The report of the Commissioners was referred to a committee consisting of Davie, McCorckle, Jones, Ashe, and Sitgreaves. Jones, as chairman, reported an ordinance ratifying their action, which was unanimously adopted. At a previous meeting a committee of which Senator Hawkins was chairman, recommended the plan of a building 120 feet by 50, three stories high, with a dining-room on the first floor 40 feet by 30, and a public hall on the second and third floors of the same dimensions. This plan was for want of means not approved, and on motion of Davie the location and construction of a building sufficiently large to accommodate 50 students, and also the laying out the village of Chapel Hill and selling lots therein, were directed to be entrusted to seven commissioners, styled the Building Committee, to be elected by ballot.

The following were chosen: Alfred Moore, W. R. Davie, Fred. Hargett, Thomas H. Blount, Alexander Mebane, John Williams and John Haywood, certainly worthy of full confidence.

The committee reported, through John Haywood, at their meeting in Fayetteville in December, 1793. They had met in Hillsboro in April of that year and contracted with George Daniel, of Orange County, for making 350,000 bricks for 40 shillings ($4) per thousand. On the 10th of August following they met at Chapel Hill, marked off sites for the buildings, “together with the necessary quantity of land for offices, avenues and ornamental grounds.” They then laid off the village into lots. In addition to the beauty and natural advantages of the place, they reported that it is “happily accommodated to the introduction and direction of several important public roads, which it is highly probable will in the future lead through it.” They found that a tract of eighty acres, belonging to Hardy Morgan ran inconveniently near the buildings, and therefore bought it for $200. On the 19th of July they contracted with James Patterson, of Chatham County, for erecting a two-storied brick building, 96 feet 7 inches long and 40 feet 1 1-2 inches wide, for $5,000, the University to furnish the brick, sash weights, locks, hooks, fastenings and painting. The building was to contain 16 rooms with four passages, and to be finished by the 1st of November, 1794. The cornerstone was laid on the 12th of October, 1793, and on the same day the lots in the village, reserving a four-acre lot for a residence for the President, were sold for £1.534 ($3,168), payable in one and two years, good security being given. It was thought that “the amount of the sales furnishes a pleasing and undeniable proof of the high estimation in which the beautiful spot is held.” The report is signed by Davie, Moore, Mebane, Blount, and Haywood, from which it is inferrible that Hargett and Williams did not act. The 80-acre tract included the land east of the buildings next to the Raleigh road, which is propably the oldest cleared land of the University site. There are traces on it of a cottage, which was probably tenanted at the time of the purchase.

The 12th of October was the date of many great events in the world's history—of the discovery of America by Columbus, of the birth of that grand evolution of Anglo-Norman-American character, Robert E. Lee, and of our active, progressive, and able ex-President of the University, George Tayloe Winston. In the year 1877 it was made a holiday, University Day. General Davie, as Grand Master of the Free and Accepted Order of Masons, officiated, and Rev. Dr. Samuel E. McCorckle delivered the address, on the occasion of the laying of the corner-stone.

We have fortunately an account of the proceedings of this day so memorable, written by Davie himself, the chief actor. I will endeavor to take the veil from this picture of long ago, and wipe off the dust which obscures it.

The Chapel Hill of 113 years ago was vastly different from the Chapel Hill of to-day. It was covered with a primeval growth of forest trees, with only one or two settlements and a few acres of clearing. Even the trees on the East and West Avenue, named Cameron by the Faculty in recognition of the wise and skillful superintendence by P. C. Cameron of the extensive repairs of our buildings prior to the re-opening in 1875, were still erect. The sweetgums and dogwoods and maples were relieving with their russet and golden hues the general green of the forest. A long procession of people for the first time is marching along the narrow road, afterwards to be widened into a noble avenue. Many of them are clad in the striking, typical insignia of the Masonic Fraternity, their Grand Master arrayed in the full decorations of his rank. They march with military tread, because most of them have seen service, many scarred with wounds of horrid war. Their faces are serious, for they feel that they are engaged in a great work. They are proceeding to lay the foundations of an institution which for weal or woe is to shape the minds of thousands of unborn children; whose influence will be felt more and more, ever widening and deepening as the years roll on, as one of the great forces of civilization.

Let us transport ourselves in imagination and look on this strange procession and see if we can recognize any of them as they step firmly in the pleasant sunshine of the autumnal sun.

The tall, commanding figure most conspicuous in the Grand Master's regalia is that of William Richardson Davie, whom I have heretofore described. The distinguished looking man, “small in statue, neat in his dress, elegant in his manner,” next to Davie, is Davie's great rival, Alfred Moore. Judge Murphey gives us a vivid picture of him also: “His voice was clear and sonorous, his perception quick and judgment almost intuitive. His style was chaste and manner of speaking animated. Having adopted Swift for his model, his language was always plain. The clearness and energy of his mind enabled him almost without an effort to disentangle the most intricate subject and expose it in all its parts to the simplest understanding. He spoke with ease and with force, enlivened his discourse with flashes of wit, and where the subject required it with all the bitterness of sarcasm. His speeches were short and impressive. When he sat down every one thought he had said everything he ought to have said.” His learning and acquirements secured for him a seat on the bench of one of the most august tribunals in the world—the Supreme Court of the United States.

In that procession appeared one too who had highest reputation among his contemporaries as an enlightened lawyer, William H. Hill, heretofore described, father of the brilliant young man whose death filled the whole State with grief, Joseph A. Hill.

We next see one who was for many years the most popular man in North Carolina, John Haywood. For forty years—1787 to 1827—he was Treasurer of the State. His hospitality was unbounded. He made it a rule to invite specially to an entertainment at his house at each session of the General Assembly, which then met annually, every member. His kindness and charity were absolutely inexhaustible. In reading over the University records I find that for over thirty years he scarcely missed a meeting of the Board, whether held at Chapel Hill or Raleigh. His name is perpetuated not only by the memory of his distinguished sons, but by one of our loveliest mountain counties and by a neighboring town, which once aspired to be the capital of the State and site of the University.

Marching with Haywood was Gen. Alexander Mebane, of the old Scotch-Irish stock, who settled the Haw Fields in Alamance, something of whose history has been given.

In that procession was also John Williams, founder of Williamsboro, in Granville County, whose strong, sturdy sense enabled him to step with short interval from the bench of the carpenter to the bench of the judge of the first court under the Constitution of 1776. He was likewise a member of the Congress of the Confederation.

Thomas Blount, member from Edgecombe, soon to enter Congress and to become an attached colleague of Nathaniel Macon, was likewise present.

Prominent in this procession was the venerable Hargett, Senator from Jones, plain, solid, but eminently trustworthy.

After these came other Trustees. Who they were, with the exception of McCorkle, we have no record.

After the Trustees march State officers, not Trustees; among them Judge Spruce McKoy, of Salisbury, and doubtless John Taylor, the first Steward of the University, and the officers of the county; and then followed the gentlemen of the vicinity, the donors of the land and their neighbors, and among them Patterson, of Chatham, the contractor for the building. Since that day we have had processions, year by year, on our Commencement days, and in their columns men learned and distinguished in all the pursuits of life, but never has there been a procession more imposing than that which laid the cornerstone of the Old East, on the 12th day of October, 1793.

The orator of the day, Dr. Samuel E. McCorkle, was one of the most noted educators of that period. He was one of the sturdy Scotch-Irish, who made the north of Ireland famous throughout all lands for triumphs of intelligent industry and thrift, whose glorious defence of Londonderry stands unexcelled in the annals of human valor and endurance; who gave to North Carolina many of its leaders in war and peace—Grahams and Jacksons, Johnstons, Brevards, Alexanders, Mebanes and hosts of others, but above all most of its faithful and zealous instructors of youth, such as Dr. Caldwell, of Guilford, and Dr. Caldwell, of the University, Dr. Ker and Mr. Harris, its first professors, and that progenitor of a line of able and cultured teachers and founder of a school eminent for nearly a century for its widespread and multiform usefulness, William Bingham, the first.

Dr. McCorkle was among the foremost of these. He was beyond his generation as a teacher. His school at Thyatira, six miles west of Salisbury, spread abroad not only classical learning but sound religious training. He attached to it a department specially for teachers—the first normal school, I feel sure, in America. The first class which graduated at our University consisted of seven members; six of them had been pupils of Dr. McCorkle. And it is gratifying that one of the first graduates of the revived University was a relative of his, George McCorkle, of Catawba, the Chief Marshal of 1876.

The name Zion-Parnassus, which he gave to his school at Thyatira, shows how he combined the culture of the Bible and the culture of the Muses. The first Board of Trustees of the University was composed of the greatest men of the State, and among them—Senators, Governors, Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States and of the State—was Dr. McCorkle, the solitary preacher and solitary teacher. He was one of the best friends the University had; worked for it, begged for it, preached for it. It was most fitting that he should deliver the first address at the University, to be followed by a long line of eloquent men.

We have a report of the address made by Dr. McCorkle on this momentous occasion. It is replete with wisdom and noble thoughts, and proves that the estimation placed on him by the men of his day was fully earned.

“Observing on the natural and necessary connection between learning and religion, and the importance of religion to the promotion of national happiness and national undertakings, he said,” “It is our duty to acknowledge that sacred scriptural truth, except the Lord build the house they labor in vain who build it. Except the Lord watcheth the city the watchman walketh but in vain.” For my own part I feel myself prostrated with a sense of these truths, and this I feel not only as a minister of religion, but also as a citizen of the State—as a member of the civil as well as the religious society.”

After laying down the proposition that the happiness of mankind is increased by the advancement of learning and science, the doctor observed, “Happiness is the centre to which all the duties of man and people tend. . . . To diffuse the greatest possible degree of happiness in a given territory is the aim of good government and religion. Now the happiness of a nation depends on national wealth and national glory and cannot be gained without them. They in like manner depend on liberty and good laws. Liberty and laws call for general knowledge in the people and extensive knowledge in matters of the State, and these in turn demand public places of education. . . . How can any nation be happy without national wealth? How can that nation or man be happy that is not procuring and securing the necessary conveniences and accommodations of life; ease without indolence and plenty without luxury or waste? How can glory or wealth be procured without liberty and laws? They must check luxury, encourage industry and protect wealth. They must secure me the glory of my actions and save me from a bow-string or a bastille. And how are these objects to be gained without general knowledge? Knowledge is wealth—it is glory—whether among philosophers, ministers of State or religion, or among the great mass of the people. Britons glory in the name of Newton and have honored him with a place among the sepulchres of their kings. Americans glory in the name of Franklin, and every nation boasts of her great men, who has them. Savages cannot have, rather cannot educate them, though many a Newton has been born and buried among them. Knowledge is liberty and law. When the clouds of ignorance have been dispelled by the radiance of knowledge power trembles, but the authority of the laws remain inviolable; and how this knowledge productive of so many advantages to mankind can be acquired without public places of education I know not.”

The eyes of the orator kindled as he looked into the future. “The seat of the University was next sought for,” he said, “and the public eye selected Chapel Hill—a lovely situation in the centre of the State, at a convenient distance from the capital, in a healthy and fertile neighborhood. May this hill be for religion as the ancient hill of Zion; and for literature and the muses, may it surpass the ancient Parnassus! We this day enjoy the pleasure of seeing the cornerstone of the University, its material and the architect for the building, and we hope ere long to see its stately walls and spire ascending to their summit. Ere long we hope to see it adorned with an elegant village, accommodated with all the necessaries and conveniences of civilized society.”

“The discourse was followed by a short but animated prayer, closed with the united amen of an immense concourse of people.”

We thank thee for thy golden words, thou venerable father of education in our State. On this foundation the University desires to rest, the enlightenment of the people, their instruction not alone in secular learning but in religious truth, leading up to and sustaining liberty by demanding and shaping beneficent laws under which wealth may be accumulated and individual happiness and national glory be secured, all sanctified by the blessings of God; these are the objects, these are the methods, these are the good rewards of the University.

But the beginnings of the University were in troublous times. Its struggles were not only with want and penury, but with ignorance and prejudice and a wild spirit of lawlessness.

All the world was in a ferment. The passions of the era flamed across the ocean and enkindled sympathetic passions in our midst. Furious efforts were made to force the United States into alliance with the French Republic. The vision of the sister democracies of the Old World and the New, marching shoulder to shoulder to plant in every capital the standard of universal freedom, and conquering together a universal peace, aroused every sentiment of romantic philanthropy and quixotic gratitude.

The rage of parties was strong in North Carolina, as elsewhere. It stood in the way of all measures for the advancement of the public good. It stimulated bad passions, prevented co-operation, divided the people into hostile camps. In the general excitement the cause of education was little regarded, and but for the wisdom of such men as Davie and Moore and Mebane and Haywood and Hill the new-born University would have been strangled in its infancy.

The population of the State was only about 400,000, of whom about 100,000 were slaves. The permanent seat of government had just been chosen. The city of Raleigh was located in 1792, the State-house was not finished until 1794. The inhabitants of the State lived remote from one another, and mutual intercourse was prevented not only by long distances but by the execrable roads and the almost entire absence of spring vehicles. The two-wheeled sulky and stick-back gig were possessed by the better class, while only a few of the wealthiest could boast of the lumbering coach. Most traveling was on horseback, it being quite the fashion for the lady to sit behind the gentleman and steady herself by an arm around his waist.

The diffusion of intelligence through most of the regions of the State was by the chance traveler or the wagoner. In 1790 there were only 75 post-offices in all the Union, now there are over 70,000. There were only 1,875 miles of post roads in all the Union, now there are over 400,000. Then there was only one letter to 17 people, now there are over 20 letters to each person. Then there were only 265,500 letters carried in a year; now there are largely over 1,000,000,000. Then the postage was from seven to 33 cents, according to distance; now for two cents a letter will go with great certainty to the shores of the Pacific, even to distant Alaska among the frozen latitudes. In his message to the Legislature of 1790 Governor Alexander Martin complained that there is only one mail route in the State, and that runs only through the seaboard towns; that only a few inhabitants derive advantage from that establishment in comparison to the general bulk of the people of the interior country. Five years afterwards Prof. Harris, when a weekly mail had been established, writes, “Our news at this place (Chapel Hill) has given us more trouble and disappointment than information. I joined Mr. Ker, acting president, in getting Browne's daily paper, but it has not arrived by the two last posts, and if it does not come more regularly we must discontinue it.” The old records show that it was a common practice to send a special messenger, called an “express,” when important communication became necessary between the University authorities and the Trustees.

The state of education was at a low ebb. There were no public schools and few private schools. I am fortunately able to give information on this subject from Judge Archibald Murphey, an early student of the University; after his graduation one of its professors. He says: “Before this University came into operation in 1795 there were not more than three schools in the State in which the rudiments of a classical education could be acquired. The most prominent and useful of these schools was kept by Mr. David Caldwell, of Guilford County. He initiated it shortly after the close of the war and continued it for more than thirty years. The usefulness of Dr. Caldwell to the literature of the State will never be sufficiently appreciated, but the opportunities of instruction in the school were very limited. There was no library attached to it. His students were supplied with a few of the Greek and Latin classics, Euclid's Elements of Mathematics and Martin's Natural Philosophy. Moral Philosophy was taught from a syllabus of lectures by Dr. Witherspoon in Princeton College. The students had no books on history or miscellaneous literature. There were very few indeed in the State, except in the libraries of lawyers who lived in the commercial towns. I well remember that after completing my course of studies under Dr. Caldwell, I spent nearly two years without finding any books to read except old works on theological subjects. At length I accidentally met with Voltaire's History of Charles XII. of Sweden, and an odd volume of Smollett's Roderick Random and an abridgement of Don Quixote. These books gave me a taste for reading which I had no opportunity of gratifying until I became a student of the University in 1796. Few of Dr. Caldwell's students had better opportunities of getting books than myself, and with those slender opportunities of instruction it is not at all surprising that so few have become eminent in the liberal professions. At this day (1827) when libraries are established in all our towns, when every professional man and every respectable gentleman has a collection of books, it is difficult to conceive the inconvenience under which young men labored thirty or forty years ago.” And yet there were men who, like Judge Murphey, conquered all these difficulties and rose, conspicuous for learning and science.

I am satisfied that Judge Murphey was mistaken as to the number of classical schools. There were others, but very far from being sufficient to supply the needs of the State.

The North American Review in 1821 said that, “In an ardent and increasing zeal for the establishment of schools and academies for several years past, we do not believe North Carolina has been outdone by a single State. The academy at Raleigh was founded in 1804, previously to which there were only two institutions of the kind in the State. The number at present is nearly forty, and is rapidly increasing. Great pains are taken to procure the best instructors from different parts of the country, and we have the best authority for our opinion, that in no part of the Union are the interests of education better understood and under better regulation than in the middle counties of North Carolina. The schools for females are particularly celebrated and are much resorted to from Georgia, South Carolina and Virginia. In the year 1816 the number of students at academies within the compass of forty miles amounted to more than one thousand.”

Soon after the laying of the cornerstone of the Old East, the President's dwelling was begun. This was located opposite to the present Commons Hall, and is now occupied by Prof. Gore. It was the residence of Professor Ker, then of Professor Gillaspie; then for some years of President Caldwell. In the year 1807 he married the widow of William Hooper, son of the signer of the Declaration of Independence, who had removed from Hillsboro to Chapel Hill in order to educate her sons; he then removed to her residence at the southeast corner of Franklin and Hillsboro streets. This caused the “President's house” to become the residence of professors.