THE WRITINGS OF THOMAS JEFFERSON Definitive Edition CONTAINING HIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY, NOTES ON VIRGINIA, PARLIAMENTARY MANUAL, OFFICIAL PAPERS, MESSAGES AND ADDRESSES, AND OTHER WRITINGS, OFFICIAL AND PRIVATE, NOW COLLECTED AND PUBLISHED IN THEIR ENTIRETY FOR THE FIRST TIME INCLUDING ALL OF THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPTS, DEPOSITED IN THE DEPARTMENT OF STATE AND PUBLISHED IN 1853 BY ORDER OF THE JOINT COMMITTEE OF CONGRESS WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS AND A COMPREHENSIVE ANALYTICAL INDEX ALBERT ELLERY BERCH EDITOR VOl. II. ISSUED UNDER THE AUSPICES OF THE THOMAS JEFFERSON MEMORIAL ASSOCIATION OF THE UNITED STATES WASHINGTON, D. C. 1907 COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY THE THOMAS JEFFERSON MEMORIAL ASSOCIATION THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA AND THOMAS JEFFERSON, ITS FATHER.(1) The lives of institutions, like those of human beings, have their vicissitudes. This University in whose honor we are gathered together to-day, has not been an exception. It had a long struggle even for existence. Joy and triumph followed when, eighty years ago, its first corner-stone was laid with pomp and ceremony in the presence of a distinguished company which included three illustrious men who had filled the office of President of the United States. A long succeeding period of growth, prosperity and happiness was rudely interrupted by the desolating storm of war-war raging with fury around its own temples, and driving even its own peaceful children into the grim work of destruction and slaughter. But even war, which spares almost nothing, yet spared the walls with their precious contents. The heart of the soldier will sill melt before the sad pleading of the Muse. __________ [(1) An Address delivered by James C. Carter, LL. D., upon the occasion of the Dedication of the new Buildings of the University; June 14, 1898.] __________ iv The University of Virginia, and "Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower: The great Emathian conqueror bid spare The house of Pindarus, when temple and tow'r Went to the ground; and the repeated air Of sad Electra's poet had the pow'r To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare." The dawn of peace found the University weak and exhausted, but not disheartened. The people of Virginia who had learned to cherish it, its sons who looked back to it with fond affection, the warmhearted and open-handed friends of learning in distant places came forward with liberal help. The Muses returned and re-peopled their haunts, and a new era of prosperity, stimulated by the new national life, began its course. But another stroke of adversity awaited it,-this time, not from the hostile passions of man, but from the rage of the elements, less savage indeed, but not less unsparing. Its very walls were laid in ruins and their precious treasures wasted. But if any evidence were needed to show the extent to which the University had increased in power, in grandeur, in usefulness, and in the esteem of the people of Virginia and the friends everywhere of the higher education, it would be found in the undaunted spirit with which this disaster was faced. There was an immediate resolve that it should rise from its ashes in yet fairer proportions, more worthy of the spirit in which it was originally founded, better equipped for the great work to which it was originally dedicated, and a more glorious monument to the great name forever associated with it. Thomas Jefferson, its Father v This great purpose has now been accomplished, and we are gathered together to-day to celebrate its completion. The scene before me and around is the best evidence of the interest of the occasion. The sons of the University from near and far have returned to the bosom of their Fair Mother to rejoice together over her happiness. Representatives of other seats of learning are here to offer their congratulations. The diplomatic representative of the great empire at the antipodes-an empire in which learning has for ages been held in honor lends to the occasion the dignity of his presence. The venerable Commonwealth is here in the person of the Chief Magistrate and principal officers of state to manifest her own interest in an institution which her bounty has cherished and which has given back in return the support upon which alone a free Commonwealth can rest. It is the custom on such occasions to make provision f or deliberate utterance of the thoughts which they are calculated to excite, and the authorities of the University have thought it suitable to invite to this office, not-I have been made to feel-an entire stranger, but a friend from a distance, whose opportunities have not been such as to permit a close observation of the history and fortunes of the institution. Profoundly sensible of the honor thus conferred upon me, I cannot help feeling how inadequate I am to its due performance. I cannot speak of the University of Virginia with all the affection which vi The University of Virginia, and the graduate cherishes for his Alma Mater, nor with the full pride which the Virginian alone can feel; but to those who regard this institution as their own, who have control over its destinies, or have been reared within its walls, a view of it, as it appears to outside observers, may not be unwelcome, or wholly uninteresting. We are sometimes enabled to correct our own conceptions of ourselves, and qualify ourselves in some degree for the better performance of our own duties, by learning what is thought of us and what is expected of us by others. Let me then occupy your thoughts for a brief hour with a sketch, very rude and imperfect, of the origin of the University and of its principal features as they appear to the world at large, to which I may add some allusion to its illustrious founder, and to the political philosophy the teaching of which he so ardently desired to promote. Its origin offers a strong contrast with the beginnings of our principal seats of learning which preceded it. Harvard, Yale, Columbia and Princeton began as mere schools for humble colonies, with no prevision of the great destinies which awaited them. Their majestic proportions have been developed and shaped, during long periods of time, by many different hands and many varying influences. But the University of Virginia sprang into life, in full panoply, from the conception of a single man, like Minerva from the brain of Jove. The aim of its founder was not to supply merely local and immedi- Thomas Jefferson, its Father ate wants, but to make provision for the growth, maintenance and glory of the new civilization and the new empire with which his visions were filled. No sketch can even be outlined of the origin and character of this institution which does not take in as a principal element the figure of this illustrious man. The leading feature in the mind and character of Thomas Jefferson was a firm and undoubting belief in the worth and dignity of human nature, and in the capacity of man for self government. This was at once the conclusion of his reason and the passion of his soul. Whence it came to him it is difficult to discover; it was not from the sense of subjection and oppression felt by an inferior class in society towards those above it, for he belonged to the class of well to do, if not wealthy, Virginia land-holders; not from the venerable college of William and Mary, in which he was bred, for his opinions were not the cherished sentiments of that institution; not from his early and familiar acquaintance, to which he has acknowledged his great indebtedness, with Dr. Small, the President of that College, George Wythe and Gov. Fauquier, f or their tendencies were towards very conservative views; not even from the fiery eloquence of Patrick Henry, to which he had often listened with admiration,-that may have fanned the flame in his bosom-but indignation at the Stamp Act would scarcely have nerved him to his early effort in the House of Burgesses to facilitate the manumission of slaves. It seems to have been viii The University of Virginia, and inborn; but whether inborn or communicated, it ruled his life; it burst from him like the peal of an anthem when he came to pen the immortal Declaration ; his long residence in Europe only confirmed it the excesses of the French. Revolution had no effect to abate it, and it breathes through every line of his public utterances from his seat as President of the United States; it was the foundation of his virtues and the source of his errors ; and not only the source of these, but the cause of the false imputation to him of errors he never committed ; his friendships and his enmities were alike due to it ; he distrusted all who were not in full sympathy with it, and they distrusted him. Taught by bitter experience that the principles of true democracy are often as distasteful to the multitude as they are to the possessors of wealth and privilege, that the masses of men, fascinated by the splendors and force of concentrated power, may easily be persuaded, sometimes, to surrender in exchange for them the sense of individual freedom, even this did not dishearten him, and after filling, for eight years, the highest office in the gift of his countrymen with undeviating fidelity to the principles of popular government, he retired to the rest and repose of his beloved Monticello, carrying thither convictions of the worth and dignity of human nature, and ideals of government by the people, as distinct and fresh as those which animated him in the morning of his life. Men have forever been prone to cast either a Thomas Jefferson, its Father doubt or a sneer upon the apparently beneficent deeds of those whose principles they reject and whose influence they fear. . A large part, at least, of the acts of Mr. Jefferson's official life still remain and will, perhaps, forever remain, the subjects of dispute ; but he himself has happily singled out, to be engraven upon his tomb, three particular achievements with which he wished his name to be associated, by friend or stranger, in all future time. The latest generation of his countrymen will not question the justice of his claim, nor withhold any part of the full tribute of honor and glory which belongs to the " author of the Declaration of American Independence, of the Statute of Virginia for Religious Freedom, and to the Father of the University of Virginia."(1) Mr. Jefferson, at his retirement, was sixty-six years of age. His intellectual faculties were unimpaired, his bodily strength was well preserved, and he was still conscious of the possession of a large capacity for usefulness to his countrymen and to mankind. His ambition for public office, never very deeply cherished, had been fully satisfied, and he was inwardly resolved never again to seek it. He had cherished through life a passion for the acquisition of knowledge, and was one of the best educated men, if not the best educated man, of his country and time, and he could. have filled the remainder of his days with a serene and tranquil enjoyment of the pleasures of literature and science; but such a life __________ (1) From the inscription on his tomb .__________ The University of Virginia, and was not possible for him, nor was any life possible for him the strength of which was not devoted to the advancement of the liberty and happiness of men. He had in early manhood formed a scheme of public education, which, from time to time, had pressed itself on his attention throughout even the busiest years of his public life. It was part of his political philosophy. Lover of liberty as he was, firmly as he believed that popular government was the only form of public authority consistent with the highest happiness of men, he yet did not believe that any nation or community could permanently retain this blessing without the benefit of the lessons of truth, and the discipline of virtue to be derived only from the intellectual and moral education of the whole people. His general scheme appears to have embraced three branches : ( 1 ) the division of the whole state into districts, or wards, and the establishment in each of a primary school in which the rudiments of knowledge should be taught to all; (2) the establishment of a sufficient number of higher academies or colleges, in which those exhibiting in the primary schools superior intellectual endowments might acquire, gratis, a further and higher education; and (3) a State University, in which each science should " be taught in the highest degree it has yet attained."' The length of time during which, and the intensity with which Mr. Jefferson had devoted himself to this great object, is well manifested by an extract from a __________ (1) See Jefferson's Autobiography; vol. 1, p, 47. __________ Thomas Jefferson, its Father xi letter written by him in 1818, some ten years after his retirement from the presidency. "A system " says he, " of general instruction which shall reach every description of our citizens, from the highest to the poorest, as it was the earliest, so will it be the latest, of all the public concerns in which I shall permit myself to take an interest." (1) The two branches of his scheme relating respectively to the primary schools and the higher academies encountered obstacles which it was impossible for him to surmount, and they are not those features which chiefly concern us to-day ; but I cannot resist the temptation to read before this audience his statement of the objects of primary education contained in the celebrated report prepared by him for the Commission appointed by the Governor of Virginia under an act of the General Assembly and which met in 1818 at the unpretending tavern at Rockfish Gap in the Blue Ridge. There have been held since that day, in many parts of the United States, conventions and conferences of teachers, educators and friends and patrons of learning more numerously attended, favored with more abundant information, and with other advantages for the consideration and discussion of educational questions ; but none, certainly, more distinguished for the dignity and ability of its members.. Besides senators and judges, there were among those who assembled on that occasion, James Monroe, then President of the United States, __________ (1) Correspondence of Jefferson and Cabell; p. 106. __________ xii The University of Virginia, and and his two predecessors, James Madison and Thomas Jefferson. And, certainly, we may look in vain for any public statement before that time or since, of the objects of public education so concise so comprehensive and so just as that contained in the report of this Commission written by Jefferson. He thus defined the objects of primary education: " 1. To give to every citizen the information he needs for the transaction of his own business. " 2. To enable him to calculate for himself, and to express and preserve his ideas, his contracts and accounts in writing " 3. To improve, by reading, his morals and faculties. " 4. To understand his duties to his neighbors and country, and to discharge with competence the functions confided to him by either. " 5. To know his rights ; to exercise with order and justice those he retains; to choose with discretion the fiduciary of those he delegates ; and to notice their conduct with diligence, with candor and judgment. " 6. And, in general, to observe with intelligence and faithfulness all the social relations under which he shall be placed."' This statement of the objects of primary education will never be improved. It ought to be written in letters of gold and hung in every primary school throughout the land and be known by heart to every teacher and child therein. It is, indeed, more than __________ (1) U. S. Bureau of Education, Circular No. 1 __________ P. 33. Thomas Jefferson, its Father xiii a statement of the elements of rudimentary education. It is an enumeration of the duties of every good citizen under a popular government. The apparent impossibility, at the time he began his effort, of impressing upon the Commonwealth his sense of the necessity of a universal provision f or primary education, moved Mr. Jefferson to turn his attention to the third branch of his scheme, that which embraced a State University. This, although not, in his democratic view, the part of his plan which promised results of the widest utility, was the one which offered to him the most congenial field of effort, and held out to his hopes a better promise of success. His conception in its main elements had been in his mind from early manhood. He had never dismissed it from his thoughts. He cherished it during the gloomy years of the Revolution. He improved it during his long sojourn in France. He recurred to it again and again in the midst of the perplexities which distracted him during both his presidential terms, and he brought it gradually to a completion after his retirement. He sought every aid which he could derive from independent study, from unceasing correspondence with men of learning familiar with university education and from personal intercourse with those interested in his project whom he could attract to his own hospitable roof. I have no time to recount the successive steps by which his plan proceeded towards its realization ; its partial embodiment in the Albemarle Academy, its xiv The University of Virginia, and fuller development in the Central College, under which name the corner-stone of the future University was laid, and its final establishment in fact and in name by the passage through the General Assembly, on the 25th of January, 1819, of the bill uniting the Central College and the University of Virginia. It would be no disparagement of the glory to which Mr. Jefferson is entitled for this great achievement to say that he could never have accomplished the work without the aid of others. The assent of the Legislature was needed, and for this a favoring public sentiment was necessary ; but it was here that Mr. Jefferson's task began. For forty years he had been laboring in every form in which public sentiment could be reached, through the press, and by correspondence and personal influence with leading public men, to create, and he finally created, a conviction of the importance and necessity of the work. But, however conspicuous the place which may be assigned to him, there was one coadjutor whose devoted labor and effective aid can never be forgotten. The right arm upon which he relied in later years, and without which it may well be doubted whether this audience would be gathered together to-day, was Joseph C. Cabell. The alumni and friends of the University of Virginia may be trusted to take care that that name shall not perish from the grateful memory of men. The whole work, however, was as yet by no means accomplished. I have just said that the University Thomas Jefferson, its Father xv had become established in f act and in name ; but the fact was only the legislative fiat, and the name as yet but a name. The conception of a University embraces noble buildings which contain its libraries, its collections, its halls of instruction, and which, in most instances prior to this time, had been the contributions of successive generations. Of these there were as yet none ; and in nothing does this institution more clearly appear as the creation of Mr. Jefferson's mind than in its material structures and their situation. In respect to the situation, the presence of a selfish interest may be recognized and excused. Among the motives which stimulated his zeal was undoubtedly a desire, of which we have more than one example among democratic statesmen, to spend the years of retirement in the congenial neighborhood of a great institution of learning and science ; and it was the longing of his heart that the University should have her permanent seat, " her arms and her chariot, in the neighborhood of his own Monticello. To this end he employed every resource of argument, and when this failed, of art, to persuade the body of which he was himself a member, of the superior claims of this locality. They were obliged to admit that healthiness and centrality ought to be the predominating considerations ; but, admitting this, they could hardly resist the argument afforded by Mr. Jefferson's " imposing array of octogenarians " then still living in this region ; and, as to centrality, he was ready with a demonstration that on whatever xvi The University of Virginia, and theory the lines might be run " they would be found to pass close to Charlottesville:"(1) The form, the architecture, and the arrangement of the material structures seem to have been altogether his own ; and here he did not allow the simplicity and frugality of his political philosophy to lead him astray. His vision was of a University which would appeal to the sentiments, and thus attract to itself the most famous teachers, with crowds of scholars. He knew the Muses could not be enticed to take up their abode in mean and squalid habitations. He wrote to his efficient helper, Cabell : " The great object of our aim from the beginning has been to make the establishment the most eminent in the United States in order to draw to it the youth of every State, but especially of the South and West. We have proposed, therefore, to call to it characters of the first order of science from Europe, as well as our own country, and not only by the salaries and the comforts of their situation, but by the distinguished scale of its structure and preparation, and the promise of future eminence which these would hold up, to induce them to commit their reputation to its future fortunes. Had we built a barn for a college and log huts for accommodations, should we ever have had the assurance to propose to an European professor of character to come to it ? "(2) He sought, therefore, to reproduce on the American frontier a __________ 1 U. S. Bureau of Education, Circular No. 1,1888, p. 37. 2 Correspondence of Jefferson and Cabell; p. 260. __________ Thomas Jefferson, its Father xvii vision of the architecture and art of Greece and Rome. He seems to have been his own architect and almost his own builder. It would be strange, indeed, if the results had altogether escaped criticism, or if personal vanity had not, to some extent, usurped the place of knowledge ; but it is no mean tribute to the merit of the original design that it has been, after the lapse of three-quarters of a century, reproduced and perpetuated in the principal restoration which we dedicate to-day. On the 7th of March, 1825, the University was thrown open for the reception of students, and its actual career began. It must have been a day of unspeakable satisfaction to Mr. Jefferson. A long life filled with public service and public cares had been at last crowned by what he regarded as its most useful achievement, at the very moment when he had reached the boundary which limits human endeavor; but if he was capable of no further effort there was no further effort which he was called upon to make. It was the very point at which, as he had many times declared, he could with happiness pronounce his " nunc dimittis," and the moment was not long deferred. On the 4th day of July of the succeeding year, just half a century after the American Colonies had rung out to the world in his own immortal language their declaration of nationality, he closed his career on earth. This is not the time, had I the ability, to make any attempt to assign the place to which this illustrious xviii The University of Virginia, and man is entitled on the roll of philanthropists. Coming as he did upon the theatre of conspicuous life at a period when the fundamental principles of government were the subjects of universal discussion, subjects upon which freemen are at all times inclined to array themselves on one or the other of two opposing sides,-one dreading the effects of popular ignorance, the other fearing the selfishness of the enlightened,-one looking back to the supposed wisdom and virtue of the past, and the other looking forward with confidence to the possibilities and promise of the future,-plunging, as he did, into these conflicts with all the earnestness of long cherished and positive convictions, he could hardly f ail to encounter hostilities which would stop at no methods by which his principles or his character could be discredited. By some irony of fate the great apostle of democracy was made to suffer in his own person all the injustice which democratic societies can perpetrate. The great defender of the liberty of speech and the press was rewarded by an outpouring from the press and the pulpit of calumny and detraction unparalleled before or since; and the foremost champion of popular principles, faithful to them in every act of his life, retired from the high office of President under a load of unpopularity. But, "Time! the corrector where our judgments err, * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Time, the avenger!" Thomas Jefferson, its Father xix , has dispelled the clouds of detraction and the mists of prejudice and revealed in clearer light the true image of the statesman and the patriot. Looking at the denunciation poured out upon him by his contemporaries and the applause with which posterity has hailed his name, we are moved to think with the great English orator " that obloquy is a necessary ingredient in the composition of all true glory," and that " it was not only in the Roman customs, but it is in the nature and constitution of things that calumny and abuse are essential parts of a triumph." He had, indeed, few of the qualities which mark the great military chieftain, the conqueror, or the dictator, but what figure in the gallery of American renown can point to such a catalogue of pacific achievement ?-the abolition in his native State of the laws of primogeniture and entail-the Virginia Statute of religious freedom-the Declaration of Independence-the kind and peaceful removal of the Indian tribes to the west of the Mississippi-the near extinction of the national debt-the acquisition of Louisiana-the University of Virginia-where are the crimes or the vices which dim the lustre of these deeds? Those whose ideal of the duty and destiny of the Republic is that of a conquering nation ready at any moment for the grim business of war, eager to avenge an insult real or supposed, greedy of military and naval renown, inclined to erect its own will into law, and enforce it against all opposition, to strike first and reason afterwards-these will find. xx The University of Virginia, and little to admire in the career of Mr. Jefferson. He knew too well the lessons of history. He knew what visions of empire had dazzled the ambition of Rome, while Rome was yet free, "Tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento; Hae tibi erunt artes; pacisque imponere morem, Parcere subjectis, et debellare suberpos." And he knew also the terrible penalty to Rome and the world which an indulgence of those visions cost. He had lived in the midst of the interesting scenes which ushered in the emancipation of France, and had afterwards shuddered to see how ruthlessly the passion for extended empire and military glory would trample upon true liberty. He was a pacific ruler. War, except in self-defence, and as a last alternative; he held in detestation, as the enemy both of civilization and liberty. His patriotism expanded into philanthropy, and permitted no other ambitions respecting foreign nations than those of cultivating the peaceful relations of trade and commerce with the whole family_ of man. Whatever abatement we may be required or disposed to make from his credit as a practical statesman, the sum of his achievements was hardly equalled by any of his contemporaries, save one alone, and the general features of his political philosophy still remain as the nominal creed at least of the great body of his countrymen. But what, if any, was the particular conception of university education which he enshrined within these Thomas Jefferson, its Father xxi walls? Is it still cherished here, and will it be a worthy guide in training the intellect and directing the aspirations of the future generations who are to flock hither? These are questions which more immediately concern us on this occasion. I suppose most men who have given great attention to the subject of education have not thought it appropriate to inquire for what it was useful ; they would deem it useful in itself, as being the development of the faculties of man, or, if required to assign an ulterior object to which it should be held subservient, they would point to nothing less general, or less absolute, than human happiness. This, however, was not Mr. Jefferson's view. Lover as he was of the sciences, and of all learning for their own sake, happy as he had always been made while cultivating them, he yet would never have expended so many years of his life in founding this institution, if he had had no hopes other than those of establishing a university on the ordinary model, even though there were a promise of rivaling the fame of Oxf ord or Bologna. With him, university education was important as being a part of general education, and this was important because necessary to the development and preservation of that civil and political liberty which he deemed essential to the progress and happiness of man. His idea of university education was, therefore, a part of his political philosophy. He believed that there was a system of government founded upon the xxii The University of Virginia, and principles of human nature under which the largest liberty and happiness were attainable, but only upon the condition of a wide-a universal-diffusion of popular education, and that such education embraced the cultivation in the highest degree of those selected minds exhibiting the highest order of genius. It was by means of a systematic cultivation of the best natural geniuses in the land that he hoped to carry all the sciences to the highest degree of cultivation, and among them especially, the science of free government. The animating principle of his political philosophy was a jealousy of all governmental power in whomsoever vested. Such power is, of necessity, to be exercised by some over others. It may be wrongfully usurped, or voluntarily entrusted, but, in either case is liable to be abused; and, in Jefferson's view, the best guaranty against abuse consisted in preventing usurpation and withholding delegation. He knew, indeed, that government to a certain extent was necessary, and, therefore, that it was necessary to delegate and entrust power; but this he would do with stingy parsimony, measuring the amounts doled out by the rule of rigid necessity. This was the ground of his animosity towards any concentration of power in the hands of one, or a few; because concentrated power is a common form and fruit of usurped or delegated power. Nor did his democracy assume that socialistic form which would merge the liberty of the individual in the equality of the Thomas Jefferson, its Father xxiii masses. It was the natural, original freedom of man which he sought to preserve. He was the apostle of individualism. He lost no opportunity of inculcating his favorite principle, and a question as to whether primary schools should be supported and managed by counties, or each by the particular district in which it was situated, led him into a very concise' and excellent statement of his whole theory : "No, my friend," said he, "the way to have good and safe government is not to trust it all to one; but to divide it among the many, distributing to every one exactly the functions he is competent to. Let the National government be entrusted with the defence of the nation, and its foreign and federal relations ; the State government with the civil rights, laws, police and administration of what concerns the State generally ; the counties with the local concerns of the counties and each ward direct the interests within itself. It is by dividing and subdividing these republics, from the great national one down through all its subordinations, until it ends in the administration of every man's farm and affairs by himself ; by placing under every one what his own eye may superintend, that all will be done for the best. What has destroyed liberty and the rights of man in every government which has ever existed under the sun ? The generalizing and concentrating all cares and powers into one body, no matter whether of the autocrats of Russia or France, or of the aristocrats of a Venetian Senate. And I do believe, that if xxiv The University of Virginia, and the Almighty has not decreed that man shall never be free(and it is blasphemy to believe it) the secret will be found in the making himself the depository of the powers respecting, himself so far as he is competent to them, and delegating only. what is beyond his competency by a synthetical process to higher and higher orders of functionaries, so as to trust fewer and fewer powers, in proportion. as the trustees become more and more oligarchical." (1) At the present day we are so familiar with these ideas that it is difficult to imagine that they were ever novel; but in Mr. Jefferson's time it was far otherwise. Not all of those who espoused the side of the colonies against Great Britain and joined in the struggle for independence were believers in popular government, and many even of those who supported the new constitution had but feeble faith in democratic principles. Many even preferred monarchical government, and many more what they called a strong government, that is, a government strong enough to maintain itself even against the popular will. And it is difficult also to understand the partisan hostility and bitterness engendered by these conflicting views. Each side seemed to believe that the other was bent upon the destruction of everything valuable in society. Jefferson and Marshall, two great Virginians, incomparably the first political geniuses in the land, utterly distrusted each other. __________ (1) Correspondence of Jefferson and Cabell; p.54 __________ Thomas Jefferson, its Father - xxv Nor could men be much blamed for withholding assent from the political ideas of Jefferson. There was but little in the teachings of history to support them. They were based in large degree upon a priori conceptions. He was obliged to admit that all previous attempts at popular government had been failures ; but this was, in his view, because of special disfavoring conditions ; the long habit of submitting to despotic authority had enervated the people, or the true principle of popular government had been violated by delegating and concentrating too much power in the hands of a few. He saw in the conditions exhibited by the American colonies the first real opportunity for establishing liberty. For a century these colonies had been exempt from the dominion of feudalism, from sectarian domination, and from nearly every form of severe governmental oppression. Here was a virgin soil, an abundance of land, no degrading poverty, a brave and intelligent people which had just vindicated its title to independence after a long struggle with the mightiest of European powers. He could not help thinking that " unless the Almighty had decreed that man should never be free (and it would be blasphemy to believe this) " that the golden opportunity was now offered; that here the free spirit of mankind should " put its last fetters off ; " that here should be established no bastard, degenerate freedom, no government affecting to be popular, but really resting upon monarchical or aristocratic contrivances xxvi The University of Virginia, and but a freedom in which every man should be master of his own destiny, in which there should be no usurpation of power, and no delegation of power, unless its natural possessor was unfitted to exercise it, and consequently no concentration of power, beyond what rigid necessity required-no great standing armies-no powerful navies carrying the flag in triumph over every sea,-no interference with liberty of opinion or speech-no interference with liberty of action, so long as the public peace and order were not broken-this was Jefferson's vision of republican freedom. It would be a gross injustice to impute to him hostility to government itself, or any indulgence of mere license. Government was in his view the first and most important of human necessities ; but instead of regarding it, as some seemed to do, as being in itself the source of good; and therefore presumably beneficent wherever its power was felt, he looked upon it as beneficial only so far as it was necessary to prevent one man from encroaching upon the liberty and rights of another, and as carrying with it great possibilities of mischief and wrong whenever its interference was pushed beyond its just limits. Such was Mr. Jefferson's conception of liberty and government which he intended should be accepted by this University, and be therein defended and propagated. It was only through the universal adoption of this idea that it seemed to him possible Thomas Jefferson, its Father xxvii for the newly created nation to reach the glorious destiny which the future had in store for it; and hence the importance he attached to it, and the unquestioning assent which he demanded for it. By nature the most tolerant of men, upon this point he was dogmatic, even to bigotry. A thorough believer in the inherent power of truth to triumph ultimately over error, he was yet unwilling to subject his favorite dogma to the temporary hazards of a contest. In one of his communications just before the University was thrown open to students, he expressed to one of his fellows upon the Board of Visitors his anxieties in this direction. Said he : " In most public seminaries text-books are prescribed to each of the several schools as the norma docendi in that school ; and this is generally done by authority of the trustees. I should not propose this generally in our University; because I believe none of us are so much at the heights of science in the several branches as to undertake this; and, therefore, that it will better be left to the professors, until occasion of interference shall be given. But there is one branch in which we are the best judges, in which heresies may be taught, of so interesting a character to our own State, and to the United States, as to make it a duty in us to lay down the principles which shall be taught. It is that of government. Mr. Gilmer, being withdrawn, we know not who his successor may be. He may be a Richmond lawyer, or one of that school of quondam federalism, now consolidation. It is our duty to xxviii The University of Virginia, and guard against the dissemination of such principles among our youth, and the diffusion of that poison, by a previous prescription of the texts to be followed in their discourses."(1) Of the fidelity heretofore of this University to the political theory thus entrusted to it, no doubt will be entertained. Its own convictions have concurred with the sentiments of grateful admiration for its father. Successive generations of the sons of the South have become deeply imbued with it by lessons received upon this spot and have greatly aided in making it the unchallenged popular faith throughout the largest part of the land. Shall this fidelity be continued into the indefinite future? Shall Jefferson's theory of Liberty be forever cherished around his tomb ? Has the experience of a century vindicated its pretensions as the only sure foundation of popular government, or stamped upon it the discredit of an illusive impracticability ? These are not uninteresting questions and they deserve my few remaining words. If an intelligent observer removed from any participation in our political strifes were to survey the history of our country for a century with the view of ascertaining how far events had justified the teachings of Mr. Jefferson and his followers, he would find difficulty in reaching at first, at least, a favorable verdict. He would impute, perhaps not unjustly, to that peaceful policy the national humiliations __________ (1) Correspondence of Jefferson and Cabell; P. 339. __________ Thomas Jefferson, its Father xxix which preceded and accompanied the War of 1812 with Great Britain. He would see one of the supposed conclusions of that political philosophy as originally drawn and carefully expressed by the great apostle himself in the celebrated Kentucky resolutions of 1798, and afterwards re-stated and vindicated by another illustrious son of the South, made the justification for a bold and deliberate attempt to nullify, throughout the territory of a State, a law of the United States. He would see this conclusion at a still later period made the ground for a widespread defiance of the entire national authority, and the main support of a civil strife which deluged the land with fraternal blood. Further reflection, however, would probably dispel in part, if not altogether, the unfavorable impression. Mr. Jefferson's political system was, no doubt, based upon the assumption of peace. He held in abhorrence large standing armies and powerful navies, and a nation unprovided with these will sometimes find itself subjected to humiliation, as we were in the era of 1812, either by submitting to injury from a consciousness of unreadiness to make good a defiance, or by being suddenly overwhelmed by an inferior hostile force. But are nations unprepared for war the only ones likely to be subjected to humiliations? Was England never humiliated, or France, or Germany ? And what can be a greater humiliation than that of an unjust aggression upon the rights of others and the peace of the world so xxx The University of Virginia, and likely to be committed by those who think them- selves armed with resistless power ? And had we always been armed on the land and on the sea in proportion to our power, should we have gained and held the glory hitherto accorded to us by civilized mankind of being the promoters everywhere of international law, and the advocates of peace and justice among nations ? And, even in respect to power itself, were we called upon to exhibit our strength in a just cause, could we under a more consolidated government, assemble the overwhelming forces which the emulation of rival States will now willingly place at the service of the nation ? For the theoretical doctrine which supported the claims of nullification and secession, Mr. Jefferson must, indeed, be held largely accountable; but this was never any essential part of his philosophy of free government, if indeed it be consistent with it. It concerned only the interpretation and effect of the particular constitutional instrument by which the colonies united themselves together. I must employ a few words here to make this more plain. In the great political division which took place soon after the adoption of the constitution, men arrayed themselves on the one side or the other according as they favored the advanced doctrines of popular government, or, distrusting the capacity of the people, inclined towards the principles and methods of a constitutional monarchy. The impulse of the movement which culminated in the French Thomas Jefferson, its Father xxxi Revolution, reaching these shores, stirred the sympathies and passions of both parties, the one espousing the cause of Democratic France and the other of monarchical England. The Federal party, alarmed for the public welfare, and fearful lest the license of the French revolutionists should be repeated on this side of the water, sought to strengthen authority by those acts of repressive Federal power, since generally condemned, called the Alien and Sedition laws. The constitutional validity of these was attacked by Jefferson, and his argument was formulated in the celebrated Kentucky resolutions, in which he affirmed the right of each State, under the Constitution, to determine for itself the validity of any Federal enactment. The main question was not whether under a Federal government formed to secure the ends which ours had in view, it would be wise to delegate to the general government the exclusive right to determine the extent of its own powers, but whether in point of f act such a delegation was contained in our own constitution. Upon this point it would be true to say that Mr. Jefferson and his followers had their own way, until the appearance of the scene, at a later period, of those great protagonists in constitutional debate, Webster and Calhoun. In what condition the struggle between these renowned champions left the dispute I will not undertake to say,- "Non nostrum tantas componere lites; " xxxii The University of Virginia, and but I may hazard the opinion that if the question had been made, not in 1861, but in 1788, immediately after the adoption of the Constitution, whether the Union as formed by that instrument could lawfully treat the secession of a State as a rebellion and suppress it by force, few of those who had participated in framing that instrument would have answered in the affirmative. Nor has that question been in any manner settled by the result of that civil strife which has effected such a profound revolution in the political and social world of America. I cannot admit the efficacy of force to settle any question of historic or scientific truth. Truth is eternal and immutable, and the warfare of those who seek to suppress it will forever be in vain. The question which the result of that strife did settle, as has been eloquently and powerfully shown by a distinguished statesman and jurist of the South-shown, too, in pronouncing a glowing eulogy upon his great teacher and master, Calhoun was, not whether our Constitution actually created a consolidated nation-nations cannot be created by agreement-but whether the Federal Union, composed originally of colonies the people of which had been subjects of the same sovereign, and which had never occupied the attitude of independent States before the world, embracing, also, new States created out of territory which was the common property of all., could-after they had been knit together into a nation during the life of nearly a century by the Thomas Jefferson, its Father xxxiii thousand processes which time and nature employ to cement and consolidate a people-by trade, by commerce, by railways, by social and business alliances, by common perils and sufferings in war, by the blessings, hopes and aspirations of peace, could, after all this, at the will and pleasure of one of its parts, be instantly and peacefully resolved, not into its original elements, but into supposed constituent parts, most of which had had no participation in its original formation. That was a question which from its nature could be settled only by trial, and the trial has indeed forever settled that, and-strange thing in human history-neither side would wish the decision to be reversed. Nor should it be forgotten that, whatever the consequences, in, the form of disunion or secession, the doctrine of Mr. Jefferson, as propounded in the Kentucky resolutions, might possibly involve, no such project was ever suggested, or in any manner countenanced, by him. Whatever discredit may be attached to any suggestions, in his day, of disunion or secession belongs altogether to his political opponents. Are there any other respects in which it may be plausibly suggested that the political philosophy of Mr. Jefferson has been discredited by the teachings of experience? Does the General Government now need a larger delegation of power? Are there any functions hitherto performed by the States which should be relegated to the central authority ? Do we need a large standing army? Must we confront xxxiv The University of Virginia, and the gigantic naval armaments of the European nations with a corresponding array ? Must we mingle in the ambitions of the great powers of the world ? Must we extend the area of our territorial dominion ? Must we look on and behold with unconcern the partitioning of Africa among the European powers, and the dismemberment of China? Must we assert before the world the might and majesty of seventy millions of the most energetic and productive people on the globe? Shall we form alliances with kindred peoples, or remain in calm and forbidding isolation among the nations? All these questions to which, if proposed in Mr. Jefferson's time, his teaching would have returned an answer in the negative, are likely to press themselves, if they are not already pressing themselves, upon the public attention. Time, of course, does not permit me to indulge in any consideration of either of them; but I venture to express my conviction that unless the answer the American people make to them shall be consistent with those principles of which Mr. Jefferson has hitherto been regarded as the champion, there will be an end of true popular government among men. There is-there can be-but one true basis of liberty, and that lies in constantly cherishing the dispersion rather than the concentration of power. The individual loses something of his liberty the moment he clothes another with any power over himself. Nothing can justify the surrender except Thomas Jefferson, its Father xxxv the promise that by making it he better secures the liberty he retains. But with every new surrender of power there comes a peril. Power entrusted will sometimes be abused, and the temptation to abuse increases with the extent of the delegation. Liberty is safe when, and only when, for each delegation of power which is demanded a necessity is shown. No; the fundamental political philosophy of Mr. Jefferson has not been discredited by time or experience. It never will be discredited while men retain a real love and a true comprehension of civil liberty. And never more than at the present time has there been a necessity f or studying and teaching within the walls of universities the true principles of republican liberty and the practical art of applying them to human affairs. Recreant, indeed, would this University be to the fame of its founder, to the purposes for which it was established, and to its own obligations to present and to future times, if it failed to continue to maintain, not in the spirit of dogmatism, but of devotion to truth, those great principles upon which free popular government stands. If anything were needed to impress upon patriotic minds the supreme importance of cultivating anew these principles and implanting in all hearts the determination to maintain them, it would be supplied by the extraordinary spectacle which our country exhibits at the present moment. We have voluntarily chosen to break the peace of the world xxxvi The University of Virginia, and and engage in a war which already imposes a heavy burden upon the industry and resources of the nation, and which may become enlarged into gigantic proportions-a war undertaken not to repel aggression, but to check the disorders and relieve the oppressions to which a neighboring people have been subjected. It is, indeed, true that nations have their duties not only to themselves, but to the world ; and these must be performed at whatever hazard. If we have not the virtue to perform them without sacrificing our own freedom, we have no right to be a republic. We believe, and have solemnly avowed, that we have taken this perilous step under the influence of those humane motives which civilization and humanity enjoin us to obey. For the sincerity of that avowal we must abide the judgment of civilized nations, and this will largely depend upon the consistency with that declaration which our future conduct shall exhibit. Even now the passion for national glory, growing by what it feeds upon, stimulated by the deeds of naval skill and daring on distant seas-deeds which reflect undying lustre on the American name and excite the admiration of the world-is indulging new visions of territorial aggrandizement. But have a care, Americans ! These national duties which call upon us to raise an avenging arm arise only in those rare alternatives when all else has proved to be ineffectual, and when we have good reason to know that such avenging arm will be Thomas Jefferson, its Father xxxvii effectual. Have a care that among your ruling motives no place shall be allowed to the mere love of military and naval renown. The pathway marked out for the republic by its fathers was one of peaceful achievement. Its mission is peace. A free nation can rightfully have no other aspiration. But there are temptations which come with the possession of power. Men take pride in being the citizens of powerful nations, and enjoy the consciousness of strength. These temptations are to be resisted, for we may be sure that f or any undue indulgence in them the price will be exacted with the certainty of f ate ; and this price is grinding taxation, the oppression of the poorer classes, the multiplication of the official corps, the intensifying of the struggle for the possession of governmental patronage and consequent spread of corruption, the increasing power of political bosses and chieftains, the decay of public and civic virtue, and the resulting danger of resorts to revolution. Let not our future confirm the sad lament of the misanthropic poet, that history has but one page which reads, "First Freedom, and then Glory-when that fails, Wealth, vice, corruption,-barbarism at last." Here, then, of all places, let the true principles of liberty and free government, as expounded by Jefferson, be forever studied and taught. Let the youth of the land who are to resort hither here learn the true objects of national ambition and the methods by xxxviii The University of Virginia which they are to be reached. Let them study here the new problems arising from the prodigious growth of the nation and its rapid material consolidation. Let them be taught the true principles of legislation, and by what methods liberty is best reconciled with order and with law ; and above all let them learn to prefer for their country that renown among the nations which comes from the constant display of the love of peace and justice. And the ancient Commonwealth of Virginia,-to what nobler object can she extend her favor 'and support than the building up upon this historic spot of a great university which shall be at once the home of the Sciences and the Arts and the nursery of political freedom? Outshining all her sister colonies in the splendor of her contribution to the galaxy of great names which adorns our Revolutionary history, how can she better perpetuate that glory than by sending forth from her own soil a new line of patriot statesmen? No jealousies will attend her efforts to this great end, and her sister States would greet with delight her re-ascending star once more blazing in the zenith of its own proper firmament. CONTENTS. THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA, AND THOMAS JEF- PAGE FERSON, ITS FATHER. By James C. Carter, LL. D. iii NOTES ON VIRGINIA . ... .. . . . . . .. ... 1-261 An exact description of the limits and boundaries of the State of Virginia. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 A notice of its rivers, rivulets, and how far they are navigable.... . . ... . . .. . ... . 3 A notice of the best Seaports of the State, and size of the vessels they can receive.... . . . 22 A notice of its Mountains.. . . . . ... . . 23 Its Cascades and Caverns.. . . .. 27 A notice of the mines and other subterraneous riches; its trees, plants, fruits, etc.... ... . 33 A notice of all that can increase the progress of Human Knowledge... .. .. . . . . 104 The number of its inhabitants.. . . . ... . . 116 The number and condition of the Militia and Regular Troops, and their Pay.. . .. . .. 125 The Marine. .. . . . 127 A description of the Indians established in that State ...................... 127 A notice of the counties, cities, townships, and villages .... .... . ......... 146 The constitution of the State and its several charters ......... ......... 148 The administration of Justice and the descrip- tion of the laws.... . . ... . . 179 The Colleges and Public Establishments, the Roads, Buildings, etc.. 208 Contents NOTES ON VIRGINIA-continued page The measures taken with regard to the estates and possessions of the Rebels, commonly called Tories.. . ... . 215 The different religions received into Virginia... 217 The particular customs and manners that may happen to be received in Virginia.. ..... .. 225 The present state of manufactures, commerce, interior and exterior trade... ..... . . ... 228 A notice of the commercial productions par- ticular to the State, and of those objects which the inhabitants are obliged to get from Europe and from other parts of the world... 230 The weights, measures and the currency of the hard money. Some details relating to ex- change with Europe.... ..... ......... 235 The public Income and Expenses..... . . ... 237 The histories of the State, the memorials pub- lished in its name in the time of its being a colony, and the pamphlets relating to its interior or exterior affairs present or ancient. 244 APPENDIX TO NOTES ON VIRGINIA ............ 263-329 No. I. Observations by Charles Thompson.. 263 No. II. Draft of a fundamental Constitution for the Commonwealth of Virginia. 281 No.III. An Act for establishing Religious Freedom, passed in the Assembly of Virginia in the beginning of year 1786...................... 300 No. IV. An Appendix relative to the Mur- dering of Logan's Family..... . . 304 No. V. Extract of a Letter from the Hon. Judge Innes to Thomas Jefferson.. 307 Logan's speech ....................,. 308 Contents APPENDIX TO NOTES ON VIRGINIA-continued page Affidavit of John Gibson .. . . . . . . . . . 308 Extract of a letter from Col. Ebenezer Zane to the Hon. John Brown... . . 310 Certificate of William Huston. 311 Certificate of Jacob Newland..... 312 Certificate of John Anderson,.. 312 Deposition of James Chambers... 313 Certificate of David Reddick... 315 Certificate of Charles Polke... 315 Declaration of the Honorable Judge Innes. 316 Declaration of William Robinson.. 316 Deposition of Col. William M'Kee... 318 Certificate of James Speed, Jr., and J. H. Dewes. 319 Certificate of Hon. Stevens Thompson Mason.. 319 Statement of Andrew Rogers in regard to the speech of Logan to Lord Dunmore.... 319 Declaration of John Heckewelder.... 320 Historical statement... ... 324 Declaration of John Sappington... 327 Certificate of Samuel M'Kee, Jr... 329 MANUAL OF PARLIAMENTARY PRACTICE.. 331-450 Introduction ...... .. 333 The Importance of Adhering to Rules 335 Legislature ...... . 338 Privilege........ ....... 338 Elections ...... . 346 Qualifications ... . . .. . 347 Quorum. 349 Call of the House.. . . . .... 350 Absence ..... .... ... 350 Speaker....... ....... 351 Address....................... 352 Committees... .. .. .. . ... 353 Committee of the Whole.. . . 354 xlii Contents MANUAL OF PARLIAMENTARY PRACTICE-Continued page Examination of Witnesses.... . . . . . ... 357 Arrangement of Business..... ... . ... .'.. 359 Order.... 360 Order Respecting Papers....... 360 Order in Debate. . . .. 361 Orders of the House. . . .. . 369 Motions.. .. . .... .. .. 372 Resolutions .. . ........ . . .. ... 373 Bills ......................... ... 373 Bills, Leave to Bring in.... . ....... ... 373 Bills, First Reading....... . .... ... . 374 Bills, Second Reading.... ... .. .. ... . 375 Bills, Commitments.. .... .. .,.... .. . . 375 Report of Committee...... .. . . . . . . 380 Bill, Re-Commitment.. ... . ... .. 381 Bill, Report Taken Up... ... .. . ... . ... 382 Quasi Committee. ... .. .. ...... . ... 383 Bill, Second Reading in the House.. ... 385 Reading Papers... . . ... . .... .... .. 387 Privileged Questions...... .. . .. .. .. 388 The Previous Question:... . . ... ..... ... 398 Amendments. 401 Division of the Question .. ..... .. . 406 Co-existing Questions.... . 409 Equivalent Questions.... ... . . .... . .. 410 The Question.. 412 Bill, Third Reading . 412 Division of the House 415 Title .. . . . . , .... . . .... .. 421 Bills Sent to the Other House .... ..... . 424 Amendments between the Houses.,. .... 425 Conferences..... 428 Contents xliii MANUAL OF PARLIAMENTARY PRACTICE-Continued Page Messages...... ........... 432 Assent............. .............. 434 Journals.................. 435 Adjournment....... .... . . 437 A Session......... .......... . .... . 439 Treaties ............................. 441 Impeachment...... .......... . .. 444 NOTES ON VIRGINIA. INTRODUCTORY NOTES. " Notes on Virginia" was written by Jefferson in answer to inquiries propounded to him by the Marquis de Barbe-Marbois, then Secretary of the French Legation in Philadelphia. Jefferson had 200 copies privately printed in Paris in 1784 (dated l782) for distribution among his friends in Europe and America. No more authentic account could be given as to the origin of the "Notes on Virginia" than the account Jefferson gives us himself in his Autobiography. This account is as follows: "Before I had left America, that is to say, in the year of 1781, I had received a letter from M. de Marbois, of the French legation in Philadelphia, informing me that he had been instructed by his government to obtain such statistical accounts of the different States of our Union, as might be useful for their information; and addressing to me a number of queries relative to the State of Virginia. I had always made it a practice, whenever an opportunity occurred, of obtaining any information of our country which might be of use to me in any station, public or private, to commit it to writing. These memoranda, were on loose papers, bundled up without order, and difficult of recurrence, when I had occasion for a particular one. I thought this a good occasion to embody their substance, which I did in the order of M. Marbois's queries, so as to answer his wish, and to arrange them for my own use. Some friends, to whom they were occasionally communicated, wished for copies; but their volume rendering this too laborious by hand, I proposed to get a few printed for their gratification. I was asked such a price, however, as exceeded the importance of the object. On my arrival at Paris, I found it. could be done for a fourth of what I had been asked here. I, therefore, corrected and enlarged them, and had two hundred copies printed, under the title of ' Notes on Virginia.' I gave a very few copies to some particular persons in Europe, and sent the rest to my friends in America. An European copy, by the death of the owner, got into the hands of a bookseller, who engaged its translation, and, when ready for the press, communicated his intentions and manuscript to me, suggesting that I should correct it without asking any other permission for the publication. I never had seen so wretched an attempt at translation. Interverted, abridged, mutilated, and often reversing the sense of the original, I found it a blotch of errors from Introductory Notes beginning to end. I corrected some of the most material, and, in that form, it was printed in French. A London bookseller, on seeing the translation, requested me to permit him to print the English original. I thought it best to do so, to let the world see that it was not really so bad as the French translation had made it appear. And this is the true history of that publication." The English publisher referred to by Jefferson is John Stockdale, who published an edition of the " Notes on Virginia " in 1787. Jefferson's preface to this English edition was as follows: "The following Notes were written in Virginia in the year 1781, and somewhat corrected and enlarged in the winter of 1782, in answer to queries proposed to the Author, by a Foreigner of Distinction, then residing among us. The subjects are all treated imperfectly; some scarcely touched on. To apologize for this by developing the circumstances of the time and place of their composition, would be to open wounds which have already bled enough. To these circumstances some of their imperfections may with truth be ascribed; the great mass to the want. of information and want of talents in the writer. He had a few copies printed, which he gave among his friends; and a transition of them has been lately published in France, but with such alterations as the laws of the press in that country rendered necessary. They are now offered to the public in their original form and language." This edition included three "appendices" that Jefferson added after the publication of the original edition, and it was the first edition to announce the name of the author. It was at once reprinted in America, and apparently without Jefferson's consent. A German translation was issued in 1789. Another American reprint of the English edition seems to have been made with Jefferson's consent in 1794. During the years of l797 and 1798 Jefferson wrote an "Appendix" relative to the murder of Logan's family, which was added to the edition of l800. All subsequent editions, except that of 1853, are reprints of the text of 1787, supplemented by the "Appendix" relating to Logan. Jefferson left at his death a printed copy of his " Notes on Virginia" containing a revision of the text and many manuscript notes. This copy was transferred by Jefferson's literary executor, Thomas Jefferson Randolph, to J. W. Randolph & Co., who based their edition of 1853 on Jefferson's final revision. In the preface of this edition the publishers, in contrast to Jefferson's low estimate of his work, declared that "the beauty of style, the accuracy of information, and the scientific research displayed in the. `Notes' have made them a permanent part of our national literature." JEFFERSON'S WORKS. NOTES ON VIRGINIA. QUERY 1. An exact description of the limits and boundaries of the State of Virginia? Virginia is bounded on the east by the Atlantic; on the north by a line of latitude crossing the eastern shore through Watkin's Point, being about 37degrees 57' north latitude ; from thence by a straight line to Cinquac, near the mouth of Potomac ; thence by the Potomac, which is common to Virginia and Maryland, to the first fountain of its northern branch; thence by a meridian line, passing through that fountain till it intersects a line running east and west, in latitude 39degrees 43' 42.4" which divides Maryland from Pennsylvania, and which was marked by Messrs. Mason and Dixon; thence by that line, and a continuation of it westwardly to the completion of five degrees of longitude from the eastern boundary of Pennsylvania, in the same latitude, and thence by a meridian line to the Ohio; on the VOL. II-1 Jefferson's Works west by the Ohio and Mississippi, to latitude 36degrees 30' north, and on the south by the line of latitude last mentioned. By admeasurement through nearly the whole of this last line, and supplying the unmeasured parts from good data, the Atlantic and Mississippi are found in this latitude to be seven hundred and fifty-eight miles distant, equal to 30degrees 38' of longitude, reckoning fifty-five miles and three thousand one hundred and forty-four feet to the degree. This being our comprehension of longitude, that of our latitude, taken between this and Mason and Dixon's line, is 3degrees 13' 42.4" equal to two hundred and twenty-three and one-third miles supposing a degree of a great circle to be sixty-nine miles, eight hundred and sixty-four feet, as computed by Cassina. These boundaries include an area somewhat triangular of one hundred and twenty-one thousand five hundred and twenty-five square miles, whereof seventy-nine thousand six hundred and fifty lie westward of the Alleghany mountains, and fifty-seven thousand and thirty-four westward of the meridian of the mouth of the Great Kanhaway. This State is therefore one-third larger than the islands of Great Britain and Ireland, which are reckoned at eighty-eight thousand three hundred and fifty-seven square miles. These limits result from, 1. The ancient charters from the crown of England. 2. The grant of Maryland to the Lord Baltimore, and the subsequent determinations of the British court as to the extent Notes on Virginia 3 of that grant. 3. The grant of Pennsylvania to William Penn, and a compact between the general assemblies of the commonwealths of Virginia and Pennsylvania as to the extent of that grant. 4. The grant of Carolina, and actual location of its northern boundary, by consent of both parties. 5. The treaty of Paris of 1763. 6. The confirmation of the charters of the neighboring States by the convention of Virginia at the time of constituting their commonwealth. 7. The cession made by Virginia to Congress of all the lands to which they had title on the north side of the Ohio. QUERY II. A notice of its rivers, rivulets, and how far they are navigable? An inspection of a map of Virginia, will give a better idea of the geography of its rivers, than any description in writing. Their navigation may be imperfectly noted. Roanoke, so far as it lies within the State, is nowhere navigable but for canoes, or light batteaux ; and even for these in such detached parcels as to have prevented the inhabitants from availing themselves of it at all. James River, and its waters, afford navigation as follows : The whole of Elizabeth River, the lowest of those Which run into James River; is a harbor, and would 4 Jefferson's Works contain upwards of three hundred ships. The channel is from one hundred and fifty to two hundred fathoms wide, and at common flood tide affords eighteen feet water to Norfolk. The Stafford, a sixty gun ship, went there, lightening herself to cross the bar at Sowel's Point. The Fier Rodrigue, pierced for sixty-four guns, and carrying fifty, went there without lightening. Craney Island, at the mouth of this river, commands its channel tolerably well. Nansemond River is navigable to Sleepy Hole for vessels of two hundred and fifty tons; to Suffolk for those of one hundred tons; and to Milner's for those of twenty-five. Pagan Creek affords eight or ten feet water to Smithfield, which admits vessels of twenty tons. Chickahominy has at its mouth a bar, on which is only twelve feet water at common flood tide. Vessels passing that, may go eight miles up the river; those of ten feet draught may go four miles further, and those of six tons burden twenty miles further. Appomattox may be navigated as far as Broadways, by any vessel which has crossed Harrison's bar in James River; it keeps eight or ten feet water a mile or two higher up to Fisher's bar, and four feet on that and upwards to Petersburg, where all navigation ceases. James River itself affords a harbor for vessels of any size in Hampton Road, but not in safety through the whole winter'; and there is navigable water for Notes on Virginia 5 them as far as Mulberry Island. A forty gun ship goes to Jamestown, and, lightening herself, may pass Harrison's bar ; on which there is only fifteen feet water. Vessels of two hundred and fifty tons may go to Warwick; those of one hundred and twenty-five go to Rocket's, a mile below Richmond ; from thence is about seven feet water to Richmond ; and about the centre of the town, four feet and a half, where the navigation is interrupted by falls, which in a course of six miles, descend about eighty-eight feet perpendicular ; above these it is resumed in canoes and batteaux, and is prosecuted safely and advantageously to within ten miles of the Blue Ridge; and even through the Blue Ridge a ton weight has been brought; and the expense would not be great, when compared with its object, to open a tolerable navigation up Jackson's river and Carpenter's creek, to within twenty-five miles of Howard's creek of Green Briar, both of which have then water enough to float vessels. into the Great Kanhaway. In some future state of population I think it possible that its navigation may also be made to interlock with that of the Potomac, and through that to communicate by a short portage with the Ohio. It is to be noted that this river is called in the maps James River, only to its confluence with the Rivanna ; thence to the Blue Ridge it is called the Fluvanna; and thence to its source Jackson's river. But in common speech, it is called James River to its source. 6 Jefferson's Works The Rivanna, a branch of James River, is navigable for canoes and batteaux to its intersection with the South-West mountains, which is about twenty-two miles ; and may easily be opened to navigation through these mountains to its fork above Charlottesville. York River, at Yorktown, affords the best harbor in the State for vessels of the largest size. The river there narrows to the width of a mile, and is contained within very high banks, close under which vessels may ride. It holds four fathom water at high tide for twenty-five miles above York to the mouth of Poropotank, where the river is a mile and a half wide and the channel only seventy-five fathom, and passing under a high bank. At the confluence of Pamunkey and Mattapony, it is reduced to three fathom depth, which continues up Pamunkey to Cumberland, where the width is one hundred yards; and up Mattapony to within two miles of Frazier's ferry, where it becomes two and a half fathom deep, and holds that about five miles. Pamunkey is then capable of navigation for loaded flats to Brockman's bridge, fifty miles above Hanover town, and Mattapony to Downer's bridge, seventy miles above its mouth. Piavckatank, the little rivers making out of Mobjack Bay and those of the eastern shore, receive only very small vessels, and these can but enter them. Rappahannock affords four fathom water to Hobb's hole, and two fathom from thence to Fredericksburg. Notes on Virginia 7 Potomac is seven and a half miles wide at the mouth ; four and a half at Nomony bay ; three at Aquia; one and a half at Hallowing point; one and a quarter at Alexandria. Its soundings are seven fathom at the mouth ; five at St. George's island ; four and a half at Lower Matchodic ; three at Swan's point, and thence up to Alexanderia; thence ten feet water to the falls, which are thirteen miles above Alexandria. These falls are fifteen miles in length, and of very great descent, and the navigation above them for batteaux and canoes is so much interrupted as to be little used. It is, however, used in a small degree up the Cohongoronta branch as far as fort Cumberland, which was at the mouth of Willis s creek and is capable, at no great expense, of being rendered very practicable. The Shenandoah branch interlocks with James river about the Blue Ridge, and may perhaps in future be opened. The Mississippi will be one of the principal channels of future commerce for the country westward of the Alleghany. From the mouth of this river to where it receives the Ohio, is one thousand miles by water, but only five hundred by land, passing through the Chickasaw country. From the mouth of the Ohio to that of the Missouri, is two hundred and thirty miles by water, and one hundred and forty by land, from thence to the mouth of the Illinois river, is about twenty-five miles. The Mississippi, below the mouth of the Missouri, is always muddy, and abounding with sand bars, which 8 Jefferson's Works frequently change their places. However, it carries fifteen feet water to the mouth of the Ohio, to which place it is from one and a half to two miles wide, and thence to Kaskaskia from one mile to a mile and a quarter wide. Its current is so rapid, that it never can be stemmed by the force of the wind alone acting on sails. Any vessel however, navigated with oars, may come up at any time, and receive much aid from the wind. A batteau passes from the mouth of Ohio to the mouth of Mississippi in three weeks, and is from two to three months getting up again. During its floods, which are periodical as those of the Nile, the largest vessels may pass down it, if their steerage can be insured. These floods begin in April, and the river returns into its banks early in August. The inundation extends further on the western than eastern side, covering the lands in some places for fifty miles from its banks. Above the mouth of the Missouri it becomes much such a river as the Ohio, like it clear and gentle in its current, not quite so wide, the period of its floods nearly the same, but not rising to so great a height. The streets of the village at Cohoes are not more than ten feet above the ordinary level of the water, and yet were never overflowed. Its bed deepens every year. Cohoes, in the memory of many people now living, was insulated by every flood of the river. What was the eastern channel has now become a lake, nine miles in length and one in width into which the river at this day never flows. This Notes on Virginia 9 river yields turtle of a peculiar kind, perch, trout, gar, pike, mullets, herrings, carp, spatula-fish of fifty pounds weight, cat-fish of one hundred pounds weight, buffalo fish, and sturgeon. Alligators or crocodiles have been seen as high up as the Acansas. It also abounds in herons, cranes, ducks, brant, geese, and swans. Its passage is commanded by a fort established by this State, five miles below the mouth of the Ohio, and ten miles above the Carolina boundary. The Missouri, since the treaty of Paris, the Illinois and northern branches of the Ohio, since the cession to Congress, are no longer within our limits. Yet having been so heretofore, and still opening to us channels of extensive communication with the western and north-western country, they shall be noted in their order. The Missouri is, in fact, the principal river, contributing more to the common stream than does the Mississippi, even after its junction with the Illinois. It is remarkably cold, muddy, and rapid. Its overflowings are considerable. They happen during the months of June and July. Their commencement being so much later than those of the Mississippi, would induce a belief that the sources of the Missouri are northward of those of the Mississippi, unless we suppose that the cold increases again with the ascent of the land from the Mississippi westwardly. That this ascent is great, is proved by the rapidity of the river. Six miles above the mouth, 10 Jefferson's Works it is brought within the compass of a quarter of a mile's width; yet the Spanish merchants at Pancore or St. Louis, say they go two thousand miles up it. It heads far westward of the Rio Norte, or North River. There is, in the villages of Kaskaskia, Cohoes, and St. Vincennes, no inconsiderable quantity of plate, said to have been plundered during the last war by the Indians from the churches and private houses of Santa Fe, on the North river, and brought to the villages for sale. From the mouth of the Ohio to Sante Fe are forty days journey, or about one thousand miles. What is the shortest distance between the navigable waters of the Missouri, and those of the North river, or how far this is navigable above Sante Fe, I could never learn. From Santa Fe to its mouth in the Gulf of Mexico is about twelve hundred miles. The road from New Orleans to Mexico crosses this river at the post of Rio Norte, eight hundred miles below Santa Fe and from this post to New Orleans is about twelve hundred miles ; thus making two thousand miles between Santa Fe and New Orleans; passing down the North river, Red river, and Mississippi; whereas it is two thousand two hundred and thirty through the Missouri and Mississippi. From the same post of Rio Norte, passing near the mines of La Sierra and Laiguana, which are between the North river, and the river Salina to Sartilla, is three hundred and seventy-five miles, and from thence, passing the mines of Charcas, Zaccatecas, and Potosi, to the Notes on Virginia 11 City of Mexico, is three hundred and seventy-five miles; in all, one thousand five hundred and fifty miles from Santa Fe to the city of Mexico. From New Orleans to the city of Mexico is about one thousand nine hundred and fifty miles ; the roads after setting out from the Red river, near Natchitoches, keeping generally parallel with the coast, and about two hundred miles from it, till it enters the city of Mexico. The Illinois is a fine river, clear, gentle, and without rapids; insomuch that it is navigable for batteaux to its source. From thence is a portage of two miles only to the Chicago, which affords a batteau navigation of sixteen miles to its entrance into lake Michigan. The Illinois, about ten miles above its mouth, is three hundred yards wide. The Kaskaskia is one hundred yards wide at its entrance into the Mississippi, and preserves that breadth to the Buffalo plains, seventy miles above. So far, also, it is navigable for loaded batteaux, and perhaps much further. It is not rapid. The Ohio is the most beautiful river on earth: Its current gentle, waters clear, and bosom smooth and unbroken by rocks and rapids, a single instance only excepted. It is one-quarter of a mile wide at Fort Pitt, five hundred yards at the mouth of the Great Kanhaway, one mile and twenty-five poles at Louisville, onequarter of a mile on the rapids three or four miles below Louisville, half a mile where the low country 12 Jefferson's Works begins, which is twenty miles above Green river, a mile and a quarter at the receipt of the Tennessee, and a mile wide at the mouth. Its length, as measured according to its meanders by Captain Hutchins, is as follows :From Fort Pitt To Log's Town .. . . . . 18.5 Big Beaver Creek .. . . 10.75 Little Beaver Creek .. . 13.5 Yellow Creek .. . , , , , 11.75 Two Creeks. . . . . . . . 21.75 Long Reach .. . . . . . . 53.75 End Long Reach .,. . . 16.5 Muskingum .. . . . . . . 25.5 Little Kanhaway . . . . . 12.25 Hockhocking. , , , , , , 16 Great Kanhaway. . . . 82.5 Guiandot.... . .. . . . 43.75 Sandy Creek. . . . . . 14.5 Sioto .. . . . . . . . . 48.25 Little Miami .. ... , , 126.25 Licking Creek. . : . , , 8 Great Miami ... , , , , 26.75 Big Bones ... . , " , 32.5 Kentucky .. . . . . . . 44.25 Rapids. .. . ... . . . 77.25 Low Country .. . . . . 155.75 Buffalo River. . .. . . . 64.5 Wabash.. . . . ... . . 97.25 Big Cave .... . ... ... 42.75 Shawanee River. . . , , . 52.5 Cherokee River .. 13 Massac .. 11 Mississippi, . , . , , 44 --------------- 1188 In common winter and spring tides it affords fifteen feet water to Louisville, ten feet to Le Tarte's. rapids, forty miles above the mouth of the great Kanhaway, and a sufficiency at all times for light batteaux and canoes to Fort Pitt. The rapids are in latitude 38 degrees 8'. The inundatioris of this river begin about the last of March, and subside in July. During these, a first-rate man-of-war may be carried from Louisville to New Orleans, if the sudden turns of the river and the strength of its current will admit a safe steerage. The rapids at Louisville descend about thirty feet in a length of a mile and a half. Notes on Virginia 13 The bed of the river there is a solid rock, and is divided by an island into two branches, the southern of which is about two hundred yards wide, and is dry four months in the year. The bed of the northern branch is worn into channels by the constant course of the water, and attrition of the pebble stones carried on with that, so as to be passable for batteaux through the greater part of the year. Yet it is thought that the southern arm may be the most easily opened for constant navigation. The rise of the waters in these rapids does not exceed ten or twelve feet. A part of this island is so high as to have been never overflowed, arid to command the settlement at Louisville, which is opposite to I t. The fort, however, is situated at the head of the falls. The ground on the south side rises very gradually. The Tennessee, Cherokee, or Hogohege river, is six hundred yards wide at its mouth, a quarter of a mile at the mouth of Holston, and two hundred yards at Chotee, which is twenty miles above Holston, and three hundred miles above the mouth of the Tennessee. This river crosses the southern boundary of Virginia, fifty-eight miles from the Mississippi. Its current is moderate. It is navigable for loaded boats of any burden to the Muscle shoals, where the river passes through the Cumberland mountain. These shoals are six or eight miles long, passable downwards for loaded canoes, but not upwards, unless there be a swell in the river. 14 Jefferson's Works Above these the navigation for loaded canoes and batteaux continues to the Long island. This river has its inundations also. Above the Chickamogga towns is a whirlpool called the Sucking-pot, which takes in trunks of trees or boats, and throws them out again half a mile below. It is avoided by keeping very close to the bank, on the south side. There are but a few miles portage between a branch of this river and the .navigable waters of the river Mobile, which runs into the Gulf of Mexico. Cumberland, or Shawanee river, intersects the boundary between Virginia and North Carolina sixty-seven miles from the Mississippi, and again one hundred and ninety-eight miles from the same river, a little above the entrance of Obey's river in to the Cumberland. Its Clear fork crosses the same boundary about three hundred miles from the Mississippi. Cumberland is a very gentle stream, navigable for loaded batteaux eight hundred miles, without interruption ; then intervene some rapids of fifteen miles in length, after which it is again navigable seventy miles upwards, which brings you within ten miles of the Cumberland mountains. It is about one hundred and twenty yards wide through its whole course, from the head of its navigation to its mouth. The Wabash is a very beautiful river, four hundred yards wide at the mouth, and three hundred at St. Vincennes, which is a post one hundred miles above the mouth, in a direct line. Within this Notes on Virginia 15 space there are two small rapids, which give very little obstruction to the navigation. It is four hundred yards wide at the mouth, and navigable thirty leagues upwards for canoes and small boats. From the mouth of Maple river to that of Eel river is about eighty miles in a direct line, the river continuing navigable, and from one to two hundred yards in width. The Eel river is one hundred and fifty yards wide, and affords at all times navigation for periaguas, to within eighteen miles of the Miami of the Lake. The Wabash, from the mouth of Eel river to Little river, a distance of fifty miles direct, is interrupted with frequent rapids and shoals, which obstruct the navigation, except in a swell. Little river affords navigation during a swell to within three miles of the Miami, which thence affords a similar navigation into Lake Erie, one hundred miles distant in a direct line. The Wabash overflows periodically in. correspondence with the Ohio, and in some places two leagues from its banks. Green River is navigable for loaded batteaux at all times fifty miles upwards; but it is then interrupted by impassable rapids, above which the navigation again commences and continues good thirty or forty miles to the mouth of Barren river. Kentucky River is ninety yards wide at the mouth, and also at Boonsborough, eighty miles above. It affords a navigation for loaded batteaux one hundred and eighty miles in a direct line, in the winter tides. 16 Jefferson's Works The Great Miami of the Ohio, is two hundred yards wide at the mouth. At the Piccawee towns, seventy-five miles above, it is reduced to thirty yards; it is, nevertheless, navigable for loaded canoes fifty miles above these towns. The portage from its western branch into the Miami of Lake Erie, is five miles; that from its eastern branch into Sandusky river, is of nine miles. Salt River is at all times navigable for loaded batteaux seventy or eighty miles. It is eighty yards wide at its mouth, and keeps that width to its fork, twenty-five miles above. The Little Miami of the Ohio, is sixty or seventy yards wide at its mouth, sixty miles to its source, and affords no navigation. The Sioto is two hundred and fifty yards wide at its mouth, which is in latitude 38 degrees 22', and at the Saltlick towns, two hundred miles above the mouth, it is yet one hundred yards wide. To these towns it is navigable for loaded batteaux, and its eastern branch affords navigation almost to its source. Great Sandy River is about sixty yards wide, and navigable sixty miles for loaded batteaux. Guiandot is about the width of the river last mentioned, but is more rapid. It may be navigated by. canoes sixty miles. The Great Kanhaway is a river of considerable note for the fertility of its lands, and still more, as leading towards the head waters of James river. Nevertheless, it is doubtful whether its great and Notes on Virginia 1 numerous rapids will admit a navigation, but at an expense to which it will require ages to render its inhabitants equal. The great obstacles begin at what are called the Great Falls, ninety miles above the mouth, below which are only five or six rapids, and these passable, with some difficulty, even at low water. From the falls to the mouth of Greenbriar is one hundred miles, and thence to the lead mines one hundred and twenty. It is two hundred and eighty yards wide at its mouth. Hockhocking is eighty yards wide at its mouth, and yields navigation for loaded batteaux to the Press-place, sixty miles above its mouth. The Little Kanhaway is one hundred and fifty yards wide at the mouth. It yields a navigation of ten miles only. Perhaps its. northern branch, called Junius' creek, which interlocks with the western of Monongahela, may one day admit a shorter passage from the latter into the Ohio. The Muskingum is two hundred and eighty yards wide at its mouth, and two hundred yards at the lower Indian towns, one hundred and fifty miles upwards. It is navigable for small batteaux to within one mile of a navigable part of Cuyahoga river, which runs into Lake Erie. At Fort Pitt the river Ohio loses its name, branching into the Monongahela and Alleghany. The Monongahela is four hundred yards wide at its mouth. From thence is twelve or fifteen miles to the mouth of Yohogany, where it is three hundred VOL. II-2 18 Jefferson's Works yards wide. Thence to Redstone by water is fifty miles, by land thirty. Then to the mouth of Cheat river by water forty miles, by land twenty-eight, the width continuing at three hundred yards, and the navigation good for boats. Thence the width is about two hundred yards to the western fork, fifty miles higher, and the navigation frequently interrupted by rapids, which, however, with a swell of two or three feet, become very passable for boats. It then admits light boats, except in dry seasons, sixty-five miles. further to the head of Tygart's valley, presenting only some small rapids and falls of one or two feet perpendicular, and lessening it its width to twenty yards. The Western fork is navigable in the winter ten or fifteen miles towards the northern of the Little Kanhaway, and will admit a good wagon road to it. The Yohogany is the principal branch of this river. It passes through the Laurel mountain, about thirty miles from its mouth; is so far from three hundred to one hundred and fifty yards wide, and the navigation much obstructed in dry weather by rapids and shoals. In its passage through the mountain it makes very great falls, admitting no navigation for ten miles to the Turkey Foot. Thence to the Great Crossing, about twenty miles, it is again navigable, except in dry seasons, and at this place is two hundred yards wide. The sources of this river are divided from those of the Potomac by the Alleghany mountain. From the falls, where it intersects the Laurel mountain, to Notes on Virginia 19 Fort Cumberland, the head of the navigation on the Potomac, is forty miles of very mountainous road. Wills' creek, at the mouth of which was Fort Cumberland, is thirty or forty yards wide, but affords no navigation as yet. Cheat river, another considerable branch of the Monongahela, is two hundred yards wide at its mouth, and one hundred yards at the Dunkard's settlement, fifty miles higher. It is navigable for boats, except in dry seasons. The boundary between Virginia and Pennsylvania crosses it about three or four miles above its mouth. The Alleghany river, with a slight swell, affords navigation for light batteaux to Venango, at the mouth of French Creek, where it is two hundred yards wide, and is practiced even to Le Boeuf, from whence there is a portage of fifteen miles to Presque Isle on the Lake Erie. The country watered by the Mississippi and its eastern branches, constitutes five-eighths of the United States, two of which five-eighths are occupied by the Ohio and its waters ; the residuary streams which run into the Gulf of Mexico, the Atlantic, and the St. Lawrence, water the remaining three-eighths. Before we quit the subject of the western waters, we will take a view of their principal connections with the Atlantic. These are three ; the Hudson river, the Potomac, and the Mississippi itself. Down the last will pass all heavy commodities. But the navigation through the Gulf of Mexico is so dangerous, and that up the Mississippi so difficult and tedious, 20 Jefferson's Works that it is thought probable that European merchandise will not return through that channel. It is most likely that flour, timber, and other heavy articles will be floated on rafts, which will themselves be an article for sale as well as their loading, the navigators returning by land, or in light batteaux. There will, therefore, be a competition between the Hudson and Potomac rivers for the residue of the commerce of all the country westward of Lake Erie, on the waters of the lakes, of the Ohio, and upper parts of the Mississippi. To go to New York, that part of the trade which comes from the lakes or their waters, must first be brought into Lake Erie. Between Lake Superior and its waters and Huron, are the rapids of St. Mary, which will permit boats to pass, but not larger vessels. Lakes Huron and Michigan afford communication with Lake Erie by vessels of eight feet draught. That part of the trade which comes from the waters of the Mississippi must pass from them through some portage into the waters of the lakes. The portage from the Illinois river into a water of Michigan is of one mile only. From the Wabash, Miami, Muskingum, or Alleghany, are portages into the waters of Lake Erie, of from one to fifteen miles. When the commodities are brought into, and have passed through Lake Erie, there is between that and Ontario an interruption by the falls of Niagara, where the portage is of eight miles; and between Ontario and the Hudson river are portages at the falls of Onondago, a little above Notes on Virginia 21 Oswego, of a quarter of a mile; from Wood creek to the Mohawks river two miles ; at the little falls of the Mohawks river half a mile; and from Schenectady to Albany sixteen miles. Besides the increase of expense occasioned by frequent change of carriage, there is an increased risk of pillage produced by committing merchandise to a greater number of hands successively. The Potomac offers itself under the following circumstances: For the trade of the lakes and their waters westward of Lake Erie, when it shall have entered that lake, it must coast along its southern shore, on account of the number and excellence of its harbors ; the northern, though shortest, having few harbors, and these unsafe. Having reached Cuyahoga, to proceed on to New York it will have eight hundred and twenty-five miles and five portages; whereas it is but four hundred and twenty-five miles to Alexandria, its emporium on the Potomac, if it turns into the Cuyahoga, and passes through that, Big Beaver, Ohio, Yohogany, (or Monongahela and Cheat,) and Potomac, and there are but two portages ; the first of which, between Cuyahoga and Beaver, may be removed by uniting the sources of these waters, which are lakes in the neighborhood of each other, and in a champaign country; the other from the waters of Ohio to Potomac will be from fifteen to forty miles, according to the trouble which shall be taken to approach the two navigations. For the trade of the Ohio, or that which shall come into it from its own waters 22 Jefferson's Works or the Mississippi, it is nearer through the Potomac to Alexandria than to New York by five hundred and eighty miles, and it is interrupted by one portage only. There is another circumstance of difference, too. The lakes themselves never freeze, but the communications between them freeze, and the Hudson river is itself shut up by the ice three months in the year ; whereas the channel to the Chesapeake leads directly into a warmer climate. The southern parts of it very rarely freeze at all, and whenever the northern do, it is so near the sources of the rivers, that the frequent .floods to which they are there liable, break up the ice immediately, so that vessels may pass through the whole winter, subject only to accidental and short delays.' Add to all this, that in case of war with our neighbors, the Anglo-Americans or the Indians, the route to New York becomes a frontier through almost its whole length, and all commerce through it ceases from that moment. But the channel to New York is already known to practice, whereas the' upper waters of the Ohio and the Potomac, and the great falls of the latter, are yet to be cleared of their fixed obstructions. See Appendix (A.) QUERY III. A notice of the best Seaports of the State, and how big are the vessels they can receive? Having no ports but our rivers and creeks, this Query has been answered under the preceding one. Notes on Virginia 23 QUERY IV. A notice of its Mountains? For the particular geography of our mountains I must refer to Fry and Jefferson's map of Virginia; and to Evans' analysis of this map of America, for a more philosophical view of them than is to be found in any other work. It is worthy of notice, that our mountains are not solitary and scattered confusedly over the face of the country ; but that they commence at about one hundred and fifty miles from the sea-coast, are disposed in ridges, one behind another, running nearly parallel with the sea-coast, though rather approaching it as they advance northeastwardly. To the south-west, as the tract of country between the sea-coast and the Mississippi be= comes narrower, the mountains converge into a single ridge, which, as it approaches the Gulf of Mexico, subsides into plain country, and gives rise to some of the waters of that gulf, and particularly to a river called the Apalachicola, probably from the Apalachies, an Indian nation formerly residing on it. Hence the mountains giving rise to that river, and seen from its various parts, were called the Apalachian mountains, being in f act the end or termination only of the great ridges passing through the continent. European geographers, however, extended the name northwardly as far as the mountains extended; some giving it, after their separation into different ridges, to the Blue Ridge, others Jefferson's Works to the North Mountain, others to the Alleghany, others to the Laurel Ridge, as may be seen by their different maps. But the fact I believe is, that none of these ridges were ever known by that name to the inhabitants, either native or emigrant, but as they saw them so called in European maps. In the same direction, generally, are the veins of limestone, coal, and other minerals hitherto discovered; and. so range the falls of our great rivers. But the courses of the great rivers are at right angles with these. James and Potomac penetrate through all the ridges of mountains eastward of the Alleghany; that is, broken by no water course. It is in fact the spine of the country between the Atlantic on one side, and the Mississippi and St. Lawrence on the other. The passage of the Potomac through the Blue Ridge is, perhaps, one of the most stupendous scenes in nature. You stand on a very high point of land. On your right comes up the Shenandoah, having ranged along the foot of the mountain an hundred miles to seek a vent. On your left approaches the Potomac, in quest of a passage also. In the moment of their junction, they rush together against the mountain, rend it asunder, and pass off to the sea. The first glance of this scene hurries our senses into the opinion, that this earth has been. created in time, that the mountains were formed first, that the rivers began to flow afterwards, that in this place, particularly, they have been dammed up by the Blue Ridge of mountains, and have formed Notes on Virginia 25 an ocean which filled the whole valley; that continuing to rise they have at length broken over at this spot, and have torn the mountain down from its summit to its base. The piles of rock on each hand, but particularly on the Shenandoah, the evident marks of their disrupture and avulsion from their beds by the most powerful agents of nature, corroborate the impression. But the distant finishing which nature has given to the picture, is of a very different character. It is a true contrast to the foreground. It is as placid and delightful as that is wild and tremendous. For the mountain being cloven asunder, she presents to your eve, through the cleft, a small catch of smooth blue horizon, at an infinite distance in the plain country, inviting you, as it were, from the riot and tumult roaring around, to pass through the breach and participate of the calm below. Here the eye ultimately composes itself ; and that way, too, the road happens actually to lead. You cross the Potomac above the junction, pass along its side through the base of the mountain for three miles, its terrible precipices hanging in fragments over you, and within about twenty miles reach Fredericktown, and the fine country round that. This scene is worth a voyage across the Atlantic. Yet here, as in the neighborhood of the Natural Bridge, are people who have passed their lives within half a dozen miles, and have never been to survey these monuments of a war between rivers and mountains, which must have shaken the earth itself to its centre. See Appendix (B.) 26 Jefferson's Works The height of our mountains has not yet been estimated with any degree of exactness. The Alleghany being the great ridge which divides the waters of the Atlantic from those of the Mississippi, its summit is doubtless more elevated above the ocean than that of any other mountain. But its relative height, compared with the base on which it stands, is not so great as that of some others, the country rising behind the successive ridges like the steps of stairs. The mountains of the Blue Ridge, and of these the Peaks cf Otter, are thought to be of a greater height, measured from their base, than any others in our country, and perhaps in North America. From data, which may found a tolerable conjecture, we suppose the highest peak to be about four thousand feet perpendicular, which is not a fifth part of the height of the mountains of South America, nor one-third of the height which would be necessary in our latitude to preserve ice in the open air unmelted through the year. The ridge of mountains next beyond the Blue Ridge, called by us the North mountain; is of the greatest extent; for which reason they were named by the Indians the endless mountains. A substance supposed to be Pumice, found floating on the Mississippi, has induced a conjecture that there is a volcano on some of its waters; and as these are mostly known to their sources, except the Missouri, our expectations of verifying the conjecture would of course be led to the mountains which divide the waters of the Mexican Gulf from those of the Notes on Virginia 27 South Sea ; but no volcano having ever yet been known at such a distance from the sea, we must rather suppose that this floating substance has been erroneously deemed Pumice. QUERY V. Its Cascades and Caverns? The only remarkable cascade in this country is that of the Falling Spring in Augusta. It is a water of James' river where it is called Jackson's river, rising in the warm spring mountains, about twenty miles southwest of the warm spring, and flowing into that v alley. About three-quarters of a mile from its source it falls over a rock two hundred feet into the valley below. The sheet of water is broken in its breadth by the rock, in two or three places, but not at all in its height. Between the sheet and the rock, at the bottom, you may walk across dry. This cataract will bear no comparison with that of Niagara as to the quantity of water composing it; the sheet being only twelve or fifteen feet wide above and somewhat more spread below; but it is half as high again, the latter being only one hundred and fifty-six feet, according to the mensuration made by order of M. Vaudreuil, Governor of Canada, and one hundred and thirty according to a more recent account. In the lime-stone country there are many caverns of very considerable extent. The most noted is called Madison's Cave, and is on the north side of 28 Jefferson's Works the Blue Ridge, near the intersection of the Rockingham and Augusta line with the south fork of the southern river of Shenandoah. It is in a hill of about two hundred feet perpendicular height, the ascent of which, on one side is so steep that you may pitch a biscuit from its summit into the river which washes its base. The entrance of the cave is in this side about two-thirds of the way up. It extends into the earth about three hundred feet, branching into subordinate caverns, sometimes ascending a little, but more generally descending, and at length terminates, in two different places, at basons of water of unknown extent, and which I should judge to be nearly on a level with the water Notes on Virginia 29 of the river; however, I do not think they are formed by refluent water from that, because they are never turbid; because they do not rise and fall in correspondence with that in times of flood or of drought ; and because the water is always cool.' It is probably one of the many reservoirs with which the interior parts of the earth are supposed to abound, and yield supplies to the fountains of water, distinguished from others only by being accessible. The vault of this cave is of solid lime-stone, from twenty to forty or fifty feet high; through which water is continually percolating. This, trickling down the sides of the cave, has incrusted them over in the form of elegant drapery; and dripping from the top of the vault generates on that and on the base below, stalactites of a conical form, some of which have met and formed massive columns. Another of these caves is near the North mountain, in the county of Frederic, on the lands of Mr. Zane. The entrance into this is on the top of an extensive ridge. You descend thirty or forty feet, as into a well, from whence the cave extends, nearly horizontally, four hundred feet into the earth, preserving a breadth of from twenty to fifty feet, and a height of from five to twelve feet. After entering this cave a few feet, the mercury, which in the open air was 50 degrees, rose to 57 degrees of Fahrenheit's thermometer, answering to 11 degrees of Reaumur's, and it continued at that to the remotest parts of the cave. The uniform temperature of the cellars of the observa- 30 Jefferson's Works tory of Paris, which are ninety feet deep, and of all subterraneous cavities of any depth, where no chemical agencies may be supposed to produce a factitious heat, has been found to be 10 degrees of Reaumur, equal to 54.5 degrees of Fahrenheit. The temperature of the cave above mentioned so nearly corresponds with this, that the difference may be ascribed to a difference of instruments. At the Panther gap, in the ridge which divides the waters of the Crow and the Calf pasture, is what is called the Blowing Cave. It is in the side of a hill, is of about one hundred feet diameter, and emits constantly a current of air of such force as to keep the weeds prostrate to the distance of twenty yards before it. This current is strongest in dry, frosty weather, and in long spells of rain weakest. Regular inspirations and expirations of air, by caverns and fissures, have been probably enough accounted for by supposing them combined with intermitting fountains; as they must of course inhale air while their reservoirs are emptying themselves, and again emit it while they are filling. But a constant issue of air, only varying in its force as the weather is drier or damper, will require a new hypothesis. There is another blowing cave in the Cumberland mountain, about a mile from where it crosses the Carolina line. All we know of this is, that it is not constant, and that a fountain of water issues from it. The Natural Bridge, the most sublime of nature's works, though not comprehended under the present Notes on Virginia 31 head, must not be pretermitted. It is on the ascent of a hill, which seems to have been cloven through its length by some great convulsion. The fissure, just at the bridge, is, by some admeasurement, two hundred and seventy feet deep, by others only two hundred and five. It is about forty-five feet wide at the bottom and ninety feet at the top ; this of course determines the length of the bridge, and its. height from the water. Its breadth in the middle is about sixty feet, but more at the ends, and the thickness of the mass, at the summit of the arch, about forty feet. A part of this thickness is constituted by a coat of earth, which gives growth to many large trees. The residue, with the hill on both sides, is one solid rock of lime-stone. The arch approaches the semi-elliptical form; but the larger axis of the ellipsis, which would be the cord of the arch, is many times longer than the transverse. Though the sides of this bridge are provided in some parts with a parapet of fixed rocks, yet few men have resolution to walk to them, and look over into the abyss. You involuntarily fall on your hands and feet, creep to the parapet, and peep over it. Looking down from this height about a minute, gave me a violent head-ache. If the view from the top be painful and intolerable, that from below is delightful in an equal extreme. It is impossible for the emotions arising from the sublime to be felt beyond what they are here; so beautiful an arch, so elevated, so light, and springing as it were up to heaven ! The 32 Jefferson's Works rapture of the spectator is really indescribable! The fissure continuing narrow, deep, and straight, for a considerable distance above and below the bridge, opens a short but very pleasing view of the North mountain on one side and the Blue Ridge on the other, at the distance each of them of about five miles. This bridge is in the county of Rockbridge, to which it has given name, and affords a public and coininodious passage over a valley which cannot be crossed elsewhere for a considerable distance. The stream passing under it is called Cedar creek. It is a water of James' river, and sufficient in the driest seasons to turn a grist-mill, though its fountain is not more than two miles above.(l) ____________ (1) Don Ulloa mentions a break, similar to this, in the province of Angaraez, in South America. It is from sixteen to twenty-two feet wide, one hundred and eleven feet deep, and of 1.3 miles continuance, English measure. Its breadth at top is not sensibly greater than at bottom. But the following fact is remarkable, and will furnish some light for conjecturing the probable origin of our natural bridge. "Esta caxa, 6 cauce esta cortada en pena viva con tanta precision, que las desigualdades del un lado entrantes, corresponden a las del otro lado salientes, como si aquella altura se hubiese abierto expresamente, con sus bueltas y tortuosidades, para darle transito a los aguas por entre los dos morallones que la forman; siendo tal su igualdad, que si Ilegasen a juntarse se endentarian uno con otro sin dextar hueco." Not. Amer. ii. º 10. Don Ulloa inclines to the opinion that this channel has been effected by the wearing of the water which runs through it, rather than that the mountain should have been broken open by any convulsion of nature. But if it had been worn by the running of water, would not the rocks which form the sides, have been worn plain? or if, meeting in some parts with veins of harder stone, the water had left prominences on the one side, would not the same cause, have sometimes, or. perhaps generally, occasioned prominences on the other side also? Yet Don Ulloa tells us, that on the other side there are always corresponding cavities, and that these tally with the prominences so per __________ Notes on Virginia 33 QUERY VI. A notice of the mines and other subterraneous riches; its trees, plants, fruits, etc. I knew a single instance of gold found in this State. It was interspersed in small specks through a lump of ore of about four pounds weight; which yielded seventeen pennyweights of gold, of extraordinary ductility. This ore was found on the north side of Rappahanoc; about four miles below the falls. I never heard of any other indication of gold in its neighborhood. On the Great Kanhaway, opposite to the mouth of Cripple creek, and about twenty-five miles from our southern boundary, in the county of Montgomery, are mines of lead. The metal is mixed, sometimes with earth, and sometimes with rock, which requires the force of gunpowder to open it; and is accompanied with a portion of silver too small to be worth separation under any process hitherto attempted there. The proportion yielded is from fifty to eighty pounds of pure metal from ono hun- ___________ fectly, that, were the two sides to come together they would fit in all their indentures, without leaving any void. I think that this does not resemble the effect of running water, but looks rather as if the two sides had parted asunder. The sides of the break, over which is the natural bridge of Virginia, consisting of a veiny rock which yields to time, the correspondence between the salient and re-entering inequalities, if it existed at all, has now disappeared. This break has the advantage of the one described by Don Ulloa in its finest circumstance; no portion in that instance having held together, during the separation of the other parts, so as to form a bridge over the abyss. __________ VOL. II-3 34 Jefferson's Works dred pounds of washed ore. The most common is that of sixty to one hundred pounds. The veins are sometimes most flattering, at others they disappear suddenly and totally. They enter the side of the hill and proceed horizontally. Two of them are wrought at present by the public, the best of which is one hundred yards under the hill. These would employ about fifty laborers to advantage. We have not, however, more than thirty generally, and these cultivate their own corn. They have produced sixty tons of lead in the year; but the general quantity is from twenty to twenty-five tons. The present furnace is a mile from the ore bank and on the opposite side of the river. The ore is first wagoned to the river, a quarter of a mile, then laden on board of canoes and carried across the river, which is there about two hundred yards wide, and then again taken into wagons and carried to the furnace. This mode was originally adopted that they might avail themselves of a good situation on a creek for a pounding mill; but it would be easy to have the furnace and pounding mill on the same side of the river, which would yield water, without any dam, by a canal of about half a mile in length. From the furnace the lead is .,transported one hundred and thirty miles along a good road, leading through the peaks of Otter to Lynch's ferry, or Winston's on James' river, from whenee it is carried by water about the same distance to Westham. This land carriage may be greatly shortened, by delivering the Notes on Virginia 35 lead on James' river, above the Blue Ridge, from whence a ton weight has been brought on two canoes. The Great Kanhaway has considerable falls in the neighborhood of the mines. About seven miles below are three falls, of three or four feet perpendicular each; and three miles above is a rapid of three miles continuance, which has been compared in its descent to the great falls of James' river. Yet it is the opinion, that they may be laid open for useful navigation, so as to reduce very much the portage between the Kanhaway and James' river. A valuable lead mine is said to have been lately discovered in Cumberland, below the mouth of Red river. The greatest, however, known in the western country, are on the Mississippi, extending from the mouth of Rock river one hundred and fifty miles upwards. These are not wrought, the lead used in that country being from the banks on the Spanish side of the Mississippi, opposite to Kaskaskia. A mine of copper was once opened in the county of Amherst, on the north side of James' river, and another in the opposite country, on the south side. However, either from bad management or the poverty of the veins, they were discontinued. We are told of a rich mine of native copper on the Ouabache, below the upper Wiaw. The mines of iron worked at present are Callaway's, Ross's, and Ballendine's, on the south side of James' river; Old's on the north side, in Albe- marle; Miller's in Augusta, and Zane's in Frederic. 36 Jefferson's Works These two last are in the valley between the Blue Ridge and North mountain. Callaway's, Ross's, Miller's, and Zane's make about one hundred and fifty tons of bar iron each, in the year. Ross's makes also about sixteen hundred tons. of pig iron annually; Ballendine's one thousand; Callaway's, Miller's, and Zane's, about six hundred each. Besides these, a forge of Mr. Hunter's, at Fredericksburg, makes about three hundred tons a year of bar iron, from pigs imported from Maryland; and Taylor's forge on Neapsco of Potomac, works in the same way, but to what extent I am not informed. The indications of iron in other places are numerous, and dispersed through all the middle country. The toughness of the cast iron of Ross's and Zane's furnaces is very remarkable. Pots and other utensils, cast thinner than usual, of this iron, may be safely thrown into, or out of the wagons in which they are transported. Salt-pans made of the same, and no longer wanted for that purpose, cannot be broken up, in order to be melted again, unless previously drilled in many parts. In the western country, we are told of iron mines between the Muskingum and Ohio ; of others on Kentucky, between the Cumberland and Barren rivers, between Cumberland and Tennessee, on Reedy creek, near the Long Island, and on Chestnut creek, a branch of the Great Kanhaway, near where it crosses the Carolina line. What are called the iron banks, on the Mississippi, are believed, by a Notes on Virginia 37 good judge, to have no iron in them. In general, from what is hitherto known of that country, it seems to want iron. Considerable quantities of black lead are taken occasionally for use from Winterham in the county of Amelia. I am not able, however, to give a particular state of the mine. There is no work established at it; those who want, going and procuring it for themselves. The country on James' river, from fifteen to twenty miles above Richmond, and for several miles northward and southward, is replete with mineral coal of a very excellent quality. Being in the hands of many proprietors, pits have been opened, and, before the interruption of our commerce, were worked to an extent equal to the demand. In the western country coal is known to be in so many places, as to have induced an opinion, that the whole tract between the Laurel mountain, Mississippi, and Ohio, yields coal. It is also known in many places on the north side of the Ohio. The coal at Pittsburg is of very superior quality. A bed of it at that place has been a-fire since the year 1765. Another coal-hill on the Pike-run of Monongahela has been a-fire ten years; yet it has burnt away about twenty yards only. I have known one instance