University of Virginia Library

I. Rockfish Gap Commission

It was on February 21, 1818, that the bill for the establishment
of a State university received the final approval
of the General Assembly. The clause providing for the
choice of the site was vague and general: it simply required
that it should be "convenient and proper"; and
as these words left a broad field for selection, the decision
was really reserved for a Board of twenty-four Commissioners.
This Board was to be appointed, not by the
President and Directors of the Literary Fund, but by
the Governor and Council. Cabell used his influence to
have this latter method adopted because he looked upon
it as the first important step towards the designation of
Charlottesville as the site; for was not the Governor a
citizen of Albemarle, and in picking out the Commissioners
might he not be biassed by that fact to nominate men
known to be friendly to the selection of Central College?

But there was another fact quite as auspicious: a Commissioner
was to be chosen from each senatorial district,
and the districts situated east of the Blue Ridge were
more numerous than those lying west. With the rivalry
narrowed down to Staunton, Lexington, and Charlottesville,
the local partizanship of the eastern majority would
probably tip the scale on the side of Charlottesville even
should the Commissioners from beyond the mountains,

who were in the minority, cast their votes as a body in
favor of a western site.

But Cabell was not satisfied with creating all these
propitious conditions in advance: he was acutely solicitous
that Jefferson should serve as a member of the Board;
and that he should induce Madison to consent to his appointment
also. The influence of these two distinguished
men, Cabell rightly anticipated, would carry extraordinary
weight with their associates. Deeply interested as
Jefferson was in the approaching conference, he debated
with hesitation for some time the wisdom of his becoming
a Commissioner. "There are fanatics both in religion
and politics," he said in reply to Cabell, "who,
without knowing me personally, have long been taught to
consider me as a rawhead and bloody bones; and as we can
afford to lose no votes in that body (General Assembly),
I do think that it would be better for you to be named
for our district. Do not consider this to be a mock modesty.
It is the cool and deliberate act of my own judgment.
I believe that the institution would be more popular
without me than with me, and this is the most important
consideration, and I am confident that you would
be a more efficient member of the Board than I would be."
Cabell submitted Jefferson's candid suggestion of his own
unfitness to a parley of their friends, who decided unanimously
and wisely in favor of Jefferson's nomination as
the Commissioner of the Albemarle district. Madison
was appointed for the Orange district. Their fellows on
the Board were men of substance, distinction, and influence.
The full membership of that body embraced Creed
Taylor, of Cumberland, Peter Randolph, of Dinwiddie,
William Brockenbrough, of Henrico, Archibald Rutherford
of Rockingham, Archibald Stuart, of Augusta, James
Breckinridge, of Botetourt, Henry E. Watkins, of Charlotte,

James Madison, of Orange, A. T. Mason, of Loudoun,
Hugh Holmes, of Frederick, Philip C. Pendleton,
of Berkeley, Spencer Roane, of Hanover, James M. Taylor,
of Montgomery, John G. Jackson, of Harrison,
Thomas Wilson, of Monongahela, Philip Slaughter, of
Culpeper, W. H. Cabell, of Buckingham, N. H. Claiborne,
of Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, of Albemarle, W.
A. G. Dade, of Prince William, William Jones, and four
other Commissioners, who sent word that they were unable
to be present to take part in the deliberations. But
it was remarked at the time that the absentees represented
that part of the State which had always been loyal
to the College of William and Mary.

The specific duty imposed on this Board by the Legislature
was to report to that body (1) a site for the University;
(2) a plan for the building of it; (3) the
branches of learning which should be taught therein; (4)
the number and character of the professorships; and (5)
such general provisions for the organization and government
of the institution as the General Assembly ought to
adopt. All these requirements were precisely in harmony
with Jefferson's wishes, and they had quite probably
been indirectly, through Cabell, proposed by him.
An additional clause in the Act,—which, no doubt, caused
him equal satisfaction, as increasing the chance of Central
College winning the coveted prize,—authorized the
Board to "receive any voluntary contributions, whether
conditional or absolute, in land, money, or other property,
which may be offered through them to the President
and Directors of the Literary Fund for the benefit of
the University."

On Saturday, August 1, the Commissioners assembled
at the Rockfish Gap in the Blue Ridge Mountains. This
spot had been selected as lying on the great natural line

of division between the western and eastern sections
of Virginia; and as the Gap was crossed by a public road
that was very much frequented, and was near the centre of
the State, it could be reached by an equality of exertion
from the Potomac and the Carolina border, from Chesapeake
Bay and the Ohio River. In our own age of
rapid, easy, and constant transit by steam, it is difficult to
take in fully the inconveniences and discomforts which
all the Commissioners had to endure in order to attend
the Conference. There were lines of stages, it is true,
running from Richmond to Western Virginia, and from
Lynchburg to Washington, or the reverse, but it was necessary
for many of the Commissioners who were not travelling
in their own carriages to go some distance before
they could connect with one of these cumbrous public
coaches. After it had been caught at some small roadside
tavern, a journey of two days was required, in some
instances, before the Gap could be reached. The rough
jolting, the deep stallings, the blinding dust, and the inclement
weather, which was so often encountered in these
primitive vehicles, must have been irksome and fatiguing
to men already past their prime. General Breckinridge,
of Botetourt, Mr. Claiborne, of Franklin, and Mr. Taylor,
of Montgomery, who were compelled to come all the
way from the Southwest, or Judge Cabell, Judge Creed
Taylor, or Mr. Watkins, from the equally remote Southside,
quite probably traversed the intervening ground in
their own carriages, driven by their own servants. Mr.
Holmes, of Frederick, Judge Jackson, of Harrison, Mr.
Pendleton, of Berkeley, and Mr. Wilson, of Monongahela,
were able to make the journey more easily, whether
by stage or private coach, since good turnpikes had been
constructed through the Alleghanies and down the Valley;
but not so with those whose homes were situated
east, south, or north of Charlottesville, for, in these
regions of the State, the roads were often in a condition of
aboriginal imperfection. August was chosen as the
month for the Conference, not only because the weather
was certain to be then at its best, and the highways more
passable, but also because the larger number of the persons
to attend it were judges or lawyers, who, during that
month, were in the habit of taking their annual vacation.
This too was the time of the year when the mountain
resorts were most visited, and some of the Commissioners,
following their annual custom, could, after participating
in the Conference, continue their journey to the Sulphur,
the Hot, or the Sweet Springs.

There was not within the bounds of the Commonwealth
a more romantic prospect than the one which was unrolled
before the gaze of the Commissioners as they climbed up
from the side of the Valley or of Piedmont to the tavern
that stood in the Gap. Here, towards the north and towards
the south alike, the peaks of the chain rose to a
cloudy height; and far below, in every direction of the
compass, the region spread out like a gigantic map,—
the great Valley on the one hand, and on the other, a
landscape broken by foothills, plateaus, forests, streams,
and cultivated lands, as far as the eye could reach. The
country, in this double picture, promised in its extensiveness
and in its fertility even more than it, at this time, actually
possessed, for it was still only sparsely inhabited
in comparison with the surface of the Old World. The
little company of thoughtful men, who, on the first
day of August, 1818, looked down on that wide panorama,
from the green mountain flanks, might justifiably
enough have been meditating more on its future than on
its present, in associating it, and all the territory beyond,
with the university which they were about to define in

character and fix in site. Where they saw an hundred
people now, there would be a thousand tomorrow; and
they were not too sanguine in anticipating that the seat
of learning which they were about to locate, would shed
its kindly light, either directly or indirectly, over them all
for centuries.

But if the magnificence of the views from these mountain
heights was in harmony with the noble enterprise
which they had come to launch, the actual place of meeting
was plain and democratic enough to suit the birthplace
of a popular university. It was a tavern, spacious and
comfortable, but like all its fellows of that day lacking
in pretension to even the simplest elements of architectural
beauty. Around it, however, there must have been
always a scene of extraordinary liveliness, for the regular
stages, private carriages, and the jingling caravans of
canvas-covered wagons, with their ribbon-bedecked teams,
passing in a broken stream eastward and westward, halted
there to allow the horses to be fed or watered, and the
travelers to breakfast or to dine. This customary animation
was conspicuously increased by the arrival of the
Commissioners, so many of whom had brought with them
their own coaches and servants. Never, indeed, before
had there been such a throng of distinguished citizens
under its roof.

There has been handed down the tradition that the
first session of the Conference was held in the large public
dining-room, an apartment which possessed no other
pieces of furniture besides a long, rough table and numerous
well-worn split-bottom chairs, such as were then in
common use in the log-huts of the mountaineers. Jefferson,
the most eminent member of the Board, was
promptly chosen to preside; and it was, perhaps, in some
measure, due to his moderate and urbane spirit that the

proceedings were, from start to finish, characterized by
so much smoothness and harmony. There was a sharp
antagonism in the views advanced as to the proper site
for the new university, but no bitterness entered into this
diversity of opinion; or if it really existed below the
surface, it was held in check by the silent force of the
quiet and impartial bearing of the chairman, who, as all
were aware, was so earnestly in favor of Charlottesville's
selection, and yet who did not permit an opposing partizanship
in others present to ruffle his temper or to color
his decisions. "If any undue influence (in favor of
Central College), was exercised," Judge T. G. Jackson,
the Commissioner from the Harrison district, has recorded,
"there certainly never was an instance of greater
forbearance or moderation in its exercise. Mr. Jefferson
did not even intimate a wish at any time or in any
shape except when his name was called and his vote
given."[1]

The choice to be made did not concern simply the welfare
of literature and education. Had that been the sole
issue, the dignity of it would have explained the self-restraint
shown in the discussions of the body; but there was
an inflammatory political question involved, which was
known to all, whether or not frankly mentioned and discussed,
for every man present was convinced that the
choice of a site for the University would give a powerful
bias to the choice of a site for the new Capital, should
the General Assembly determine to abandon Richmond
as it had formerly deserted Williamsburg. The antagonism
which such a thought was so calculated to raise did

not crop up in word or act; and there was apparently a
common desire, even in pushing individual and sectional
preferences, to do so in a spirit, and in a manner, worthy
of the great purpose which had brought them together.
The first day of the session seems to have been given
up to a debate on the advantages which each of the
three places canvassed,—Staunton, Washington College,
and Central College,—possessed as a site for the
projected university. It was admitted by all that there
was no difference in the fertility and salubrity of the respective
regions in which they were situated; the decision,
therefore, rested upon the two vital points: (1) which
of the three could offer the most opulent inducements
in the way of buildings and endowments; and above all,
(2) which of the three was nearest to the centre of the
State. If any proposal was made in the name of Staunton
by her representative, Judge Archibald Stuart, it
was only done in the form of a promise of a future appropriation
of money and land; but Washington College
and Central College alike were in a position at once to
contribute substantially, in both buildings and endowments,
to the new institution, should either be chosen
as its site. Washington College offered to transfer one
hundred shares in the stock of the James River Company,
the thirty-one acres on which its buildings were
standing, its philosophical apparatus, its expected interest
in the funds of the Cincinnati Society, the libraries
of its two debating societies, and three thousand dollars
in cash. In addition, the people of Lexington at large
gave their bond to contribute the sum of $17,878. But
a more valuable donation still was the estate of 3,331
acres of agricultural land, twenty-two acres of suburban
property, fifty-seven slaves, and all his remaining personalty,
which John Robinson, a citizen of Rockbridge,
would convey to the President and Directors of the Literary
Fund for the benefit of the university after his
death, should Washington College be preferred.

The offer submitted by the Central College was also
an imposing one. It consisted of its entire possessions:
the one hundred and ninety acres purchased of Perry; a
pavilion and its dormitories "already far advanced";
a second pavilion also, with its appendix of dormitories,
which was to be completed before the end of the year;
the proceeds in hand of the sales of two glebes, aggregating
$3,280.86, and of a subscription list of $41,248.
The whole of this last amount had not yet been collected,
and it was also subject to deductions for sums due under
existing contracts. A deed conveying these several properties
to the Literary Fund had already been executed
and recorded in the clerk's office of Albemarle county.

The value of the estate offered by Washington College
as compared with the value of the one offered by
Central College,—had the difference between the two
been accepted as the final test in the choice of a site,—
would have given the superior claim to the institution
in which Jefferson was so zealously interested. But he
was not satisfied to rest his chances of winning the prize
on this foundation alone; the query in the minds of the
Commissioners which he knew was to shape their decision
more powerfully than any other was this: which
of the three sites lies nearest to the centre of the State's
population? Having fully anticipated this controlling
point, he came amply fortified with statistics to uphold his
contention in favor of Central College. It required little
shrewdness on his part to foresee that Lexington, and
not Staunton, was the formidable rival which had to be
overthrown, for Lexington alone of the two had substantial
advantages in buildings and endowments to offer

at once. The information which he was now to use so
effectively had been collected with characteristic comprehensiveness
and minuteness: through Alexander Garrett,
he had written to each court clerk in Virginia, and from
him obtained a statement of the distance of his countyseat
from some well known town in the State, whilst additional
facts relating to transportation, highways, and
population had been gathered up from the same or similar
obscure but reliable sources. With this mass carefully
sifted and skilfully arranged to guide him, he had
patiently and industriously constructed a large map, which
indicated alike the geographical centre of the State and
the centre of its population. This map was the most
esteemed part of his baggage in his journey to Rockfish
Gap.

During the progress of the debate which sprang up on
the subject of centrality the first day, Jefferson sat in
silent attention to it until the arguments on that point for
and against Staunton, Washington College, and Central
College had caused such confusion in the minds of the
Commissioners that they appeared entirely incapable of
arriving at an accurate and common conclusion. It was
at this critical moment that he modestly drew forth that
innocent-looking blunderbus, his map, and quietly spread
it out for the inspection of the body.[2] While the vote
was not taken at this sitting, there is reason to think that
the evidence, so unostentatiously presented in this
graphic form, proved so unanswerable that it brought
about the decision announced a few days afterwards.

What did the map demonstrate? First, that, if a
straight line was drawn from the mouth of the Chesapeake

Bay to the Ohio River, by way of Central College,
Rockfish Gap, and Staunton, there would be a difference
of only 15,000 individuals between the population south
and the population north of its course. On the other
hand, the number of persons inhabiting the region north
of a line drawn from the same point through Lexington
to the Ohio River was 91,009 in excess of the number
residing south of that line. There were 150,121 more
white people to be found to the east of a line drawn from
south to north along the crest of the Blue Ridge than
were to be found to the west of it. Draw the like north
and south line through Staunton, and the numerical superiority
in favor of the east would be 221,733. Draw
it again through Lexington, and the eastern majority
would be 175,191. If, however, it was drawn through
Central College, the majority would be only 36,315. In
other words, whether the line was drawn from east to
west, or south to north, through Central College, the
numerical difference between the two sections of the divided
population would approach nearest to equality.[3]
On the other hand, if the decision was to be governed by
a comparison of distances, then the argument in its favor
was quite as strong, according to the figures of the same
necromantic map. From Staunton to the boundary line
of North Carolina, as the crow would fly, was one
hundred and twelve and a half miles, and from Staunton
to the Potomac, one hundred and ten,—a difference of
two and a half miles. In the case of Lexington, the difference
between the two like reaches was fifty-two and
a half miles. On the other hand, the difference in the
case of Central College was only eleven and a half miles,
—about nine miles more than marked the situation of
Staunton, but forty-one and a half miles less than distinguished
that of Lexington. It was Lexington, not
Staunton, which caused Jefferson the most serious apprehension,
and it was the pretension of Washington College
that he was really aiming to prick.

There has long been a tradition that, besides securing
these convincing statistics in support of his claims for
Central College, he hunted down the name of every man
and woman in Albemarle county, who had passed their
eightieth mile-stone, and presented the list, which was of
extraordinary length, to the Conference as a proof that
the salubrity of its climate was as productive of Methuselahs
as ancient Judea. Doubtless, some jocularity was
excited by the reading of this list, but it did not strike
the less straight to its mark because of that genial accompaniment.

After carefully examining the map, the Commissioners
agreed to defer their decision as to the site from Saturday
until Monday, and in the meanwhile, a very distinguished
committee was appointed to draw up the statement
required by the General Assembly touching the plan
of the buildings, the courses of instruction, the number of
professors, and the provisions for organization and government.
Its members were Thomas Jefferson, James
Madison, General Breckinridge, Judges Roane, Stuart,
and Dade. Now, there was not in Virginia, at this time,
an equal number of men more competent to draft the
necessary recommendations within a period of forty-eight
hours than these seven Commissioners; but the principal
contents of the report that was submitted would seem to
prove that it had been composed by the brain of Jefferson
alone,—not under the roof of the tavern where they
were assembled, but in the philosophical and stimulating
quiet of Monticello. No doubt, the manuscript of most

of its clauses had accompanied the map to Rockfish Gap,
under cover of the same portmanteau stored away in the
boot of his carriage. If any amendments to these particular
parts were offered by members of the committee,
no record of that fact has survived; and all had probably
too much discernment to think that any change would improve
the substance of that remarkable document.

At least two additions to it, however, were made after
Jefferson's arrival on the ground: first the offer of the
Board of Trustees of Washington College and the provisional
donation by John Robinson; and second, the insertion
of the name of Central College as the place finally
adopted as the site for the projected university. This decision
was reached in the course of the meeting of the
Commissioners on Monday. When the votes were
counted, it was found that Breckinridge, Pendleton, and
John M. Taylor had expressed a preference for Lexington;
Stuart and Wilson for Staunton; and the remainder
of the Commissioners for Charlottesville. The selection
of the latter site was then unanimously confirmed, in a
spirit of harmony worthy of the highest demands of popular
education, which all were anxious to advance in spite
of natural local aspirations. A conciliatory attitude had
distinguished the members of the Conference throughout
their deliberations, upon which Jefferson commented in
feeling language at the close. Adjournment did not take
place until Tuesday, August 4. In the meanwhile, the
report had been read and adopted.