University of Virginia Library

XXXVII. Buildings and Water Works

Before the session of 1865–66 began, the Faculty, in
their grave uncertainty about the future of the University,
and in their very natural anxiety, in consequence,
to place every branch of its affairs upon the most economical
footing, counseled the Board to put upon the back
of one person the previously divided duties of the officers
of proctor and superintendent of buildings and
grounds. They also recommended that a general plan
for the further improvement of the physical side of the institution
should be procured from a competent architect,
to be carried into effect just so soon as there was
sufficient funds on hand for the employment of an expert
to overlook the course of the alterations and additions.
But these suggestions apparently were not received
by the Board with favor, for, during the next
month, the Faculty proposed that the duties of the superintendent
of grounds and buildings should be taken
over by themselves. They advised that Holmes should
be put in charge of East Lawn and East Range; Schele,
of West Lawn and West Range; McGuffey, of the parsonage,
Dawson's Row, and Monroe Hill; the professor
of mathematics, yet to be elected, of all open ground
lying east of the Lawn; Howard, of all lying west;
Minor, of the cleared land situated some distance beyond

the precincts; Smith, of the woodland; Gildersleeve,
of the Rotunda and Annex; Davis, of the waterworks;
and Cabell, of the footways and flowerbeds along the
Lawn. This proposal, which was marked by some conspicuous
merits, was also rejected,—probably because
the Board were convinced that the Faculty were already
overburdened with tasks.

In June, 1867, the Visitors ratified a contract which the
executive committee had entered into for the purchase of
Carr's Hill, now deemed indispensable to the University's
purposes. Payment for this valuable ground was made
in part by a series of five notes for two thousand dollars
each, which were secured by a deed of trust. John E.
Johnson, then serving as proctor and superintendent, was
succeeded, on his resignation in December, 1867, by Major
Green Peyton, an accomplished engineer and skilful
financier, who was to prove to be the most useful incumbent
that ever held the two offices together. The duties
of proctor were, down to the session of 1891–92, still
joined to those of superintendent of grounds and buildings.
Displaced by the Readjuster party, during the sessions
of 1882–85,[37] Peyton was restored in 1885–86, and
continued to perform the combined work of proctor and
superintendent, during the next five years, at the end of
which time, Adjunct Professor W. H. Echols, of the
School of Applied Mathematics, was appointed (1891–
92) to fill the superintendency of grounds and buildings,
now divorced from the proctorship. In April, 1892,
the value of the University's material equipment was
thought to approximate one million and a half dollars.
The area in open lands was about seven hundred and
fifty acres, which was assessed, in 1895, at $9,465.75.
The principal buildings that had been added, in the

course of the Seventh Period, 1865–1895, were the natural
history museum, chemical laboratory, medical building,
astronomical observatory, Fayerweather gymnasium,
the new hospital, and the University chapel. The
Randall hall was erected subsequently.

The most interesting subordinate of the superintendent
of grounds and buildings, during these years, was Henry
Martin, one of the successors of Martin Tracy. Henry
was sprung from a family which had always occupied the
status of slaves. He was equally remarkable in appearance
and in character. His complexion was that of a
light mulatto somewhat freckled, with flaxon eyebrows,
and hair only a shade darker in tint. The features of his
face,—especially the very high cheek bones,—were distinctly
remindful of the Indian; but the color of the
eye was grayish blue, and the shape of the head was
foreign to the African. He always wore a moustache and
goatee, which further differentiated him from the negro
race; and the departure was accentuated still more by
a bearing of unaffected dignity, and by manners at once
simple and polished. His figure was tall and commanding,
though somewhat awkward; and when he walked, he
bore himself with conspicuous erectness. He was never
idle. In observing his appearance and watching his movements,
the impression could not be avoided that he was
sprung from a mother with an infusion of white, negro,
and Indian blood, and from a father of respectable grade
of Caucasian mentality and social culture.

In his humble way, Henry Martin was no incongruous
appendage of that stately and imposing Faculty, who,
during these memorable years, raised the reputation of
the University of Virginia to the loftiest point which it
has reached as yet. Many a student who was present
during this period has forgotten the faces and figures of

most of the professors, or recall them only through a
mist, but it is quite probable that time has not effaced
the image of this remarkable half-breed from the memory
of a single surviving alumnus of those times. He never
forgot the face of a former student. He was always
successful in the performance of his duties. This was the
result of his never failing to act with clear good sense
in his relation with the young men. "He was always self-respecting,
straight-forward, candid, and frank," says
Dr. Culbreth, who has drawn a very just and sympathetic
portrait of him. "The students, in a spirit of
mischief, would sometimes endeavor to draw him into
an expression of preference for a particular professor.
But he was too shrewd to be caught in their net. 'No,'
he would reply, with his customary deference and politeness,
'they are all fine gentlemen'." "He knew his
part in life," again remarks Dr. Culbreth, "and played
it well. He knew that he was neither professor nor
student, nor white man. He strictly attended to his
own business. I never recall the bell ringing out of
time."

As soon as Henry Martin became too infirm from
advancing years to perform, with his accustomed fidelity,
the duties of janitor, he received a pension; and when
he died, his departure from life was commemorated in
regretful verse by the University magazine, and his
funeral was dignified by the presence of many of the
professors and students, who desired to pay a public
tribute to the intelligence, firmness and diligence, with
which he had performed the humble but useful rôle that
had been assigned him by destiny.

The bell which Henry Martin had rung, with the
most exact punctuality, during so many years, began, in
1886, to exhibit so many signs of disintegration that

the Board of Visitors concluded either to sell it or to
exchange it for a new one. As it had been associated
with the University from the beginning, it was very
fortunately looked upon by the ladies of the community
as a sacred object which should not be allowed to be
carried away from the precincts as if it were so much
worthless junk. At a single meeting, held in March 6,
1887, they collected the sum needed to purchase it.
Their purpose was to have the metal composing it recast
into a bell which should be suspended in the tower of
the chapel. "It is to be called the 'Ladies' bell,' "Professor
Smith wrote B. Johnson Barbour on the following
day, "and it will continue to summon us to prayers
as it has done for fifty years." This pious expectation,
however, does not seem to have been fulfilled,—in 1891,
it was bought from the ladies by Professors Tuttle, Stone,
and Towles, and having been generously presented by
them to the University, it found an asylum at last under
the roof of the Brooks Museum.

During the Seventh Period, 1865–95, there were additions
of high artistic value to the collections of the
institution. Among these, the most impressive was the
statue of Jefferson from the chisel of the young Virginian,
Alexander Galt. The General Assembly had appropriated
ten thousand dollars for the execution of the
commission. The sculptor, before setting out for Florence,
where the work was to be done, obtained copies
of the different portraits of Jefferson, strolled about
Monticello and the University of Virginia to get a
vividly accurate conception of the statesman's surroundings
in life, conversed with his nearest surviving kinsmen,
and was so fortunate as to receive as a gift a suit of
his clothes. The statue which resulted was pronounced
by those who had seen Jefferson,—men like William

Wertenbaker and Thomas Jefferson Randolph,—to be
the most faithful effigy of his person in existence. Although
completed before war was precipitated, it was
not delivered into the University's possession until after
its close. In the meanwhile, the sculptor,—who had
served the cause of the Confederacy by drafting plats for
the military engineers, and preserving the likenesses of
Confederate leaders in portraits and busts,—had died
suddenly of small-pox while visiting the headquarters of
General Jackson in 1862.

The demand for the enlargement of the University
water-works arose almost on the threshold of the Seventh
Period, 1865–95. There had been constant apprehension
lest the insidious damage already inflicted on the
Rotunda and library by the leaking tanks on the dome
should end in a sudden and sweeping catastrophe to the
building and its contents. How could these dangerous
and uncouth receptacles be made unnecessary? It was
only by means of an abundant supply of water drawn
from a high altitude that they could be conveniently and
permanently dispensed with. In June, 1867, the future
proctor, Major Green Peyton, whose professional knowledge
as an expert engineer was now of extraordinary value
to the University, was employed to draw up an estimate of
the cost of constructing a dam in the stream on Observatory
Mountain at the greatest height practicable.
To this dam it was proposed to extend the existing main.
The rector was empowered to borrow ten thousand dollars
to defray the probable expense of the undertaking;
and this sum was subsequently added to. In December
of the same year, there was a conference with the
authorities of Charlottesville for the purpose of enlisting
their cooperation. By the spring of 1869, the new
works had been completed. An abundant supply of

water for the present was thus acquired, and the need
of the steam-engine which forced a stream into the tanks
was presumed to be terminated. The tanks, however,
not only remained untouched, but also in actual use as late
as 1884.

By 1880, the new supply had begun to give signs of
failure during Summer, and the proctor, in consequence,
was instructed to enlarge the reservoir. In anticipation
that a drought might cause the flow through the main
pipe to stop altogether, the cisterns, which had apparently
been closed and abandoned, were cleared out from
top to bottom and carefully repaired, and the conduits to
the roofs of the pavilions and dormitories opened up
fully again. So alarming became the condition of the
water supply in spite of this precaution, that the General
Assembly was compelled to make a large appropriation
for its improvement. An equally large sum was
granted at the same time for further modernizing the
drainage and sewerage of the precincts. In April, 1884,
forty thousand dollars of these two amounts combined
was deposited in the Bank of Charlottesville, to be paid
out as those important alterations advanced towards
completion

The need of cooperation between the town and the
University in erecting new water-works, to ensure a
permanent and adequate supply for both communities,
had become so pressing by 1885 that the authorities of
the two corporations, as authorized by Act of Assembly
of March, 1884, agreed to unite their resources. It
was estimated that the cost of the undertaking would fall
little short of ninety thousand dollars, of which imposing
sum the University was to contribute not less than fifteen
thousand. In return for the payment of this proportion
of the outlay, it was to be entitled to all the water

which could be drawn through a pipe of a size to be
agreed upon, which should distribute the diverted stream
through its grounds. The main conduit, which was to
run from the reservoir to the city, was to be ten inches in
diameter; and it was this great pipe that the smaller
University pipe was to tap. The current was to be
controlled altogether by the force of gravity.

During the years that succeeded the completion of the
work, the population of the town continued to augment.
With the ever rising demand for water at the urban end
of the line, the pressure on the contents of the University
pipe diminished, and the supply in consequence
fell below what was needed by the smaller community.
This led to the drafting of a new contract in January,
1892, by the provisions of which the University was empowered
to lay down a new pipe all the way to the reservoir,
without any connection whatever with the town
main. This new conduit was six inches in diameter, and
its construction entailed an expense of nearly seventeen
thousand dollars. A deficiency having again occurred
in 1896, the town put in a steam pump to force the
water from Reservoir Creek into its ten-inch main. The
University shared in this expense, and, as a compensation,
obtained a proportionate increase in the supply
for its own pipe.

In 1886, a fire broke out in pavilion 1, and but for
the town engines' promptness in responding to an urgent
call, that building probably would have burned down,
and the flames from it been spread to the Rotunda, by
way of the west front wing. The warning conveyed by
this suppressed conflagration suggested the purchase of
hose, reels, and extra piping, and the organization of a
fire company made up of the residents of the University
and its immediate neighborhood. Fire plugs were now

placed in the shadow of every large edifice on the grounds.
All these precautions led the Faculty to say, in their report
for the session of 1886–87, that "the present condition
of affairs assures a reasonable sense of security
against damage by fire "; but this feeling of comparative
immunity was shaken, in the following year, by the
discovery that the pressure in the water pipe would not
be sufficient, in case of a conflagration, large or small,
to drive even a stream of moderate volume to the roof
of the Rotunda. Indeed, it was now disclosed that some
of the plugs would, for the same reason, prove to be
unserviceable should they be suddenly tested in an emergency.
In order to have at hand the means of quenching
a fire at its birth, the Faculty recommended the purchase
of numerous extinguishers, with a capacity to throw
a jet of carbonic acid water a distance of at least fifty
feet. They also suggested that permission should be
obtained from the municipality of Charlottesville to insert
a water gate in the town main, for this would enable
the University fire company to divert the whole
supply, if necessary, to the hoses turned upon a burning
pavilion, dormitory, or lecture-hall. And it was largely
to put this company in a better position to fight a conflagration
that the right, already referred to, was acquired
to lay down an independent pipe line for the institution's
exclusive use. It will be perceived from these
different measures that both the Board and the Faculty
were always nervously apprehensive of the occurrence of
a fire; and that they revealed no disposition to neglect
the adoption of every available means of extinguishing
it, in case it should break out at any hour.

Gas had been satisfactorily used as an illuminant within
the precincts, during many years, when in March, 1888,
a committee was appointed by the Board of Visitors to

consider the expediency of introducing electrical lighting,
and as this report was in the affirmative, the authority
was, in the ensuing July, granted to a company of
local capitalists to erect the necessary wires within the
circle of the grounds. It was not until the session of
1900–1901 that an appropriation of ten thousand dollars
by the General Assembly enabled the University to
build an electric plant of its own.