University of Virginia Library

XXXVI. Diversions, continued

The popular dinner of those times was the public dinner.
The anniversary of no supreme political event was
then ever allowed to pass without its celebration with a
banquet, when many quarts of spirits were drunk, and
many patriotic toasts offered and responded to. The

first great public dinner that took place at the University
occurred before all its buildings were completed and
even before a single student had matriculated; this was
given in honor of Lafayette's visit in 1824,—an incident
to be referred to here because it forms a very interesting
part of the social history of the institution.
The distinguished Frenchman arrived in Albemarle on
November 4, about four months before the lectures be
gan. After a public reception in entering the county,
he went straight to Monticello, accompanied by thousands
of enthusiastic people, who had assembled from the neighboring
valleys and mountains. The meeting of the two
venerable patriots has been often described,—how the
one greeted the other with, "God bless you, General,"
and the other the one with "God bless you, Jefferson,"
and how the two embraced each other, amid audible sobs
from the spectators of that moving scene.

On the 15th, Jefferson, Lafayette, and Madison set
out from Monticello in a landau for Charlottesville, with
a numerous escort of cavalrymen and citizens on horseback.
A reception was held in the town, and then the
procession started for the University; and only came to
a halt when it reached the foot of the Lawn. On the
verdant terraces, rising one above the other, had gathered
groups of gayly dressed ladies, who waved their
handkerchiefs when the French hero appeared, and then
rushed forward and formed a lane, along which he and
his companions, with many polite bows, passed from their
carriage to the Rotunda steps. William F. Gordon
there received them with an eloquent address of welcome.
A short interval of rest ensued, and then Lafayette, with
Jefferson and Madison on either side, returned to the
Lawn, and, with kindly urbanity, mingled with the assembled
people. The dinner was held in the great circular

room of the Rotunda, and there could not have been
found in America another apartment more imposing for
the purpose. The hour chosen was three o'clock in the
afternoon. The tables were arranged in three concentric
circles; Valentine W. Southall presided, with Lafayette
on his right, and beyond him, on the same side,
Jefferson and Madison; and with George Washington
Lafayette, a son of the General, with his suite, on the
left. The first toast was to the "American Revolution";
the second, to the "Father of his Country"; and
the third, to Lafayette himself. When he had responded,
he gave four toasts: "Charlottesville and the
University," "the Sages and Heroes of the Revolution,"
"the President of the United States," and "Jefferson
and the Declaration of Independence."

Jefferson's reply was read by Southall, and it contained
a pathetic allusion to the new seat of learning, and his
paternal hopes for its future career. "If, with the aid
of my younger and abler coadjutors," he said, "I can
still contribute anything to advance this institution, within
whose walls we are now mingling manifestations of affection
to this, our guest, it will be, as it has been, cheerfully
and zealously bestowed. And if I could see it
once enjoying the patronage and cherishment of our
public authorities with undivided voice, I should die
without a doubt of the future fortunes of my native
State, and in the consoling contemplation of the happy
influence of this institution on its character, its virtue, its
prosperity, and its safety." Seven regular toasts followed,
and many voluntary ones. Among the latter was
a toast by John Coles: "To the Future Students of the
University of Virginia,—may they equal General Lafayette
in love of Liberty and Political Consistency."
The day, according to the graphic report of the Central

Gazette which has survived, was characterized by
unbroken dignity and orderliness, universal enthusiasm,
and profound emotion.

The first public dinner given by the students was held
on the Fourth of July, 1826, and it was followed by an
oration in harmony with the patriotic nature of the occasion;
but it must have been accompanied by some disspation,
for when the request for permission to give a
public dinner on the next anniversary of the same date
was sent in by them, it was, at first, refused, although
they obtained at once the arid privilege of listening to
an address and to the reading of the Declaration. So
persistently, however, did they urge a reconsideration of
this decision that the Faculty reluctantly reversed it upon
receiving their promise that all present would conduct
themselves with "unexceptional propriety." As the
22nd of February, 1828, approached, they sought permission
to celebrate that day also with a public dinner;
and this was granted, doubtless because the pledge for
the preceding Fourth of July had been strictly observed.
But as if they feared that the occasion would be marred
by frivolous toasts, the Faculty proposed a number that
were of a highly suggestive historical flavor, but not very
appealing to the heated patriotism of the youthful orators;
such, for instance, as the "Effect of Climate on
National Character," the "Influence of Art on Painting,"
the "Study of the Classics," and the "Influence of
General History in Instructing by Example." To young
fellows fully charged to explode on the subjects of the
"Crossing of the Delaware" and the "Surrender of
Cornwallis at Yorktown," these utilitarian and didactic
themes, submitted probably in a sly spirit of humor, must
have appeared extraordinarily dull and inopportune.

From year to year, public dinners were given in town

to celebrate the 13th of April, and these were popular
occasions with the students. The transfer of the intermediate
examinations to February seemed to have discouraged
their celebration of the 22nd of that month, for
they were too much absorbed in the work of preparation
to amuse themselves with public dinners at that time.

In 1831, one of the buildings of Charlottesville was
converted into a public theatre, and we first learn of its
existence through the drunkenness which it encouraged
among the students. A Thespian society had already
been organized in the town; and it was perhaps due to
the influence of its members that a theatre was opened.
This establishment was under the management of a strolling
player named Richardson. Several students were
accused of joining the society, but they denied all personal
connection with it. At least one, however, John
Leitch, was known to have participated in a theatrical
performance that took place in the town; but this may
have been a drama staged by an obscure company in the
course of a tour. Such actors were frequent visitors
to Charlottesville. In 1834, Meredith Jones, the proprietor
of a University boarding house situated without
the precincts, asked permission of the Faculty to rent one
of his rooms for a few nights to such a band, but was refused.
Fairs were also held in town; and in 1835,—
and, no doubt, in other years,—there was a show of
wild beasts.

Many of the students cultivated a taste for music.
In 1825, a teacher was licensed to give lessons on the
violin. Perhaps, this was the citizen of Staunton, who,
crossing the Ridge, distributed many prospectuses among
the hotels with the view of obtaining a sufficient number
of pupils to make up a class. He offered to give three
or four lessons each day in the week. That the use of

musical instruments within the precincts was now constant
is disclosed by their interdiction by the Faculty during
the hours of lecture, and throughout Sunday. Bonnycastle
and Key declined to unite with their colleagues
in the adoption of this ordinance. The prohibition was
carried even further in 1831, for, in the code of that
year, all musical instruments were to be laid aside also
after two o'clock at night. It shows the determination
of the authorities, that, when, in the course of this year,
a student insisted upon his right to play on his violin
during the forbidden hours, he was promptly dismissed
for his obstinacy.

In 1832, the echoes of the arcades were awakened by
the music of a band composed entirely of students, and
the chairman was very pleasantly impressed by their
skill. This band, so long as it existed, always played
during the intervals of the exercises on the 13th of April
and the 4th of July. A serenade with stringed instruments,
accompanied by a drum, which took place in
March, 1833, called forth only delighted approval; but
when repeated, a short time afterwards, was condemned,
—doubtless because it had changed to an offensive character;
thus, in 1835, a disorderly party of performers
playing on fiddles and other instruments, and singing very
obscene corn-songs, raised a very discordant hubbub in
front of Mr. Wertenbaker's house, which was only discontinued
when the proctor came upon the ground. So
many flutes and violins were, during the following year,
in use in Mrs. Gray's district, and so often, and at such
inopportune hours, did their owners employ them, that
several of the young men asked the Faculty's permission
to remove their domicile to Mr. Conway's. It was reported,
indeed, that some of these concerts in the dormitories
were kept up until two o'clock in the morning;

and the effect finally grew to be so distracting that the
Faculty restricted all playing to the intervals between two
and three o'clock in the afternoon, and four in the afternoon
and eight in the evening. It was prohibited altogether
now, as formerly, on Sunday. Both rules were
constantly broken.

There were only a few amusements besides those
already mentioned to enliven the leisure moments of the
students. One of these was skating. The pond afforded
an excellent surface for this sport in the course of
the winter, while skates were easily procurable from
among the miscellaneous contents of the University shops.
The price of a pair, however, was not very low, for four
dollars seems to have been the figure. Pitching quoits
was also a frequent form of recreation; and in this both
the proctor and the professors sometimes joined. This
game too was prohibited on Sundays. Recourse was also
had to marbles. Marbles would be hardly expected to
offer an opportunity for creating a noise, and yet the students
were able, for that reason, to make it objectionable
on many occasions; a party playing before the door of a
member of the Faculty in 1837 used so much profanity
that they were reported to the chairman. "The disorder
consequent on marble playing," said he impatiently,
"is becoming so serious that it must be checked"; but
the only result of the effort to do so was to drive the
students to the yards behind the dormitories, where they
not only played on Sunday, but raised such a hullabaloo
at all hours that additional measures of repression had
to be adopted.

The young men were not permitted to keep either a
dog or a horse within the precincts. Riding on horseback
seems to have been disapproved even when the animal
was stabled in Charlottesville,—on the ground that

the diversion was very expensive, and that it wasted
valuable time. The consent of the chairman had to be
obtained if the rider was to relieve himself of the charge
of violating the law; and it was granted on the sole
excuse of bad health. It was only when the ordinary
student was compelled to use a horse to carry him from
his home in the country to the University, that this act
passed without censure. Races were held near Charlottesville,
during this early period, and the collegians
were not prohibited from being present, although it was
known that they usually went armed with pistols, and
that, not infrequently they became mixed up there in
serious affrays. In 1830, when certain students were
pointedly questioned by the chairman as to why they
carried pistols on their persons to the race-track, they
replied that they were afraid of being attacked by "citizens
of Charlottesville"; but this was probably a reason
which had little foundation beyond their own imaginary
apprehensions.