University of Virginia Library

XV. Successors to the First Professors

We have now described the general courses of study
pursued by the young collegians who attended the different

schools. Who were the professors who taught
them? In a previous chapter we mentioned the most
salient events in the lives of those who made up the first
Faculty. Before the period which we are now examining
had ended in 1842, every member of this original body,
with the exception of Tucker, had either died or retired.
It will be pertinent now to supplement the details already
given with a statement of the circumstances of
these deaths and resignations, and some description of
the men who were chosen to fill up the gaps thus created.

The first of the professors to leave was Key. His resignation
was not sent in until March 10, 1827, but at
least five months earlier, he seems to have announced his
intention of returning to England, for in the preceding
October, the Board had recorded their regret that he
should harbor such a purpose. Both Key and Long had,
on October 6, 1825, indignantly vacated their chairs, in
consequence of the rebellious spirit displayed on the night
of October 1, but had been persuaded to remain. That
the repetition of this commotion on a later day caused
Key to revert to his original decision is indicated in the
minute adopted by the Board on October 10, 1826, in
which they state as an incentive to him to stay on, that
"they are endeavoring to introduce some radical changes
into the government" of the University, which "will
secure more order than has heretofore prevailed." As
an additional inducement, they promised that the professors,
thereafter, should be relieved of some of their
irksome duties. The following winter would prove how
far the projected reforms could be carried out. The
Board declared that Key's request for his release was so
temperately and so feelingly expressed that it would be
improper for them to hold him to his contract; but they
asked him to give his professorship another trial, and if,

on the first of March, 1827, he should be still discontented,
they would leave him at liberty to withdraw at
the close of the session. Key, it will be recalled, had
been filling his chair only nineteen months when he offered
his resignation.[12] Cocke, who seems to have had a provincial
dislike of all foreigners, had always looked at
him askant. His final comment upon him showed some
acidity. "I have just received a letter from Mr. Madison
mentioning Key's resignation," he wrote Cabell, "but
with the modest request that we will permit his salary to
run until the last of August in order to suit the departure
of a London instead of a Liverpool packet, as the latter
would subject him to the expense of a journey across the
island of Great Britain."

The vacancy thus created was filled by the translation
of the professor of natural philosophy. Madison would
have preferred a different incumbent, for he was afraid,
as he expressed it, lest Bonnycastle should become
"seized with the same malady" as the one that had
caused the severance of Key's official connection with the
University; but Bonnycastle remained in the chair until
his death, and gave it a reputation which it has never
lost.[13] He seems to have been of a quiet and taciturn
temper,—the impressions of which, however, were conflicting.
"Amid his grave occupations," we are told in
the Faculty's resolution in his memory, "he had a keen
relish for the pleasures of social intercourse, and few
men were equal to him in combining innocent mirth with

useful and solid instruction." In spite of these social
qualities he is known to have been morbidly shy,—in
fact, he had been seen to climb a fence and walk in the
mud in order to avoid passing students on the pathway.
Like Long, he married a Virginian lady. An arbor
which he built for his children behind his pavilion was
locally famous for the masses of roses and honeysuckle
which he had trained to grow over it. He was remarkable
alike for his capacity for abstract speculation and for
imaginative production. All his English colleagues having
withdrawn, it was not unnatural that he too should
have nursed the hope of passing his last years in the
land of his birth. "Some of my English friends," he
wrote Cabell, in 1837, "are employed in procuring the
means of my returning to them. The post they desire is
not yet established, and, perhaps, never will be."

The earliest intimation that we have of Long's desire
to return to England is found in a letter written to
Cabell by Cocke in September, 1827. It appears that he
had just been appointed to the Greek professorship in
the projected University of London, but he did not ask
to be released from the obligations of his contract with
the University of Virginia—this having still three years
to run,—because he anticipated that this length of time
would be consumed in erecting the buildings of the new
institution. Before a week had passed, however, he discovered
that he was wrong in this expectation. He again
wrote to Cocke, as the head of the executive committee,
to tell him that he had received that morning a request
from the Council of London University to take up his
new duties on October 1,—it was already the tenth of
September,—and there was barely three weeks left to
him to close up his affairs in Virginia and make the voyage
to England. It seems that he had been urged by Dr.

Briggs, of Liverpool, as far back as December, 1826, to
become a candidate for the chair, but he had refused to
do so for two reasons: (1) he was offered no positive
assurance of success; and (2) the new institution might
be put into operation before he would be at liberty to
leave the University of Virginia. By the ensuing March,
however, he had made up his mind to adopt Dr. Briggs's
advice; but he was still under the impression that, after
all, the London University would not open its doors as
early as July, 1829, after which time he would be entirely
untrammeled. When he informed the Council of his
willingness to become a candidate, he frankly announced
that his services belonged to the University of Virginia
up to that specific date; and subsequently, in accepting the
professorship, he had reiterated this statement. He now
wrote to Cocke to learn whether the Board of Visitors
would consent to cancel his contract at the end of the
term in July, 1828,—an interval of one session only.
"My securing in England the comfortable means of
subsistence," he said, "is an object of the greatest importance
for my future happiness."

Brougham was the chairman of the London University
Council, and through him, Madison, as rector of
the University of Virginia, requested a postponement of
the offer which had been made to Long; but an inattentive
ear was turned to this: and in the following March,
1828, Long received a second summons to London. His
resignation was accepted by the Board of Visitors in
July in a reluctant but generous spirit. "They would
not estimate properly their obligations to the distinguished
professor," they said, "if they insisted on retaining
him against his will, or opposed any obstacle to
the pursuit of a more eligible situation in his native
country; nor would they act with becoming liberality towards

a sister institution if they did not feel some consolation
in the reflection that what is loss to the cause of
science here, will be gained to a seminary which promises
no ordinary usefulness in the great work of instructing
the rising generation, and extending the limits of human
knowledge." In conclusion, they declared that Long had
acted throughout "with candor and propriety," and his
perfect integrity of conduct, added to the fidelity with
which he had discharged his duties, had led them to give
the release he asked for.

Long, a man of many excellent qualities, was sensibly
touched by this liberal treatment. He was clearly aware
of the awkward position in which his retirement would,
for the time being, place the University, and its attitude
of unselfish consideration for his interests rather than for
its own, may well have made a grateful impression on
his mind. The kindly feeling which he had expressed
for the institution when he first thought of withdrawing,
was, doubtless, heightened by this generous conduct of the
Board when he actually resigned. Madison, in a letter
to Cabell, written the following month, asserts that
Long looked forward to his departure with regret; and
this is quite probable, for he had married, as we have
seen, a Virginian lady, a tie that must, in itself, apart
from the duties of his professorship, have done much to
bring him into sympathy with the community. Madison
testifies to his popularity with his pupils; and Long himself,
towards the end of his life, spoke with praise of
their manly qualities. But he does not appear to have
been valued in the practical affairs of the institution beyond
the threshold of his classroom. Madison stated
privately that he was an "embarrassing member of the
administrative body,"—a somewhat vague expression,
but one that perhaps meant that he was pertinacious of

his own opinions. There is no evidence, however, that
he was a man of an aggressive or obstructive disposition;
on the contrary, he seems to have been quiet and amiable;
and it is possible that the embarrassment which he caused
in the Faculty may have sprung from the fidelity of his
friendship for Key, who never seemed at all satisfied after
his translation to Virginia.

On several occasions, following his removal to London,
Long exhibited his continued interest in the University.
In December, 1828, he saw an opportunity for the
library to complete its set of Valpy's edition of Stephenson's
Greek Thesaurus, and he personally called the
American minister, Mr. Barbour's, attention to it. He
wrote frequently to Gessner Harrison, his successor, and
was very often helpful in sending him the latest European
contributions of value to the science of philology. His
correspondence with the other of his two most distinguished
pupils, the scholarly Henry Tutwiler, which
lasted until his own death, contains many evidences of
his kindly impressions of his life, work, and friends at
the University of Virginia. He won a high reputation
after his return to England. Indeed, by his subsequent
writings and teachings, he exercised, during nearly half
a century, a most fruitful influence on the classical scholarship
of his native country; and he edited numerous classical
texts with such acumen that some of them, in spite of
the modern advance in research, remain in use down to
the present day. He was the principal English authority
on Roman law and ancient geography; and through
the Quarterly Journal of Education, was very instrumental
in furthering the success of the Society for the Diffusion
of Useful Knowledge.

There was one member of the Board of Visitors who,
at first, was averse to accepting Long's resignation, unless

a substitute could be found at once to fill the vacancy
that would follow. This was Chapman Johnson. He
was not sanguine of their ability to secure an American
of the proper acquirements for the place; his preference
was for an English incumbent; and who more competent
to lay hands on him than Long? He thought, therefore,
that Long should be required to obtain this new
professor as the condition of his own release from his
contract. Johnson, unlike Jefferson, was a sound churchman,
and now that the "old sachem" was not alive to
protest, he asserted that a scholar from Oxford or Cambridge,
who had been educated for the ministry, would
be acceptable,—some young episcopal clergyman who
could submit such a brilliant credential of his attainments
as a diploma from one of these ancient universities.
"Tell Cabell," he wrote Cocke, "it is time to give up
his old prejudice upon this subject, the offspring of the
French Revolution, long since a bastard by a divorce of
the unnatural alliance between liberty and atheism."

It was the opinion of Alexander Garrett, a man of uncommon
shrewdness, that the most suitable persons to
appoint were "young Virginians, when they could be obtained
unusually well qualified, with fine talents, studious
habits, ambition to excell, and unexceptional moral deportment."
A young man of this cast, if elevated to a
professorship in the University, "was not so likely," he
said, "to be invited to other situations, but would remain
for years, constantly improving, and would become so
closely identified with the institution of his own State
that it would be difficult to induce him to leave it."
When this conviction was uttered, two of the chairs had
been filled in harmony with it,—those of law and ancient
languages,—and time enough had gone by to demonstrate
its soundness. Long also had held the same view.

For some time after his removal to London, he seems,
under the influence of Madison's earnest solicitations, to
have given Brougham and Barbour, the American Minister,
all the assistance in his power to obtain the services
of an English scholar, but he nevertheless continued to
advise that the choice should be limited to America.
Nor did he do this because he thought that it would be
impossible to find a competent man, who, as Barbour
expressed it, was willing "to leave England for a distant
land." When, in September, 1827, he had written
Cocke that he intended to resign, he was under the impression,
as we have seen, that he would remain in Virginia
until the end of his term in 1829; he calculated that
this interval would be sufficient to allow him "to qualify
one of two or three of his students to succeed him more
able than any one the University would be likely to get";
and he said to Madison, in the same month, that he
would "gratuitously and gladly spare no pains in procuring
a proper succession by an extra assistance to one
or two of his pupils, whose capacity and proficiency were
singularly promising, and whose disposition was favorable
to such a career."

The first applicant for the vacant chair was Jesse Burton
Harrison. In December, 1827, he visited Charlottesville,
and talked with Long in person, who told him
that, so far, he had not suggested to any of his pupils
the plan of preparation which he had proposed in his
letter to Cocke. He seems to have given his approval
to Jesse Burton Harrison's candidacy in consequence of
this interview. "He allows me to say," wrote Harrison,
"that he desires my success, and he favored me with
such a letter to the rector as I could have exactly desired."
Long counseled him to pursue a course of philological
study in Germany; and he decided that, should the Board

appoint him, he would leave Virginia for that country
at his own expense, and return in the following September,
unless Long should find himself in a position to
tarry longer at the University, or a temporary instructor
could be employed, who would assume charge of his
classes until the following January. Long had made
Harrison's acquaintance very soon after his arrival in
Virginia, and had come to hold him in high esteem, both
as a man and a scholar. Professor Tucker, who had
probably known him when a resident of Lynchburg, the
home of Harrison's father, the friend of Jefferson, also
recommended him warmly in a letter addressed to Cocke.

But not Jesse Burton Harrison, but a student of his
own was to become Long's successor, which was to fulfil
his earnest wish that his mantle should pass to some one
of his pupils. If his advice should be followed, the
choice was certain to fall on one of the two among them,
whom he had, from the beginning, regarded with the
most affection and respect; namely, Gessner Harrison and
Henry Tutwiler, a couple of youthful scholars united to
each other by the memories of early association, the
same literary tastes and pursuits, and the close and loyal
comradeship that springs up in collegiate life. They
were the most distinguished graduates of the first two
years.

Harrison was the son of a father who was warmly esteemed
in the community in which he resided, the county
of Rockingham, which lies in the most beautiful part of
the Valley of Virginia. The most famous body of men
who ever assembled in the State was the Convention of
1829–30. It can be justly said of it as a whole that it
was the gathering of all the talents that then adorned
the ancient commonwealth. Madison and Marshall,
Monroe and Randolph, were the most celebrated figures

in that brilliant council, but hardly second to them in ripe
experience and long public service, were man after man
who had come up from the different counties, with the
unwritten credentials of their constituencies that they
had been selected because they represented, in the most
eminent degree, the civic virtue and wisdom of their several
communities. No higher badge of personal usefulness
and distinction could be possessed by any one in those
times of thoroughly trained public men than the record
of membership in this great convention. Gessner Harrison's
father took his seat in that body hardly a year
after his son's appointment to fill the vacancy caused by
Long's resignation and return to England. He was a
physician in active practice, whose literary bent was reflected
in the choice library which he had collected, and
whose strong partiality for the life of the country gentleman
was indicated by the well-ordered and teeming
farm on which he resided. His admiration of the liberty-loving
Swiss prompted him to name his son Gessner
after the famous Helvetian hero.

Gessner's precociousness of intellect was so phenomenal
that he was able to begin his education at the age of
four; and at eight, he was learning the rudiments of the
Latin tongue. From his earliest boyhood, he was devoted
to general reading, and a volume was rarely absent
from his pocket. This book, in the intervals of wood-chopping
on the farm, he would pull out and devour;
nor was this habit simply one for passing amusement and
recreation,—Horne Tooke's Diversions of Purley, an
authoritative treatise in those times, was mastered in the
like intervals of leisure, and to it, he always attributed
his keen relish for philological studies.

When Gessner entered the University, he was required
to stand an examination. "I was much surprised,"

wrote Long, many years afterwards, "to find that he
knew so much and knew it so well."[14] He was accompanied
by his brother. The two young men had been
taught by their father to observe the Sabbath with Puritan
strictness, and they could not be tempted to run
counter to this parental lesson. Jefferson, it will be recalled,
was in the habit of inviting the students in succession
to dinner at Monticello on that day, as the only
one on which they were released from their class-rooms.
When the turn of the two brothers came, they politely declined,
with the ingenuous statement that they were unable
to make up their minds to neglect their absent
father's wishes and teachings. Jefferson, so far from being
displeased, was delighted with their candor, and
heartily commended them for their filial piety, which, he
said, was "a consolation to meet with in an age when
the young were much inclined to disregard the advice of
their elders." He asked them to dine with him on
another day, and they gladly accepted. No doubt, he
exerted himself to put at ease these youthful guests,
who had won his particular respect and attention by their
sturdiness of character, for they returned to the University
with charming recollections of his courtesy, and
with an impression of his versatile powers which was
never erased from their minds.

On July 24, 1828, after the Board had acted on Long's
resignation, they authorized the rector, Mr. Madison, to
appoint to the vacancy, during one year, any one of the
following persons: Gessner Harrison, M. L. Tracie, and
R. Reynolds. It seems that the Board was not sure that
any one of the three would accept, for Madison was instructed
to report at once should all decline. Harrison

had just graduated in Greek, and had also received the
degree of doctor of medicine. He was apparently the
first spoken to, and he promptly consented. Writing to
Madison in March, when Harrison had been occupying
the professorship on probation for six months, Long said
that he was convinced that his pupil was far better suited
for the place than any one who might be procured in
Europe. Madison himself was doubtful as to whether
the new incumbent would be willing to remain in the
chair. He thought it quite probable that Harrison
would prefer to follow the calling of a physician; but this
apprehension was soon removed, for Harrison intimated
to him confidentially that "he was desirous of having his
appointment made permanent." Possibly, he had been
influenced by his former preceptor in reaching this decision,
for Long had never tired of pressing upon the
Board the wisdom of choosing him. "After a year's
experience of his success as instructor," Long wrote to
Madison, "I do not think the Visitors will have reason to
repent of what they have done, and I hope they will not
find it necessary to apply to England for that which they
already possess. If I may venture an opinion of what
I know of the people of this country (England), I believe
no person will leave it who is so well qualified for the
situation as the diligence and increasing experience of
your present instructor will undoubtedly render him."

Harrison was elected permanent professor of ancient
languages, on July 15, 1829. He was now in his twenty-second
year. He was at this time a great teacher, not
in actu, but in potentia. In his choice a step was taken,
which, as we have seen, was warmly urged by astute Virginians,
like Alexander Garrett and General Cocke, but
which would hardly have won the approbation of Jefferson
himself. Madison, comprehending fully his predecessor's

views, had, at first, endeavored to obtain a distinguished
and experienced scholar from England to fill
the place vacated by Long, but there was now no Gilmer
to rely upon to make the search abroad that would be
necessary. It was useless to expect as much interest
and energy of Barbour, Long, and Key. The obstacles
that so soon discouraged this trio were precisely the same
as those which Gilmer had surmounted with such conspicuous
success. Full of promise as Gessner Harrison
was, it could not be correctly said of him that he, as a
young graduate of twenty-two, conferred any distinction,
in the beginning, on the chair. His appointment carried
a risk with it in spite of his acknowledged talents; but
that appointment set a precedent which, in numerous instances,
—among which may be mentioned specially those
of Harrison himself, William B. Rogers, Basil L. Gildersleeve,
James L. Cabell, Francis H. Smith, and
Charles A. Graves, of our own day, has furnished the
University with some of its most successful instructors,
whose genius for their calling was, perhaps, in a large degree,
attributable to the very fact that they were college
professors from their youth, which gave them that much
more time in the highest academic atmosphere to round
out the more completely their native aptitude for teaching.
Long, no doubt, remembered that he had begun his
fruitful career at the University with as little positive
experience of his profession as Harrison, and this quite
probably made him more lenient in his views of his successor's
rawness, and more sanguine of the ever-increasing
competence which was to follow from that successor's
uncommon abilities and acquirements. He received the
news of Harrison's permanent appointment with keen
satisfaction. "It is a measure," he wrote Cocke,
"which I sincerely hope and believe will promote the interests
of your institution. In whatever way, I and Mr.
Key can cooperate with him, by sending private papers of
our proceedings, or by attending to any commissions with
which we may be intrusted, we will endeavor to do it with
all dispatch and faithfulness. The Universities of London
and Virginia are the same in their general plan.
... We allow, for instance, students to choose their
own classes, but the Council, who correspond to the Visitors,
recommend a certain course to those who enter at
an early period of life. Our experience then, and the
suggestions which we are daily receiving from friends
and enemies, may not be without use to your classical
teacher."