University of Virginia Library

VIII. The Building of the Rotunda

The various details dwelt upon in the preceding chapter
are pertinent only to the pavilions, dormitories, and
hotels. The Rotunda was not only separate from these
edifices in a physical way, but the history of its construction
is equally distinct from theirs. Most of the buildings
of the University were erected simultaneously, and
all were practically completed before the excavations began
for the foundations of the dominating edifice. In the
earliest scheme, it will be recalled, the pavilions were
to be placed on each of the three lines forming the
boundaries of the first plat; and there were to be twenty
dormitories attached to each pavilion. When it was decided
to raise an imposing structure in the middle of the
north line, this scheme was altered,—instead of the original
number of pavilions and dormitories to be erected on
the east and west lines respectively, it was necessary now
to build five pavilions, with ten dormitories attached to
each.

Although the Rotunda, the central feature of the beautiful
architectural setting of the University, seems to have
had, in its main lines at least, its germ with Latrobe, yet
in the shape which the suggestion, once dropped in Jefferson's
mind, finally took, that building was more distinctly
characteristic of his classical taste than any other
standing on the ground. It must have been as perceptible

to him as to Thornton and Latrobe that a stately edifice
rising on this conspicuous site would enhance the imposing
aspect of the whole group; and it is quite probable that,
—in the beginning at least,—when there was so slim a
prospect of the College ever becoming a university, his
omission of such a structure was due, as already intimated,
to the dictation of economy. It is easy to conceive of
the artistic delight which he must have felt in planning
for such a building; and it was due to him alone, apparently,
that the Pantheon was adopted as the model.
That temple was considered by many to be the noblest
specimen of the architecture of antiquity surviving to the
present day; and it was reproduced with perfect fidelity
in the plates of Palladio, so well known to Jefferson.

This famous building was in the form of a cylinder
surmounted by a hemisphere. The exterior walls were
of concrete, faced with brick and marble. The dome was
of concrete also, with a bronzed outer surface and a
gilded ceiling. Sixteen granite columns, crowned by Corinthian
capitals of marble, upheld the weight of the
portico. A row of fluted marble pillars ran around the
circumference of the great apartment, while the interior
walls were covered with variegated marbles, upon which,
and upon the floor, shone the rays of the sun falling
through a circular orifice in the top of the dome.

In reproducing this splendid edifice, Jefferson was compelled
to use the humble materials of brick and mortar instead
of brick and concrete; plaster and white-wash instead
of a marble facing; tin plates instead of bronze
tiles. In one detail, however, the building in imitation is
superior to the one copied. The masterpiece of Agrippa
is approached by only five steps, a condition that imparts
a squat appearance to the structure looked at from the
front. The Rotunda, on the other hand, is approached

by fourteen steps, which to the eye lifts it up from the
ground, and imparts to it a lighter and loftier aspect.
By thus elevating the floor of its portico, the height of its
cylindrical dome was so far increased as to be equal in
degree to the diameter. This diameter is one half of
the Pantheon's in extent, and the area of the edifice is
about one fourth more contracted than that of its prototype.
At first, it was Jefferson's design, as already
stated, to lay off a lawn on either side of the Rotunda, but
low-roofed gymnasia were afterwards substituted for
them,—not perhaps because they enhanced the beauty
of the central building, but more probably because the
space was too valuable to be left in a purely ornamental
state.

The Rockfish Gap Report recommended that the Rotunda
should contain apartments for religious worship and
public examinations, and also for instruction in music,
drawing, and similar studies, but that the section of it
which would be immediately under the dome should be
reserved for the storage of books. That the latter was
the principal end which the building was expected to subserve
was demonstrated by the fact that, in the successive
reports of the Visitors, it is ordinarily designated as the
"Library." There was no provision for numerous lecture-rooms
in the proposed structure, the explanation of
which lay, of course, in the assignment of halls for that
purpose in the pavilions; but after the edifice was finished,
the little use which could be made of the apartments below
the highest floor for the objects for which they were
intended,—there being no demand for music and drawing
lessons, and the examinations taking place only at
long intervals,—led to the shifting of the lecture-rooms
from the pavilions, where they caused so much domestic
awkwardness,—to these vacant apartments in the Rotunda.

The first step towards this was the order of
the Board of Visitors that the rooms should be kept for
such schools as were attended by so many students that
they could not be conveniently accommodated in a pavilion
lecture-hall; and on the same occasion, an apartment
in the basement was fixed upon as the future chemical
laboratory.[11]

There were not sufficient funds on hand, during the
early period of construction, to permit of the erection of
so large and costly an edifice as the Rotunda. In April,
1821, the Board of Visitors ordered the committee of
superintendence to refrain from entering into any contract
for its building until they were fully satisfied that the expenditure
"on its account would not interfere with the
completion of the pavilions, dormitories, and hotels," the
erection of which had either begun or would soon begin.
This made it impossible to start upon its actual construction
before the General Assembly had appropriated a
large sum for that purpose. It was not until October 7,
1822, indeed, that the proctor was told to stipulate with
"skilful and responsible undertakers" for its erection
according to the provisions of the plan already in his possession.
Cocke, as a member of the committee of superintendence,
had criticized the disjointedness of the terms

in accord with which the pavilions, dormitories, and hotels
had been built, and he now begged Cabell to support
him in the resolution "not to permit the last grand building
to be carried on in the loose and undefined manner as
to the contracts, which, in the previous parts of the work,
had been productive of so much disappointment to us, and
had been the just cause of so much dissatisfaction to the
public." The persons who, in the beginning, submitted
bids were either too lacking in capital to dispense with the
aid of advances by the University, or they demanded a
fifty per cent. increase in the figures of their estimates.
Neither Jefferson nor the proctor,—perhaps, from
Cocke's warning,—thought it judicious to accept any offer
on these conditions, and for that reason, the Rotunda
was practically erected, piece by piece and stage by stage,
by the University itself, instead of being turned over in
the end to the Board of Visitors, an edifice completed but
still one to be paid for.

Among the builders of the Rotunda were Thorn and
Chamberlain, to whom were assigned the brickwork; for
which they were required to furnish the mortar; and
they also agreed to bring on trained men from Philadelphia
for the actual bricklaying. Thorn received a wage
of fifty dollars a month for overlooking the manufacture
of the bricks, since most of this material was made in
the University kiln by hired labor. From a letter written
in February to Cocke by Neilson, we learn that Jefferson
was full "of brickmaking ideas at present," which
clearly indicates how minute was the supervision which he
gave even to so ordinary a detail. Dinsmore and Neilson
were the principal agents in carrying through the
carpenters' and joiners' tasks for the new building; but
the lumber, in this instance, as in that of the brick, was
furnished at the University's expense, although the firm

made all the purchases; and it was also held responsible
for the accuracy of the bricklaying.[12] The charges for
measuring all the building work periodically as it went
forward were borne in equal shares by the University
and the contractors.

On July 4, Jefferson was able to write to Cabell, in a
spirit of unrepressed exultation, that the Rotunda "was
rising nobly." In the course of 1823 not less than thirty
persons, whether or not regularly engaged in business,
supplied the different articles that were required for this
building, such as lime, lumber, dressed plank, shingles,
hardware and iron; and there were almost uncountable
bills for hauling as well as for providing food for man
and beast employed in its construction. The persons who
furnished the principal materials were the same as those
who had furnished the like for the pavilions, dormitories,
and hotels. For instance, three hundred thousand bricks,
in addition to those burnt in the University kiln, were
purchased of John M. Perry.

The most admirable features of the Rotunda were the
ornate capitals and bases. In September, 1823, Jefferson
and Cocke, as the committee of superintendence, entered
into a contract with Giacomo Raggi, which obliged
him to obtain in person in Italy for that edifice ten Corinthian
and two pilaster bases of Carrara marble. He
was to receive sixty-five dollars for each of the Corinthian,
and thirty-two dollars and fifty cents for each of the
pilaster,—one half of which sums was to be paid before
the bases were dumped on shipboard at Leghorn, and the
other half afterwards. Raggi had spent his hours of
leisure in carving numerous articles in alabaster marble,
and these he hoped to sell privately for his own profit;

but so improvident had he been, in spite of a high wage,
that, in leaving for Richmond by coach on his way to
Italy, he was compelled to ask for an advance of fifty
dollars from the proctor to settle his tavern bill on his
expected departure from that city, and also to cover the
cost of his ocean passage. The contract proved to be
futile and valueless, for while Raggi seems to have gone
to Leghorn with the purpose of carrying it out, he failed,
—no doubt from impecuniosity,—in fulfilling what had
been required of him. The marbles were finally procured
with the assistance of Thomas Appleton, and, in
the course of 1825, were sent over in two vessels, one of
which made port at Boston, and the other at New York.
When he informed the proctor of the arrival of the ship
at Boston, General Dearborn, the Collector of Customs,
who had been the Secretary of War in Jefferson's Cabinet,
and who, from this fact, was interested in the University,
repeated Mr. Appleton's statement to him that
the capitals "would be found probably superior in dimensions,
but certainly equal in architectural perfection to any
in the United States"; and that they were copies of those
which adorned the Pantheon at Rome. There were
twenty-four ponderous cases, and Dearborn recommended
that a petition should be addressed to Congress to
admit them free of duty. As the custom charges would
run as high as $2,057.15, exemption from payment would
save a large amount that might be applied to some useful
purpose. There seems to have been two consignments
unloaded at New York: one, of six cases; the other,
by a different vessel, the Caroline, of thirty-one.

The marbles were transported to Richmond from Boston
and New York by vessel, and there turned over to
Colonel Bernard Peyton, the agent of the University, who
seems to have looked upon the responsibility of taking

care of them as a very clumsy and perplexing burden.
So prodigiously heavy were the capitals and bases that it
was found very arduous to transfer them from the dock
to the canal basin, from which the batteaux plying up the
James set out. They weighed from three to five tons,
and the question arose: were the boats wide and staunch
enough to take them on board without risk? They were
finally carried up the river and unloaded at Scottsville,
and from that village were borne by wagons to the University.
It required the services of a very capable overseer
to bring about their safe delivery; and such was Lyman
Peck, who superintended their removal on board the
batteaux, their passage up stream, and finally their conveyance
overland. Several weeks were consumed in accomplishing
the entire task after the marbles had left
the Richmond wharf. It was not until April 19, 1826,
six months at least after their arrival in the dock there,
that Colonel Peyton was able to report that, before the
end of the ensuing week, the last capital would have been
forwarded by water. Already the marbles which had
reached the University were in the course of being put in
their appointed places.

Jefferson died on July 4, 1826. A few days before he
was forced to take to his bed with his fatal illness, he
visited the University, and in the final glimpse which we
have of him within the precincts of the institution to which
he had given up all his thoughts and energies in his old
age, he is seen seated and looking out through a window
on the Lawn to watch the workingmen as they raised a
capital to the top of the column at the southwest corner
of the portico. So oblivious was he of all besides that
he had unconsciously remained standing until Mr. Wertenbaker
silently brought him a chair. It seems very appropriate
that his last association in his own person with

the university which he loved so absorbingly should have
been with the noblest of all its buildings.

Dinsmore and Neilson were sometimes disposed to act
impatiently in their intercourse with the Faculty. They
were pointedly complained of, on one occasion, as replying
offensively when they were asked to provide shelves
for the books in the galleries of the library. Certain
stairways of this apartment had not yet been finished,
and these builders resented the suggestion that the work
should be hastened on this part at the expense of other
parts equally important, although many volumes thereby
might have been made accessible for use at an earlier
date. Nor did they concern themselves about the deafening
noise raised by their tools. Dinsmore was requested
to remove a workingman whose hammer rendered
it impossible for one of the professors to go on
with his lecture; the only answer from him, according to
the report of the Faculty, was "a gross insult in the presence
of the class." What he had said was, no doubt,
true enough at that time; namely, that "the professors
had no business in the building," and it seems to have
been this fact alone that had caused him to threaten, with
a fierce oath, "to turn them all out." It is quite probable
that the inconveniences of the lecture-halls in the
pavilions had proved so irksome to the teachers,—not
to bring in their wives,—that some of them had been
forced to take refuge in the half-finished lecture-rooms of
the Rotunda, to the natural discomposure of both Dinsmore
and Neilson, who were endeavoring to hurry forward
its completion.

In October, 1826, the noble apartment reserved for
the library was on the point of being finished; only a
flight of steps and the laying of the marble flags on the
floor of the portico were thereafter wanting to complete

the whole building. The adjacent gymnasia, however,
were still in the course of construction. In November,
the proctor was able to announce that the Rotunda, although
the work on it was not entirely concluded, was
in actual use; and that the professor of chemistry was
now in possession of two rooms on the floor below. A
third room was used for the purpose of both chemistry
and natural history; and there was, in addition, a large
lecture-room. There were still to receive the last touches
one large and one small oval room, as well as the general
entrance hall. It was not until 1832 that the stone
steps were finally erected, but, in the meanwhile, wooden
ones had certainly been in use as a temporary substitute.
So defective did the fireplaces, by 1827, turn out to be,
that the Faculty, in disgust, petitioned the Board to set
up stoves, and the ingenuity of Bonnycastle was sharply
tested to find a remedy for the smoking chimneys.