University of Virginia Library

VII. Jefferson's Foresight for the College

One of the conspicuous qualities of Jefferson's manysided
mind was a far-sightedness that was at once minute
and imperialistic in its scope. His possession of this characteristic
to an extraordinary degree has come to light in
the course of our previous narrative, but perhaps it was

never more clearly evinced than in the name which he
gave to the new college, and in his choice of the men who
were to be coupled with himself in its organization and
development. Had he styled it Albemarle College, he
must have put aside all hope of ultimately obtaining a
larger support from the State than would be granted to
any other of the local academies. At the best, the most
sanguine expectation that he could nurse would be, that,
in time, it would rise to the respectable but not preeminent
rank of Washington and Hampden-Sidney Colleges.

Jefferson had a State university really in view, and as
such an institution could be only founded with the assistance
of the Commonwealth, he wisely decided to give
the new seat of learning the name that would approximate
the closest to the broad meaning of the words,
"University of Virginia"; in short, a name that, from
the very start, would lift it above the common level of
the academies and colleges already in existence, by clothing
it with the dignity of an institution rightly bidding,
in the opinion of all, for the patronage of the Virginians
in the mass. By such a name alone, the supreme convenience
of its situation, in those days of stage coach and
private carriage, would be indicated to every citizen in
the State who had a son to educate. But Jefferson looked
upon this last fact as important only because it would be
promotive of his main object. He anticipated that, when
the struggle for the site of the university, which he was
confident would be built in the future, began, the people
would have become accustomed to thinking of the college
at Charlottesville as the only really central seat of
learning underway in Virginia, and for that reason, if
for no other, possessing the prior claim to final conversion
into a great State institution. In other words, he reckoned

the value of the temporary success to Central College
chiefly in the light of its increasing the chance of the
College's transformation into the University, when the
hour was ripe for that long forecasted event.

There was a choleric debate going on, at this time, as
to the wisdom of removing the capital from Richmond to
some place which would better subserve the convenience
of the Virginian people by its more central situation.
The advocates of Staunton were active to uproariousness
in urging the superiority of her claim on this score; and
some of them even put out a plain threat, that, unless the
seat of administration was transferred to the west of
the Blue Ridge, those parts of the Commonwealth would
confederate to erect a new State. It is not improbable
that, in the midst of this scramble for preference, Jefferson
harbored the hope that Charlottesville would be
selected as the new metropolis; and had he been a member
of the General Assembly at this hour, and as young
as he was in 1776, he might have secured the simultaneous
establishment of both the capital and the university
on the banks of the Rivanna, in his native county. He
had shown how important he considered the association
of the two to be at the time that he was endeavoring to
broaden the course of study at the College of William and
Mary, when Williamsburg was still the seat of government.
Being fully aware, through his frequent correspondence
with Cabell, of the ferment in the General Assembly
over the question of removing the Capital, he
clearly foresaw the opposition which both Staunton and
Lexington would stir up to the erection of the university in
the eastern shadow of the Ridge,—Staunton because it
would interfere with the success of her campaign to acquire
the new seat of administration; and Lexington because
it would put an end to the realization of her ambition

to become the site of the proposed State institution.
In giving the name "Central College" to the new seat
of learning, Jefferson, in a spirit of quiet calculation, defied
the political aspirations of the one town, and the
academic aspirations of the other; and at the same time,
tacitly announced to the entire Commonwealth that, when
the hour should arrive for locating the university, he was
going to make a bid for the site on the score of this centrality,
to which he knew no rival could pretend.

But he was not satisfied with creating but one favorable
condition, at the very start, to sustain the claim
which he expected to bring forward just so soon as the
General Assembly should decide to establish a university:
his next step was to join with himself in the directorate
of his new college men of such preeminence in the social
and political affairs of the Commonwealth that their personal
distinction would be a powerful agency in winning
popular respect for it, thus influencing public sentiment in
support of his ultimate designs.

One of the baffling questions that offers itself in this
somewhat obscure initial stage of our history is: how did
Jefferson succeed, apparently so amicably,[10] in getting rid
of the very estimable board of trustees of Albemarle
Academy? That board embraced, as we have seen, fifteen
or sixteen citizens of the county who deservedly enjoyed
a high degree of repute in their own community.
Was no bad feeling aroused in them when the seat was
withdrawn so abruptly from under them? No reason for
their elimination that could have been submitted, however
sound from a practical point of view, could have been
entirely acceptable to their sensibilities. Were they too

numerous? This was a fault which could have been removed
by reduction. Were they lacking in influence?
To intimate that they were was perhaps too delicate an
assertion to make even by innuendo. The plausible and
soothing explanation that was given by Jefferson was
probably this: (1) that the original board was too large,
and that it was better to drop all its members than to
irritate the many by choosing only a few from its number
to serve on the second board: (2) that the only solid
hope of enlarging the scope of the new college was by
drawing together for its support a board which would
represent, not one county, but the entire State; and (3)
that the conversion of the College into a university, which
could only be accomplished by such means, would confer
both a sentimental and a material advantage on the people
of Albemarle county. It was, perhaps, this ulterior
scheme, well known to every member of the old board,
that softened the chagrin which must have been felt by
them as a body. In one alone did exasperation against
Jefferson show itself in action, and in that instance, this
may have been due to political and not to personal irritation.
John Kelly was the exception. When an offer was
made for his land near Charlottesville for the purpose
of using it as the site of the College, he seems to have
declined it with a brusqueness that was decidedly offensive;
and this conduct was emphasized by the fact that
he was conspicuous in the religious life of the community.

The Board of Visitors of Central College comprised
Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, James Monroe, David
Watson, Joseph Carrington Cabell, and John Hartwell
Cocke. Jefferson and Madison, besides their extraordinary
services in other lofty public positions, had
each occupied the Presidency during eight years in critical

times. Mr. Monroe was, at the hour of his appointment,
the actual incumbent of that exalted office. The careers
and the characters of these three distinguished statesmen
belong to the history of the whole country, and are too
well known to call for any description here. The reputations
of the other three members of the Board were
confined to Virginia. It is not necessary to dwell on
the character of David Watson, or the events of his life,
as he seems, either from indolence or ill health, to have
taken no part in the labors of the Board; and a substitute
was ultimately found for him, apparently with his full
approval. There was a wide gulf between his conduct
in this respect, whether voluntary or involuntary, and
that of the remaining members of the body, Cabell and
Cocke, Jefferson's two most faithful and persevering coadjutors,
—the one in assisting him to obtain the appropriations
from the General Assembly, which were indispensable
to the success of the University; the other, in
aiding him in its actual construction. The indefatigable
services of both to the institution continued during a period
of many years after the death of the "sachem," as
they admiringly called him in the privacy of their correspondence;
and they stand in its history second only to
him in the energy, devotion, and intelligence of their
unceasing efforts in its behalf. That history would not
be adequately treated without a full account of their careers
to show the reader the spirit and the calibre of the
two men, to whom, after Jefferson, the University was
most deeply indebted, either for its foundation, or for
its prosperity during its formative years. It is only by
examining the honorable record of their lives that we can
clearly understand why, after choosing a famous former
President of the United States, and an actual President,
as members of the new board, he should then have selected
two younger men, whose reputations were limited
to the area of their native State.