University of Virginia Library

II. Energy of the Faculty

When the war ended, the prospects of the University,
if not precisely of a character to excite a feeling of hopelessness,
were yet full of uncertainty and perplexity.
The buildings had fallen into disrepair; the grounds were
disfigured by neglect; the indispensable apparatus belonging
to the different scientific departments had grown defective
from disuse; the treasury was empty. The organization,
however, was substantially intact. The
machinery of government had almost run down, but
had not been shattered,—the pavilions were still occupied
by members of the Faculty; the doors of the lecturerooms

were still open for the admission of classes; the
dormitories were still in existence to receive new tenants,
and the hotels to welcome new boarders.

The interval between the surrender of the Southern
armies and the close of the session of 1864–65, was too
brief to justify the authorities in striving to increase the
attendance during that time. The revived energies of
the Faculty were concentrated upon making a complete
preparation for the opening of the session of 1865–66.
There was, however, no trustworthy assurance that the
number of students during that session would exceed the
number present during the years of the war. Whether
there was to be any addition or not would depend altogether
upon the rehabilitation of the South. The appalling
impoverishment of its people, the political confusion
which prevailed from border to border, and the
complete disorganization of the system of labor,—all
seemed to foreshadow a limited attendance; but the
hope was nursed that the temporary disablement of so
many Southern colleges, and the desire on the part of
so many former soldiers to take up again their interrupted
education, would swell the number of matriculates
to the one hundred mark at least.

But even with one hundred students enrolled, it was
clearly perceived that, without the State's assistance, the
University could not reasonably expect to recover even
a moderate share of its former prosperity; with the annual
appropriation of fifteen thousand dollars withdrawn,
the institution must sink to the level of a seminary of
secondary merit. Indeed, it was probable that it would
be entirely extinguished. It was only with this addition
to its financial resources that the professors could be properly
remunerated, the required administrative officers retained,
the buildings kept in repair, and provision made,

in the hotels and dormitories, for the accommodation of
students. No petition for the renewal of this appropriation
could be sent to the General Assembly before
that body had convened; and it was not until December
(1865) that it was expected to hold its first session.

In the meanwhile, it was imperative that certain practical
steps should be taken; and no delay was shown in
taking them. The Board met in July (1865), but exhibited
little energy. They first adopted a resolution
commending the fidelity of the Faculty in keeping the
institution intact during the war; and then they went a
little further and expressed the hope that a large number
of students would be enrolled during the approaching
autumn.[1] The Faculty, on the other hand, were
not satisfied to sit down quietly, in this drifting mood,
and await the upshot of future events. Two of the
members especially were opposed to the pursuit of such
a policy of optimism unsupported by works,—these were
Maupin and Minor, who had jointly been so instrumental
in preserving the buildings from depredation, and even
from destruction, at the close of the war. Both clearly
foresaw that the presence of a large number of students
in the autumn was the most certain means of obtaining
the hoped for appropriation from the General Assembly
in the following winter. In their own names, and on
the strength of their own high standing, they, during the
summer of 1865, borrowed of the bank of Charlottesville
an amount sufficient to defray the expense of advertising
liberally and restoring the buildings to the point
required to make them comfortably habitable. To assure
economy, they personally superintended the carpenters
from day to day.

Auspiciously for the upshot of the application to the
Legislature for assistance, the Faculty were able, when
that body convened, to report that two hundred and
twenty students had already matriculated; that the vacancies
in the Faculty had been filled by the election of
professors of remarkable qualifications; and that not less
than five thousand dollars had been spent in the repair
of the different structures. "The indications of an abiding
public confidence and future patronage," it was announced,
"was all that could be desired."

The General Assembly failed to show its appreciation
of the energy which had rendered these good results
possible, by responding at once to the petition for aid.
A combination of influences had to be brought to bear
on the members before they would consent to do this.
One of the most powerful of these was a letter which
was printed in the Richmond Enquirer, in January, 1866,
while the Legislature was in session. The writer presented
an elaborate statement of the scholastic advantages
which the University had to offer to the young men
of Virginia who were desirous of obtaining an education;
of the beneficial impression which the institution had
made upon the standards of instruction then employed
in the private secondary schools; and of the lofty principles
for personal conduct which it had always inculcated
among its students, who were drawn from every
part of the South. In addition, he vigorously combated
the objections which had been urged, either sincerely or
maliciously, against the University. He demonstrated
that the burden imposed upon each individual in the
Commonwealth by the former annual appropriation was
only one cent and a half; that the larger proportion of
the young men in attendance had always belonged to
families in moderate circumstances; and that, while few

of them, comparatively speaking, had won the diploma
of master of arts, yet at least one-third of their number
had graduated in one or more schools. Virginia had
spent not less than half a million dollars in the erection
of the buildings of the University, in the purchase of its
library, and for its general support. Would she be so
callous as to allow all this valuable property to fall into
physical ruin for the want of a few thousand dollars to
keep it in repair? Would she be so shortsighted as to
let the interest on the University's debt remain unpaid,
and thus expose her people to the reproach of a breach
of the public faith? If that institution should be compelled
to suspend from lack of the necessary funds, all
the secondary schools dependent upon her prosperous existence
would languish, and some would even be extinguished;
the spirit of education throughout the State
would feel the shock; and the welfare of the whole Commonwealth
would be seriously impaired.

Convincing as all these arguments were, so abysmal
was the poverty of the hour that the modest appropriation
asked for was, after a long delay, only granted by
the bare margin of votes which the State constitution
required; and there is good reason to think that, without
the degree of restoration which the energy of the Faculty
had been able to bring about, the upshot of the ballot
would have been adverse. That body was justified in
making an optimistic report to the Board of Visitors at
the meeting held at the end of the first session. Two
hotels had already been opened for the accommodation
of the students, and a third was in course of equipment;
all the buildings which had fallen into dilapidation had
been fully repaired; a part of the floating debt liquidated;
the interest on the bonded debt, which amounted to $38,500,
paid; and all the current expenses defrayed to the

last cent. A surplus of two hundred dollars was left in
the treasury.