University of Virginia Library

XIII. Removal of William and Mary College

While the claim against the Government was in a state of suspense, there arose before the watchful eyes of the two protagonists the prospect of securing an endowment fund in another quarter; and for some time, afterwards, their energies seemed to have been diverted from the

pursuit of a legislative appropriation. In a letter which Cabell wrote Jefferson from Williamsburg in May, 1824, there occurs the following curt but pregnant sentence: "A scheme is now in agitation at this place, the object of which is to remove the College of William and Mary to the City of Richmond." He acknowledged that, with the exception of the professor of law, every member of the Faculty favored the transfer. The College, in spite of the broadening of its courses of instruction, and the devotion and ability of President Smith, had been dwindling in prosperity, and it was expected that transplantation to Richmond, where a practical school of medicine, rendered possible by hospital facilities, could be engrafted on it, would arrest the progress of this decay, which threatened it with ultimate ruin. It was anticipated too that the new site in the capital of the State would restore some of that prestige which it had formerly derived from its location at the seat of Government.

The endowment of the College of William and Mary, at this time, was about one hundred thousand dollars, the largest fund in the possession of any institution situated in Virginia. So soon as he was informed of the design to remove the College to Richmond, it occurred to Cabell that this endowment fund might be taken from it, and laid out in the establishment of the series of intermediate academies which Jefferson had always advocated. "We were told some winters ago by the College party," he said, "'we do not want a university -we want preparatory seminaries over the whole face of the country.'" From this arbitrary attitude on his part, there was, for a moment, a generous revulsion of feeling. "To oppose an institution struggling to save itself," he remarked, "and to thwart the natural endeavors of literary men to advance their fortunes, is truly painful." Then the feeling

subsides, and loyalty to the supposed interests of the University comes back. "Are we," he adds, "to suffer the labors of so many years to be blasted by an unnecessary and destructive competition? Most assuredly, we mutt not."

Jefferson was very much startled by the project of transplanting the College. "It is a case of a pregnant character," he replied to Cabell, "admitting important issues, and requiring serious consideration and conduct." It is plain that, like Cabell, he looked upon the plan of removal as carrying in its bosom a very grave peril to the welfare of the University. How far was he really justified in taking this view? On its face, at least, the attitude of almost unscrupulous hostility which he now assumed towards the ancient College, his alma mater, in its hour of pecuniary difficulty, appears to be discreditable to himself and to the institution which he had founded in the noblest spirit of liberty and equality. What can be said in his defense? As we have seen, he had a very exaggerated conception of the advantages which a seat of learning would enjoy, if it were established in the capital of the State. Had Williamsburg remained that capital, he would have looked upon the College of William and Mary as a far more powerful rival to contend with than it was now, because it would, through that fact, have been able to retain its original dignity and influence. A university was an institution, which, in his opinion, bore a direct relation to the civic duties of the people, and where could this function of educating citizens be so fully carried out as on the spot where the central administration was at work? Remove the College of William and Mary to Richmond, and with its large permanent fund, it would soon recover its prestige, and the prosperity which it had lost when Williamsburg ceased to be the capital.

As Richmond was necessarily the first city of Virginia, so an old and highly endowed college, like the College of William and Mary, replanted there, must also become the first seat of learning in the State.

Jefferson, as revealed by the numerous quotations from his letters already given, was always apprehensive that something might occur which would lower the University of Virginia to the level of the two principal subordinate colleges of the Commonwealth, Washington and Hampden-Sidney. It was a practical feeling which caused him to be so solicitous for its prestige. This feeling had led him, apart from any appreciation of architectural beauty, to erect the splendid group of buildings at Charlottesville. Without such buildings, he believed that it would he hopeless to engage European professors of the first order of talents and learning, and without that cast of instructors, the institution, being young, would start without distinction. It was the same sort of far-sightedness that now caused him to oppose the removal of the College of William and Mary, for it seemed to foreshadow a new rivalry that might, in some measure, overcloud the dreams of greatness in which he indulged for his own university. Had the latter been underway, with a corps of foreign scholars lecturing to large classes, he would probably have accepted the thought of this future rivalry with far less acrimony, and shown more tolerance and magnanimity in anticipating it.

The apparently ungenerous and inconsistent spirit of hostility which he displayed perhaps had its origin, in a measure, in two additional reasons of a more definite character. Jefferson must have tacitly recognized, although he never directly admitted the fact, that one of the important deficiencies in the course of studies which he had projected for the University was the entire absence

of hospital facilities. Without those facilities, a medical school, independently of anatomy, must always remain principally an historical school, a school of theory, a descriptive rather than a practically illustrative school. Richmond, on the other hand, even in those times, offered the clinical advantages which the village of Charlottesville entirely lacked. Was not the University's medical school bound to sink at once to a subordinate position, should the College of William and Mary be put in possession of all the facilities for a practical medical education which that city abundantly afforded? A second, and perhaps as important a reason for his opposition, was to be discerned in the fact that the capital of the State was the home of John Marshall and of a coterie of Federalists of great distinction. Their influence, in time, might control the whole political spirit of the transplanted College, and thus be able to spread the poison of their dangerous principles of a centralized government throughout the atmosphere of Virginia and the South.

So soon as Jefferson had fully taken in the menace which he was convinced would follow the removal of the College, he began to devise the means to defeat the project, and in doing so, allowed no sense of loyalty or gratitude to his alma mater, no recollection of his own great principle of equal opportunities to all and special privileges to none, to shake his will or palsy his energy. In the fixity of his purpose, he did not stop at the mere frustration of the ancient College's plan of re-establishment elsewhere, but even aimed to destroy it on the very ground on which it stood by transferring its funds, in whole or in part, to his own seat of learning. "When it was found," he wrote to Cabell on May 16, 1824, "that that seminary was entirely ineffectual towards the object of public education, and that one on a better plan, and in a better situation,

must be provided, what was so obvious as to employ, for that purpose, the funds of the one abandoned, with what more was necessary to raise the new establishmen? And what so obvious as to do now what might reasonably have been done then, by consolidating the two institutions and their funds? . . . The hundred thousand dollars of principal which you say still remains to William and Mary, by its interest of $6,000, would give us the two deficient professors, with an annual surplus for the purchase of books."

Comprehending, perhaps, that it would be impolitic to show such a naked hand, Jefferson pressed upon Cabell the wisdom of "saying as little as possible on this whole subject." "Give them no alarm," he added; "let them petition for the removal, let them get the old structure completely on wheels, and not until then put in our claim." Seated under the serene roof of Monticello, at a remote distance from all the persons who were anxious for the change, and insensible to the memories of the youthful years spent in Williamsburg, he was not in a position, or the mood, to understand the weight of the influences, which, after awhile, made his coadjutor disposed to modify his attitude of hostility. As the months passed on, the transplantation became the subject of still hotter public debate; and Cabell was so much impressed by the arguments in its favor, that he informed Jefferson, in December, that he had decided to vote for the measure, provided that the College would consent to be brought under the control of the General Assembly. What did he mean by the expression, "control of the General Assembly"? Its purport, he said, was that the Assembly should have the power to "reduce the capital of the College, leaving a moiety here (Richmond), and transferring the residue to Winchester and Hampden-Sidney, or other points in

the State connected with the general system." "It would be utterly impracticable," he added, "to procure any portion for the University"; and he, with great earnestness, urged Jefferson to abandon "every such idea, if any plan of the kind had ever been formed."

The short interval of four days had hardly vanished before Cabell's views underwent again what he described as "a material change." He had, as we have just seen, contemplated a compromise, in order, as he expressed it, to avoid the appearance of illiberality. Subsequent reflection, he said, had convinced him that he ought to vote against the removal. In taking this course, he added, "I oppose the wishes of my nearest and dearest relatives and friends." Indeed, no one among them condemned this new decision with more, brusqueness and pungency than his own brother, William H. Cabell, a former Governor of the State, and during many years, the President of the Court of Appeals. His letter is worthy of reproduction in full as throwing a vivid light on the social penalties which Cabell was now inviting by his apparently unreasonable and inequitable loyalty to the supposed interests of the University. If his own brother could not restrain his impatience, it may be clearly perceived what a flood of censure he had to encounter from less kindly critics.

"Do you think it possible," wrote W. H. Cabell, "that Smith and Company (the President and Faculty of the College) can ever make the people of Virginia consider William and Mary, when removed, as the rival of the University? It would be as easy to believe that the frog could swell himself to the size of the ox. The indirect means which the friends of the University have been forced to adopt, in obtaining money from the Legislature, have excited strong hostility in many quarters against

them and the University. Here is a good opportunity of soothing the public mind by showing that there is no disposition to sacrifice everything to the University, but that the advancement of the cause of literature had been the real principle. The friends of William and Mary ask no money from the Legislature. They ask only that the College may be removed to a place where its present funds may be employed advantageously for the public, and I think, and all with whom I have conversed, think, advantageously to the University . . . . The short and long of the affair is that I really think it would ill become the friends of the University, who have got for that institution so much of the public money, now to oppose the wishes of a large portion of the State to remove another institution, already endowed, to a place where it will be made more useful to the public than it is now . . . . As a friend of the University, I would, if I were in the Assembly, aid the removal with all my heart, and I should be happy, if you could take the same view of the subject. I believe it would tend to remove some of those jealousies and heart burnings which your earnest zeal for the University, has, however unjustly, excited towards you. To oppose the removal is attributed to motives of interest, to that sort of feeling that actuated the dog in the manger, and to seize on the funds without the consent of the professors would be to abandon all respect for those laws which protect property . . . . I have taken up more time on this subject, because I have been much concerned at the strange lengths, as they seem to me, to which your zeal for the University has unknowingly carried you, -lengths to which, I believe, no man in the Commonwealth is willing to go, except, perhaps, a Visitor of the University, -lengths which excite the surprise and concern of all your friends."

Having finally determined to oppose the transplantation of the College, Cabell refused to yield to the remonstrances and reproaches of friends, and remained indifferent to the acrimony and obloquy of enemies. In this course, he was sustained by his repeated communications with Jefferson, who marshalled his arguments against the College, and in favor of the University, with consummate vigor and plausibility.

Jefferson seems to have taken it for granted that, even if the General Assembly should permit the College's removal, the funds in its possession would be distributed. As he looked at it, there was some benefit to be expected, no matter what should he the upshot of the controversy: if the College remained in Williamsburg, there would be no further cause for apprehension on the score of competition; if, on the other hand, it was re-established in Richmond, it should, in return, for the advantages of this new situation, give up the whole or, at least, the larger part of its endowment for the erection of the district academies. In his enthusiasm over the prospect of carrying out this part of his original plan of public instruction, by the use of the funds of the older institution, he seems to have accepted with philosophy Cabell's prediction that the University would not be directly benefited pecuniarily by the removal. He foresaw, in the creation of the academies, a full compensation for this, for he was confident that they would prove to be a means, not only of preparing students for entry into his own establishment, but also of raising up a well-informed body of yeomanry. "This occasion of completing our system of education is a god send," he exclaimed, "I certainly would not propose that the University should claim a cent of these funds in competition with the district colleges." This letter was shown to numerous members of the General Assembly.

Chapman Johnson promptly and emphatically denied the State's right, under the charter of the College, to dispose of the latter's funds as Jefferson had suggested. It was generally thought that, whether the Commonwealth possessed this right or not, a distribution, during that term, at least, would not be authorized by the Legislature. In the meanwhile, a resolution was submitted, but not pressed, that pointed out the supposed injustice of permitting the College's transfer to Richmond without forfeiting a portion of its endowment for the benefit of other sections of Virginia. Early in the session, Cabell reported that the College's petition was losing ground, but that there was no prospect as yet of the adoption of Jefferson's plan for the use of its funds. "This measure," he said, "was too bold for the present state of the public mind. We will not bring it forward as an original proposition, but should there be occasion, as a substitute for the measure of removal to this place. The hostile party . . . report that you have sent orders to the Assembly to plunder the College and bribe the different parts of the State."

Jefferson's sensibilities seemed to have been wounded by the animus rather than by the pertinency of this accusation. "The attempt," he replied, "in which I have embarked so earnestly, to procure an improvement in the moral condition of my native State, although in other States it may have strengthened good dispositions (towards me), it has certainly weakened them in my own. The attempt ran foul of so many local interests, of so many personal views, and of so much ignorance, and I have been considered as so particularly its promoter, that I see evidently a great change of sentiment towards myself . . . . It is from posterity we are to expect remuneration for the sacrifice we are making for their service, of

time, quiet, and present good will. And I fear not the appeal. The multitude of fine young men, who will feel that they owe to us the elevation of mind, of character and station they shall he able to attain from the result of our efforts, will ensure us their remembrance with gratitude."

The confidence with which Cabell had anticipated the failure of the College's petition was suddenly shaken by a change in the Assembly's attitude. In January (1825), he unexpectedly informed Jefferson that there was now an increasing danger that the advocates of removal would be able to obtain a decisive vote in their favor; but there was one device, he said, by which they could yet be thwarted, and this was to bring in a bill to appropriate the funds of the College to the establishment of the system of district academies. "Delay is all we want," he exclaimed, "so as to get the representatives of the people away from the Richmond parties, and to give the people the power to act. I beseech you to prepare a bill immediately and send it as quickly as possible by mail . . . . Let the funds be equally divided among the districts . whatever they may be. Give me but this bill, and I think I will yet defeat them."

Jefferson received this letter on January 21 (1825), and by the following evening, he had drafted the bill and deposited it in the post. "I am so worn down by the drudgery," he stated in enclosing it, "that I can write little now." By the 28th, it had reached Cabell's hands. "I shall keep it as private as possible," he replied, in acknowledging its arrival. "The opposite party are triumphing in anticipation, but I think we will yet defeat them." He now published a very able letter in the Constitutional Whig, over the signature of "A Friend to Science," in which he quoted at length from the Plan

for Public Education which had been drafted by Jefferson in 1817. The object of this was to be able, when the trap was sprung, to point out that the plan was not a new one, but had been matured some years before the question of removing the College to Richmond had come up, or the suggestion put forth of dividing its funds for the benefit of the district academies. He again admitted that the public mind was "not prepared for so bold a measure "; "but," he added, "if I am not mistaken, it will enable us to defeat the scheme of removal."

His prediction turned out to be correct, for, on February 7, he was able to announce that the College's petition had been denied by a majority of twenty-four votes. "But," said he, no doubt to Jefferson's keen disappointment, "our friends and myself concur in thinking that it would be improper to bring in the bill for dividing the funds of the College . . . . My friends assure me that the essay under the signature of "A Friend to Science," with the extracts from your letter and bill . . . broke the ranks of the opposition completely . . . . Richmond is now hors de combat." This was the end of the controversy. The College of William and Mary remained on its original site, and the bill for the distribution of its funds, which had been used as such a powerful instrument to prevent its removal, was not again revived. There is no just ground for supposing that, had the ancient College been re-planted in Richmond, it would have become a ruinous competitor of the University. It had a moral and a legal right alike to establish itself there, and the part which Jefferson and Cabell took in balking that right, forms the only chapter in the which is darkened by the spirit of an illiberal and ungenerous policy, -a policy, indeed, only relieved from the taint of positive unscrupulousness by the fact that

it was dictated, not by personal selfishness, but by the supposed welfare of a great institution, struggling to get upon its feet, in the midst of numerous influences destructive, not simply of its success, but of its very existence.

The Committee on Claims in the House of Represenatives had recommended the payment of the interest due the State of Virginia on advances made during the War of 1812-15, but the majority in favor was only one, and Jefferson, in February, 1826, admitted that it had still a long gauntlet to run before it could pass the House itself. In the meanwhile, however, the rents from the dormitories and other buildings offered the supplementary resource needed for the expenses of the moment.

So far unable to secure the approval of the interest claim by Congress, and hesitating to go to the Legislature for an independent appropriation while that measure was pending, both Cabell and Jefferson heartily favored the resuscitation of Jefferson's Bill for Public Education, drafted in 1817-18. The Garland bill, now before the General Assembly, authorized the establishment of twenty-four district colleges; but the Jefferson bill was considered by Cabell to be preferable, provided that it should be so altered that the local districts would be required to contribute at their own expense the land and buildings that would be needed. Under the terms of this bill, should it become law, the University would acquire from $25,000 to $32,000, which would be sufficient to complete the Rotunda and Anatomical Hall. This indirect measure for obtaining money for the institution, however, ended in disappointment, for the State was not yet ripe for any broad and costly scheme of public instruction.

In addition to the appropriations by the General Assembly, a very considerable sum was collected from the persons who had signed the original subscription list.

We referred, in the history of Central College, to the large amount which was promised by the friends of learning in many parts of the State for the erection of that institution. As the time for the payment of these contributions was spread over several years, most of the instalments only matured after the incorporation of the University. On November 23, 1822, the balance still due was estimated at $18,440. By September, 1823, $4,828.77 of this sum had been paid in; $2,069.88 more was collected by September, 1824; $2,734.89 by September, 1825; and $644.85 by September, 1826. The residue outstanding on September 30 of that year was $8,161.68. So long as there were other funds available for the building, the Board of Visitors determined that it would be inexpedient to press those among the subscribers who were delinquent; but when there arose a danger of these obligations lapsing, an agent was employed to collect the remaining sums. In the end, of the $43,808 originally subscribed, only $4,500 proved to be desperate, and a large proportion of this had become so only because some of the subscribers had emigrated to other States or had sunk into insolvency. The Board had considered it unwise to base on the last collections any stipulations which required punctuality in their fulfilment. They had reserved this money while still unpaid as a supplementary and contingent fund, to form a part of the general revenue as it dribbled in, and only to he used in covering up errors in estimating the cost of particular buildings.