University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER XXIV

Summary of University Life—Duties Versus Pleasures

Many who have never enjoyed a college or university training
incline to surround that life with a halo of diversified
pleasure—such as from their own viewpoint contributes simply
to passing the time acceptably. Most of them remember
well their individual experience in acquiring the education
they possess; their joy or pain at the closing of the
final student-page, and their delight or sorrow at the retrospect
as the years come and go. Beyond this false conception some
believe that those with advancement sufficient to enter the
higher institutions have done so less through personal effort
than an inherent aptness for absorbing all things unknown;
that this being a fact the equation of study need enter little
into the so-called student's daily doings, and instead thereof
he breathes an atmosphere of perfect comfort, ease and indolence
verging sometimes on to raillery, debauchery and possibly
lawlessness. Those who have entered the silvery portals
know better how to speak, and I am confident if all were
entreated for an expression of opinion their verdict would
come in no discordant sounds, but in a single emphatic monotone—university
student-life is exacting in its demands, and
like every other successful business has daily problems claiming
from all serious attention. Of course in every aggregated
mass of humanity assembled for a specific purpose, and
having in common the same ultimate object, there will be always
a few either more matured in years, excessively bright
or stupid, over or under prepared, or wayward by intention—
dissenters, nay sometimes disturbers—but these are so overshadowed

Professor Thomas R. Price, LL.D., at thirty-eight
1839-1903

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FACING 460

by the persistent thinking majority that their presence
creates only a gentle breeze, which gives strength by
fanning the dominant sentiment—work—into more universal
acceptance. Indeed, it cannot be otherwise with a higher
student-body, where the ambition of the many is to acquire
abundant knowledge in any given line with the hope of making
something out of themselves, fully conscious that the kind
of foundation laid at the university controls largely the kind
of structure—success—to be erected thereon in after life. As
a matter of fact the lighter weights soon fly to distant parts
or bring themselves in conformity with the prevailing spirit,
since to the average individual there is little satisfaction in
groping singly along a chosen path—the mere thought of no
companion in a contemplated pleasure is intimidating and
repulsive, quite enough usually to cause abandonment. The
impression, however, must not be conveyed that the great
majority of my day University students were sober-sides,
weighted by cares and years, depressed by the sad scenes and
conditions of the recent past, from whose influence the South
was then just emerging. On the contrary they were by no
means insensible of youthful exuberance and instincts so essential
for evolving the progressive man and the higher manhood;
they were free from malicious intent and puerile fantasies,
therefore, like any other body of young men trained
at home under various régimes inculcating respect to law,
order, parents and all others in authority. Such when removed
temporarily to a distant soil lost none of the characteristics
and vigor incident to transplanting but inclined to grow
in wisdom and knowledge as though continually under superior
guiding hands. If we cast around several conditions, not
existing at all institutions, may be found that then played a
strong part towards our general good:

First.—It was an exceptionally democratic body of young
men exercising no restriction in their association with one
another, consequently it mattered not the slightest whether
one be an upper or lower classman, or his department academic,
law, medicine or engineering—all lived and vied together
as a happy family. The older enthusiast of law or
medicine was as liable to select an academic freshman for a
boon companion or room-mate as one more kindred to his

age and line of thinking—all alike arranged for pleasurable
walks and talks irrespective of everything except good companionship.

Second.—Members of the professional departments, being
older and in a degree settled, exercised upon the more youthful,
by this unrestricted contact, a strong impression of the
maturer manly character. Many were at least twenty-five,
some beyond, while a few had seen Civil War service with its
disfigurement—without an arm or leg, having to hobble
around on crutches or canes. Not a small percentage at the
close of hostilities had sought employment in various lines
for several years thereby earning quite enough to defray University
expenses, consequently all such had sown their wild
oats and frowned upon those evincing an inclination to seed
a crop.

Third.—The South had been impoverished so by war, especially
in means and professional men, that many students,
sensible of the conditions oppressing them, left nothing unturned
to accomplish the most in the shortest time. They
realized their inevitable fate of having to face the world solely
on personal merit; that no material helping hand, barring
friendly sympathy, awaited their graduation to boost them
into prominence; that, their fair land needing faithful workers
in all lines, it should be their honest effort, so far as ability
and training go, to contribute liberally towards supplying
the want.

Under these somewhat anomalous stimuli it could have
scarcely been expected otherwise than that the students of that
period should have been serious, thoughtful and painstaking
workers—possibly unequaled in any other day and generation
at the University. Facing these facts, little would seem possible
to be infused into that studious life for relieving pressure
and creating diversion, but as already narrated on various
pages the majority did accept something on the outside that
promoted health and prevented monotony. All thoroughly
recognized the evil of sedentary habits, so, despite the great
demand and need of time for study, the strife against this
tendency continued religiously, often at the cost of convenience
and effort. It was only during my last two years that
we had a well-equipped gymnasium, made attractive by the

many forms of helpful apparatus and acting as a center for
developing, contesting and exhibiting a training in manly
exercise and sports. Prior to this a few horizontal and parallel
bars stationed here and there in the open—available only
in dry and pleasant weather, when they were well patronized
—made up our equipment for systematic muscular excitement.
It is true most of us possessed Indian clubs and dumb-bells
—I still use mine occasionally—which, after sitting several
hours under mental tension, would be called into service a few
minutes thereby better oxygenating the blood and giving it a
more healthy circulation. Apart from these simples, that ever
more passive exercise—walking—received the greatest approval.
While the majority of us had nine lectures a week,
some one or two more or less, and the University occupied
considerable territory—the lecture and dining halls being remote
from our rooms—thereby occasioning the covering of
much space each day on foot, yet this enforced walking was
not regarded sufficient out-of-door recreation, especially as
there was attached no direct relaxation or pleasure. As a
result whenever weather permitted, and it usually did, after
all lectures were over, 5 o'ck, P. M., we journeyed along
some divergent public road, private path, or more frequently
down to Charlottesville—a trip readily completed in time for
supper, 6 o'ck—where the sidewalks were always in creditable
condition and usually the varying scenes more interesting
In addition to this, for several years preceding the erection of
the Lewis Brooks Museum, upon the upper portion of the
long triangular plot converging to a point at the Post-office,
many of us during the autumn and spring utilized the space
for foot-ball. The game as played then certainly was ragged,
governed by few rules but many men, and although a violent
exercise was devoid of serious danger from the fact that every
one apparently had mercy on the "under dog." About 4.30
o'ck, a few students with the ball would divide into sides,
begin to kick, run and hollo, only to be a signal for those near
to rush out and join in, while other recruits were captured
gradually from passers-by, who may originally have left their
rooms for a walk, until frequently a couple of hundred were
enjoying the sport enthusiastically. We had goals, foul-lines
and captains, and endeavored to divide so that each side would
have equal representation, but otherwise the game was very
much on the go as you please order. Although generally
one of the number I do not recall seeing displayed any temper
or unkind feeling, far less bitter contention, as the exercise
was fostered simply for its supposed value to physical development,
and when sufficient circulation, as each determined
for himself, had been established we withdrew quietly without
criticism, form or ceremony. The practice never developed
in my day an eleven thought worthy to enter contests
with other institutions, and I do not remember ever hearing
the realization of such an idea hoped for or discussed.

Then again every spring we had a baseball team of by no
means uniform merit, whose members, about twenty, during
the last two months of the session indulged in little other exercise
than that of required daily practice. For one or two
years the sport was confined to the home circle, exhibition
games being played now and then between the first and second
nines on the regular grounds to the left of the road leading
to the Cemetery, but several seasons we considered ourselves
sufficiently strong to exchange challenges with Washington
and Lee and other less formidable clubs. Here we took defeat
philosophically when it came and in order to make embarrassment
lighter suppressed all unnecessary noise of the
rooters when fortune drifted our way. While visiting teams
were considered enemies in a way, yet far above prevailed the
spirit of true chivalry and the recognition that it was only a
friendly combat between our guests on the one side and ourselves
on the other.

Charlottesville was no longer that diminutive village of the
Jeffersonian era, when it was feared not equal to assimilating
a small student colony. It had grown and developed into
quite a commercial and social center with beautiful suburban
country filled with charming hospitable people, and altogether
afforded many opportunities for profit and pleasure to the
stranger in their midst. As a people they were loyal to the
University, accepted gladly her students into home circles, encouraged
willingly their youthful amusements, and did more
than could reasonably have been expected in condoning puerile
short-comings and making a temporary residence congenial
as well as attractive.

At the Town Hall theatrical plays and other entertainments
were given frequently by traveling troups and local talent, and
the higher order of these were patronized liberally by the
student-body. We did not hesitate to manifest displeasure
at any exhibition falling below our fancied standard or to indulge
in noisy demonstration at that which specially pleased,
even though sometimes it annoyed the police authorities. Owing
to the apprehension of either contingency the better element
of the town people, especially ladies, seldom attended,
consequently as a rule we were unrestrained in our enthusiasm
by any refining influence save that inherently possessed by
some and fortunately not thoroughly forgotten under such
emergencies. At that day Sol Smith Russell and the Berger
Family (Swiss Bell-ringers) seemed most popular with us,
and several years they came our way twice during the season
always to find a hearty welcome and support. Mr. Russell
enjoyed young life and the intercourse with University
students—a feeling strongly reciprocated on our part—so that
his freedom with us was encouraged and manifestly appreciated
in no small degree. The liberty he took in appealing
to various students in the audience, John R. McDaniel Irby
and others, to corroborate the truthfulness of amusing assertions
invariably called forth unstinted applause and satisfaction.
His unique composition on "The Horse," concluding
with—"but for me, give me the big white horse with a flowing
mane and long tail or give me death"—served to bring much
amusement and laughter.

For one or two years a number of musically-inclined and
semi-comic students banded themselves together under the
name of "University Minstrels," giving one or more exhibitions
of their talent in the Town Hall. These to most of us
were highly entertaining, well patronized by University and
town people, and served to develop among the participants
not only a strong personal loyalty but a certain self-assurance
from stage contact which could not have been obtained elsewhere—laying
for some the foundation of a broader and more
useful field in after life. Mr. George D. Fawsett was decidedly
our best comedian, and according to our judgment made an
inimitable end-man. He afterwards adopted as a vocation
the stage and theatrical management with commendable success.

Mr. Benj. D. Whiteley as center-man took the part
well, as did Mr. Frank B. Ives and most of the others in the
cast. Who that witnessed the performances fails to recall
vividly the favorable reception of the many songs, including
lines like these?

The establishment of the "Squibb Gymnasium"—the first
at the University—during the early months of session 187576,
filled a long-felt want, especially among those preferring
indoor exercise and that with such apparatus that favored certain
lines of physical development. Often in late afternoons
many more would be found there than could conveniently be
accommodated, except through the process of patiently waiting
turns, but in the morning hours, just before and after
dinner, one could cavort around in perfect satisfaction—without
the slightest interference. Those of us rooming near-by
frequently ran in at irregular times, shed hats, coats and vests,
and accepted a ten-minute shake-up that removed many bodily
cobwebs. During the freezing period not a few indulged in
skating on the University ice-pond, or Cochran's pond a short
distance beyond Charlottesville, where hundreds of young
ladies and gentlemen were wont to assemble in afternoons—
some as interested spectators, others to enjoy in reality the
exhilarating recreation. Students owning skates and too
busy at certain times to exercise with them were generous in
passing them along to others who fortunately knew their use,
so that many rather than a few reaped pleasure. With a
goodly number occasional trips were popular, such as spending
over Sunday in Richmond, Washington, Staunton, Lynchburg,
or at some less remote home of friends, whose hospitality
on such occasions knew no bounds. For important
events, as dedications and inaugurations, the time accepted
was longer and the contingent going much larger.

Taken as a body we did little studying on Sunday, only
those having early Monday lectures feeling compelled to
violate the sacredness of the day. We were great churchgoers,
always appearing there in our best—about the only
occasions the majority accepted for wearing such. In the
morning we usually heard a sermon at one of the down town
churches, and at night attended the Chapel or Public Hall, according
to which was in use. Some of us also enjoyed Professor
Minor's Bible class or the Sunday School early in
the day, and Professor Davis' Bible lecture in the afternoon,
while others took long journeys into the country on foot—to
Monticello or even points more remote.

After the first year or two not a few ceased devoting their
entire time to University duties and allowed a certain portion
for social pleasures—visiting young ladies in the University,
Charlottesville and suburban country, and entering into some
of the diversions their lives offered, such as dancing, attending
Germans, receptions, lawn games, etc. Thus that contingent
was brought under a refining influence—culture—
that gave permanent elevation to character and always, irrespective
of time and place, must count for much good. By
this we came to realize something of the home-life of the
kindly people making up the warp and woof of that section
of the great Commonwealth, to enjoy their confidence and to
treasure their memory. A number of us were fond of horseback
riding, so every now and then during spring a half-dozen
or more would hire such available animals as could be
had at livery and leisurely traverse the tortuous and hilly
roads characteristic of the locality. Sometimes it would be
westward towards Ivy, or southward to North Garden, or
out High Street or Ridge Road, but mostly to Monticello or
down over the free bridge to Shadwell, Edgehill, Castlehill,
etc. When not inclined to such passive exercise we would
get carriages (barouches) holding four, in which five or six
often crowded, and enjoy a less lengthy drive to some rural
home for a friendly call—conversing en route upon topics
most congenial and accepting for our betterment the open
air and beautiful scenery so profuse in those surrounding
landscapes. In snowy spells, that came seldom, sleighing was
popular with the natives, and sleighs with fairly good horses

and abundant bells could be hired by us students, but the
prices ranged so high as to preclude all save a favored few
from indulging the pleasure.

The only time recognized by common consent for visiting
one another was the hour following supper, when all felt at
liberty to encroach upon the sanctity of friends' rooms, according
to individual inclination and preference. Of course
some intimates—clubmates, relatives, etc.—failed to observe
this regulation, but knew to what extent, and took no exception
at a reminder of being too busy for entertaining. In
seasons of greatest pressure—when nearing examinations
all such social amenities practically ceased, as the great majority
kept well to themselves in the effort at bringing creditable
results.

Those who were musical often spent the evening hour in
some one's room where several of the more skilled performers
enjoyed separate and concerted practice, much to the delight
or disgust of those within audible range. Some were gifted
and had passed the amateur stage, while others were novices
with abundant ambition and hope, so that the variety certainly
tended to make the spice of life.

One winter Harris, Mountjoy and a number of us became
interested in hypnotism, spiritualism, occult manifestations,
rappings, etc., and occasionally spent the hour in manipulating
the table and chairs. Of our number only one was found
to be a true medium and he soon inclined to avoid the meetings,
thereby denying the rest much amusement.

The legal students and others who aspired to forensic attainments
concerned themselves not a little with the two
literary societies—Jeff. and Wash.—attending faithfully the
Saturday night meetings, which became popular and edifying
largely through their expended talent and effort. There existed
between these societies a slight rivalry, but only enough
to encourage the joining of one or the other. Membership
in either was open to all students simply by paying an initiation
fee but could not be held in both at the same time. Secret
fraternities were numerous—some fifteen or twenty—and
membership therein counted for much. Indeed, without it
I never considered life complete at the University, although
some highly commendable men resisted the affiliation on the

plea of greater contentment in perfect freedom. But unfortunately
for them this was only a fancied conception
through not knowing the whole truth, for nothing could be
more satisfactory and delightful than the loyal friendship of
a dozen or more companions drawn together closely by fine
fellowship and the treasured secrets held inviolate among
themselves. While I recognize the possibility of having one
or more black sheep in the fold—those with peculiarities nonassimilative
by the majority—yet this need play no serious
part if the honest effort be made by the stronger characters
to change the leopard of his spots and a determination reached
to accept and tolerate what remains in a fraternal spirit. Each
fraternity sought the supposed best element of character and
manhood, according to its conception, liking and organic
principles—thus barring one-half of the student-body—but
as a matter of fact the personnel of some excelled that of
others, although each contained a number of sterling fellows
who would have been an ornament to—indeed, in the absence
of previous alliance sought after by—any organization of
friends. Whatever short-comings fraternities may have I
contend that their presence in moderation is healthful, encouraging
and stimulating to every college and university
community.

I occasionally heard from companions that certain acts and
doings were in violation of the University rules, but so far
as my individual experience went I never realized that she
possessed any specific code of government for herself or her
students. I pursued my own sweet way at all times, observing
solely moral laws—seemingly all she expected—ever mindful
of the purpose for which I was there and the duties that
ought to be performed—not to please the University, but for
my own personal good, present and future. It was a beautiful
experience—the passing of life at that delightful age,
so free from worldly responsibilities, so full of prophetic
hopes, unconscious of a restraining hand, conscious of the
noble examples of matured masters from whom all could
with profit take mould and fashion. I only played one game
of cards while at the University, due not to a dislike for the
amusement, but rather to a recognition of it containing for
me at that age and financial condition the element of danger—

a possible growing infatuation, an unwise consumption of
time, and the sad parting with my limited amount of money,
for which I had abundant need in meeting current obligations.
I do not believe that many students disagreed with me, for
during my entire course I heard of scarcely a half-dozen who
would gamble whenever opportunity presented—a very small
contingent that accomplished little or nothing towards an
education, and created for themselves among college-mates
other than an enviable name.

During those years I indulged in no whisky or brandy—
only two or three glasses of beer and an equal quantity of
wine, eggnog and apple-toddy at Christmas-times. Thus
while more temperate than some I was less so than others,
as a large percentage absolutely refused all kinds of stimulants.
On the contrary, however, there was a good number
who looked upon them with favor, having been brought up
in homes where they were used freely by the elders, not forbidden
the youthful, and considered by all a necessary daily
provision of the table. Indeed, some of my clubmates had
enjoyed such a training and occasionally on Saturday nights
did not hesitate to overstep the limit of sobriety, causing the
temperates to look after the intemperates. While this association
might have been regarded very suggestive of "doing likewise,"
it only served to strengthen my aversion towards such
thoughtless abuse—a sentiment that found equal lodgement
in the minds of many others. We were men—free agents
to accept "good or evil" according to taste and pleasure—
none daring to encroach upon the prerogatives of another.
Those preferring occasional conviviality sought others of
similar inclination and did little towards inducing the abstemious
inclined to emulate perverse examples—usually being
well satisfied in having around as caretakers such as were
known never to lose their heads.

It was a golden opportunity for weaklings to weaken, but
the more mature and thoughtful—the only kind belonging
there—easily resisted the glittering temptation, realizing there
was only harm lurking within. Surely, like all higher institutions
of learning, the University was a fine place to exhibit
and prove innate quality, to develop and mould permanent
character, to give evidence and appreciation of a mother's

Librarian, William Wertenbaker, at seventy-five
1799-1882

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training and a father's example—the tree bending as the twig
inclined. The going wrong of a young man there was no
fault of his companions—the fountain source being traceable
to earlier days through inheritance and environment, when
the proper restraining and correcting influences failed to be
applied and enforced. At the University he was only taking
liberty with opportunity, that which would have been accepted
as easily elsewhere and possibly to a far greater degree.

No student of that period can fail to recall the industry
and seriousness of our great majority, whose ambition seemed
solely for improvement and cultivation in order to fill acceptably
and wisely those places in the world's affairs as
ordained by Divine Providence.