University of Virginia Library

I. The Presidency—The First Suggestion

In our preceding volumes, we referred incidentally
to the altered economic and social conditions which
prevailed in the Southern States during the long interval
between 1865–1904. The influence of these conditions
was perceptible in the life of that region many
years before the close of the nineteenth century; but it
was not until the end of the interval just mentioned that
this influence became overwhelmingly predominant; and
every twelve months which have passed since then have
only served to increase its controlling power. Unless
we bear in mind the existence of these all-pervading,
all-comprehending conditions,—which were unknown
in the South before the abolition of slavery, and which
did not begin to display their full force until many decades
thereafter had gone by,—we cannot thoroughly
gauge the external pressure, which, since 1904, has
moulded the destinies of the University of Virginia to as
great a degree from without as the scholastic work of
the institution has moulded those destinies from within.
With this background clearly understood, much that
would otherwise be obscure becomes plainly intelligible.

To recapitulate these conditions briefly: the first
characteristic of the change was the uprooting of the
old plantation system, and along with that system, the
social order which it had upheld,—this meant the practical
destruction of individualism as the chief factor of
civic polity, the consequent establishment of the public
school, and the spread of the community spirit. The
second feature was the rise of industrialism, as most
conspicuously illustrated in manufactures. This signified
the growth of towns, the creation of new social
forces, the expansion of more diversified interests, and
the demand for more cooperative effort in every line.

How did these influences at work in the altered
South most palpably affect the operations of the University?
They caused, first, the introduction of the Presidency;
and secondly, they made that institution the real
capstone of the public school system of the State. These
were not the only marked changes which those influences
brought about, but they were certainly the most salient.

One of the most impressive characteristics of a society
in which both the industrial spirit and the community
spirit have become predominant is an insistent demand
for efficiency. The creation of the Presidency did not
have its origin so much in the failure of the chairman
of the Faculty to perform the functions of his office
with a fair degree of success, as in the expectation
that a President, invested with larger powers, could execute
the same functions with far greater advantage to
the University. In the course of the inaugural ceremonies
on April 13, 1905, both Professor James M.
Page and Professor Francis H. Smith very correctly
pointed out that the condition of the institution was not
so lacking in prosperity that, for this reason alone, a new
form of government was imperative. The fundamental

reason for the change was to be found in that new
spirit of the South which refused to be satisfied with
less than the highest degree of efficiency that was attainable,
whether the organization to be piloted was
scholastic or industrial in its character.

The authorities of the University, yielding to practical
influences which pervaded the air itself, had arrived
at an attitude of mind that was ready to sacrifice
all the suggestions of conservative tradition, if the benefits
of a larger usefulness were likely to follow. In
allowing themselves to be governed by this general principle,
they were not unfaithful to the convictions which
had been expressed by Jefferson, the father of the University.
In a letter which he wrote to his most loyal
coadjutor, Cabell, in 1818, he made this pregnant remark:
"Nobody could advocate more strongly than
myself the right of every generation to legislate for itself,
and the advantages which each succeeding generation
has over the preceding one, from the constant progress
of science and the arts." Would he have approved
of the change to the Presidency under the influence of
the opinion thus announced? There can be no question
that, both in spirit and in practical operation, the chairmanship
of the Faculty, to be held in rotation by each
member of that body, was more democratic than the
office of the average modern college president, with its
more or less autocratic powers and broad personal
responsibilities; and yet the period in which this office
was established at the University of Virginia was
certainly, from some vital points of view, more democratic
in its tendencies than the period in which the
original chairmanship was erected.

Had Jefferson been living in 1904, and been still in
occupation of the rectorship, his sensitiveness to the

claims of new conditions would quite probably have led
him voluntarily to consent to the abolition of the old
form of administration, and the substitution of one less
democratic, it is true, but better fitted to meet the complicated
requirements of a more diversified society.
We have seen how firmly he opposed the appointment
of William Wirt to the Presidency, in spite of his profound
respect for the character and ability of that distinguished
advocate; and although he gracefully yielded
to the wishes of his colleagues, and actually himself
forwarded the invitation, there is small reason to think
that his original opinion had been modified. At that
time, there was no expectation of obtaining a more
efficient administration by the creation of the new
office. The only object in view was, by the additional
salary, to induce some competent member of the bar to
accept the new chair of law, which, so far, had remained
vacant, in spite of the indefatigable efforts to fill it.

Had the Presidency been considered previous to this
offer? The first reference to the office is found in a
letter of Francis Walker Gilmer, which bore the date
of August, 1824. He had been persistently urged by
Jefferson and other friends to become a candidate for
the professorship of law. He was now in Edinburgh,
in search of an incumbent for the chair of physics.
"If you would elect me President or something," he
wrote Chapman Johnson, in a spirit of half-jocularity,
"with the privilege of residing within three miles of the
Rotunda, it would be a great inducement to me to
accept." It is plain that he preferred the shady lawn
of Pen Park to the finest pavilion of the University,
even with the office of chief executive thrown in to give
increased dignity to such a roof.

Did this suggestion, dropped so casually into

Johnson's mind, turn his thoughts as a Visitor to this
form of administration for the new seat of culture?
Probably not for the first time. Among all those interested
in the welfare of the University, there was not
one more discerning or more astute than he,—a man of
genius, and also a man of practical affairs, one who had
learned much from books, but still more from intercourse
with mankind. He had, as a student, attended
the College of William and Mary at the time that it
was under the supervision of President Madison. It is
possible that his recollection of the successful management
of its interests by that wise and excellent prelate
had given him a deep impression of the advantages of
this kind of executive office for an institution of learning.
However that may be, the conviction which he
expressed on the subject in October, 1820, has quite as
much the ring of modernity as if it had been uttered in
1921. "The first of all things needed," he wrote
General Cocke, "is a president, not appointed by chance
or seniority, but appointed by the Visitors, and holding
his rank during their pleasure; not limited in his authority
to the powers of a moderator at the board of
professors, but clothed with the chief executive powers
of the government, and charged with the superintendence
of its discipline and police, and responsible for
their due administration. I hold this to be a matter of
the last importance to the good government of the
University."

Jefferson did not share these emphatic views, and
why? First, because, as we have already mentioned,
he favored in every department of administration,
whether it was scholastic or political, either a nice
distribution of functions, or, should that not be practicable,
an uniform rotation of powers. He had small

confidence in the continued integrity of any one man,
or any set of men, who exercised authority above control,
and for an indefinite period. The chairman of
the Faculty was elected annually,—it followed that he
would remain in office long enough to acquire valuable
knowledge and experience, but not long enough to learn
to consider himself supreme. Who can accurately
gauge how far Jefferson's antagonism to the appointment
of a President was colored by his recollection of
the fact, that, with hardly an exception, the presidents
of the colleges of those times were clergymen of the
several denominations? Probably, he carried about
with him the vision of old Bishop Madison lecturing to
his class in clerical garb, and putting on his lawn sleeves
on the occasion of every religious ceremony, and governing
students and professors alike in the spirit of a
shepherd gently yet firmly driving his docile flock.

Jefferson, in objecting to the substitution of the Presidency
for the chairmanship, did not, however, bring
forward his private convictions on the subject in justification,
but founded his opposition on technical grounds:
(1) the Board of Visitors, he said in substance, possessed
no legal right to appoint a President of the University;
(2) the institution was too poor to offer the additional
salary which the office would call for; (3) such an office
would be superfluous, as the chairman of the Faculty was
already performing the duties which were to be attached
to it.

The Board of Visitors had defined the powers of the
proposed President in a very modern spirit,—he was
to superintend the execution of the various laws made
for the government of the institution; he was to have
the right of control over the proctor, and all subordinate

agents, in the province of their official functions; he
was to summon the Faculty together whenever it seemed
to him, or to any two professors, that the University's
interests required such a meeting to be held; he was to
sit at the head of the table on such an occasion, with
the privilege of casting one vote as a member of the
Faculty, and a second vote in addition, should there be
a tie; and, finally, in the case of his absence or sickness,
his place was to be taken by a temporary chairman.

All these matured provisions were adopted with the
understanding that, should Wirt decline the invitation,
no substitute for him was to be looked for. "I voted
for the creation of the office of President," Joseph C.
Cabell remarked in a letter to Wirt himself, "with the
single view of giving it to you, with an increase of
salary. The creation of the office was for you alone."
And after hearing of Wirt's refusal, he wrote to his
brother, Governor Cabell, "I think that we had better
not urge the appointment of the President any further.
There is not now a member of the Faculty in whom
such an appointment can be prudently lodged. The
better way will be to give the necessary powers to the
chairman of the Faculty, and let that office continue
an annual one."

The impression had got abroad that the mere suggestion
of the Presidency would be hurtful to the welfare
of the University. "I am aware," wrote Wirt,—
who had declined the position, ostensibly on the ground
that he could not afford to give up the greater income
which he derived from his practice, but who was probably
more influenced by his knowledge of Jefferson's distaste
for the change,—"I am aware that the interests of
the institution require that this transaction should not

be made public, so far at least as the office created for
the occasion; and I will take care that it secures no
publicity from me."