lewis Cocke was principal of the seminary and, when faced with overcrowding, saw a golden opportunity. He had long believed in the importance of educating women even though many believed that to be futile, if not dangerous. Charles thought a better society could only be attained through providing young women the same academic opportunities as young men—and holding them to the same high standards of achievement. He was considered a forward thinker, even if grace and refinement were part of the school’s stated educational requirements when Margaret’s mother was a student in the School of Elocution and Physical Culture. By the time Margaret arrived at Hollins, they offered a variety of degrees in the sciences and arts. Her science grades were too low for her to receive certification as a landscape gardener, so in her junior year, she entered the English literature and psychology programs.
Margaret had come to Hollins with every intention of being an excellent student, but her enthusiasm faded after her first semester, when she failed freshman English. She was an avid reader, and she loved to write, but having learned punctuation in the minimalist French style, she received low grades from her English professor. He had refused to accept her French-based education as an excuse for poor grammar, punctuation, or spelling. She took that class again the next year and learned to follow his rules for writing. Proper spelling still eluded her, but she made passing grades.
At the end of her junior year, Margaret’s inability to balance her schoolwork and social life almost brought her college days to an end when she failed chemistry. As was proper, she wrote a letter to the dean withdrawing from the school. Margaret got lucky, though. The Depression had taken a toll on the school’s attendance, so the dean was more lenient than she might have been in previous years. Margaret was assured that her academic issues could be corrected if she took chemistry again in her senior year. The dean urged her to direct her attention to her schoolwork instead of sports. She suggested Margaret seek assistance from her teachers if her grades slipped again. Most of the professors were eager to help the bubbly girl, even if she valued her popularity more than her grade point average. One professor in particular recognized Margaret’s creative potential. Dr. Marguerite Hearsey, another English professor, encouraged Margaret to polish her writing skills. She assured Margaret that her depth of literary knowledge and vivid imagination could take her far as a writer, but she needed to be more disciplined with her grammar. Dr. Hearsey assigned Margaret articles to write for the yearbook and alumnae quarterly—tasks the young student relished. Margaret loved seeing her words in print. She never gave up field hockey or the riding club, but she did learn to work more efficiently, and her grades improved.
*
She spent most of the summer between her junior and senior years in Kentucky. She’d gone there hoping to see Morrie. He and Kitty had broken up years before, and in Margaret’s sophomore year, he enrolled at nearby University of Virginia. She took the train to Charlottesville a few times to see him, and by Christmas, she considered him to be her boyfriend. By the new year, though, he had suddenly ceased all communication with her, and she had no idea why. When she arrived at the Johnstons’ home in Kentucky, she found out he was engaged to be married to another girl. She was crushed but kept her spirits up through the summer party circuit. Her dance card was always quickly filled with eligible young men, and she soon met George Armistead. His family, like Margaret’s, was an early arrival to Virginia. George’s namesake was a relative who commissioned a garrison flag that could be seen from great distances at Baltimore’s Fort McHenry during the War of 1812. When the fort was attacked, he successfully commanded the defense of the fort through the British assault. As the British ships retreated, Major Armistead ordered the massive flag raised. Eight miles away, Francis Scott Key saw the flag and knew that the fort and Baltimore, and thus the nation, had been saved. The sight inspired Key to write a poem depicting that moment, “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
George Armistead was dashingly handsome. With his blond hair and bright blue eyes, he and Margaret made a striking couple. He went to college in Texas, but they had plans to meet at school breaks. In between, letters sufficed, and by the new year, they were engaged.
*
A formal engagement party was planned in Kentucky over their spring breaks. Margaret’s family traveled from New York and George’s from Texas to toast the couple. However, soon after arriving in Kentucky, Margaret told George that she could never marry him. She told him she loved him, but she longed for something more than being a cattle rancher’s wife. She didn’t tell him that she knew he was exactly the kind of man her father wanted her to marry and that she had overheard the two of them sharing a laugh over how to control her. She had thought George would stand up to her father instead of colluding with him. That moment showed her who George really was. When she returned to Hollins, she burned all his letters.
*
The week of her graduation from Hollins, Margaret competed in the school’s final equestrian event of the year, hoping to impress her mother and sister who were part of the nearly one hundred spectators. The crowd was larger than normal due to the upcoming commencement. Some spectators sat on the hoods of their parked cars, while others leaned against the fence.
Margaret sat erect in the saddle, heels down in the stirrups and hands poised. A press of her legs was all it took to urge her horse through the open gate and into the riding ring. The larger pieces of charcoal in the ashy ring crunched underneath her horse’s hooves as she led him around the rail to prepare for the first jump.