THE UNIVERSITY'S EARLY DAYS
There were several candidates among the towns of the State for the honor
of having the University. Detroit, Monroe, and Marshall were mentioned,
but an offer of forty acres of land by the Ann Arbor Land Company,
previously offered unsuccessfully as a site for the state capitol,
proved the most attractive bid, and the Legislature voted in favor of
Ann Arbor in an act signed by the Governor, March 20, 1837. The town was
then fourteen years old and boasted some 2,000 inhabitants, who
supported four churches, two newspapers, two banks, seventeen drygoods
stores, eleven lawyers, nine doctors, and eight mills and manufacturing
plants, including a good-sized plow factory. Nevertheless it was in
essentials a frontier community. There are those still living who
remember the Indians who came in to town to trade,--presumably at those
seventeen drygoods stores. Transportation was primitive, the first
railroad did not come until 1839; while great tracts of uninhabited land
lay on every side.
Of the twelve Regents by appointment who were members of the first
Board, six had been members of the Constitutional Convention, two were
physicians, and four were lawyers; seven had received collegiate
degrees, while one, Henry R. Schoolcraft, was the best authority of that
time on the American Indian. General Crary appears to have been the only
one who had previously concerned himself with educational matters, so
it is small wonder that some impracticable measures were taken.
To those of us who look back now with the advantage of "hind-sight," the
mistakes of the first Board are obvious. Two tracts of land were
considered as possible sites for the University. The choice fell upon
the wrong one, and we now have the present Campus, undistinguished by
any natural advantages, instead of the commanding location on the hills
overlooking the Huron, recommended by the committee appointed at the
first session. We do not know now why the change was made, though there
must have been some little discussion, as it was only made by a vote of
6 to 5. We can only imagine now how much more beautiful and impressive
the buildings of the future University might have been, lining the brows
of the hills overlooking the Huron Valley, rather than spreading over
the flat rough clearing of the Rumsey farm that by that time had lost
the attraction which the original forest trees must once have given it.
For many years the present Campus remained what it was originally, a bit
of farm land, where wheat was grown on the unoccupied portions and where
the families of the four professors who lived on the Campus gathered
peaches from the old farm orchard.
[Illustration: THE CAMPUS IN 1855 (From a painting by Cropsey)]
At their first meeting the Regents undertook the preliminary steps
towards the appointment of a Faculty, though a resolution asking for a
change in the University Act, giving them power to elect and prescribe
the duties of a Chancellor of the University, suggests that they were
uncertain of their powers in this matter. Four prospective
professorships were established and though the report of the committee
on the matter was not adopted as presented, the assignment of the
subjects is suggestive; they included a Professor of Mental
Philosophy, whose field was to comprise Moral Philosophy, Natural
Theology, Rhetoric, Oratory, Logic, and the History of All Religions; a
Professor of Mathematics, to have also in charge Civil Engineering and
Architecture; a Professor of Languages, to have in charge the Roman and
Greek languages; and a Professor of Law. This action came four years
before the actual appointment of Professors of Languages and Mathematics
and twenty-two years before a Professor of Law was needed. A librarian,
the Rev. Henry Colclazer, was also appointed, the first officer of the
University chosen, though he did not assume his duties or his munificent
salary of $100 a year until 1841. The question of the organization of
the branches, which became the perennial subject of discussion at all
the early meetings of the Board, also came up at this time through the
authorization of a Committee on Branches, and a request that the
Superintendent of Public Instruction furnish an "outline of a plan of
the University."
From this time on meetings of the Regents were held with fair
regularity, either in Ann Arbor or, more usually, in the capitol city,
which at that time was Detroit. Occasional difficulties in obtaining a
quorum are discernible, however, in the reports of the early meetings.
The trip on horseback or stage from Detroit to Ann Arbor during the
first two years was not always easy or convenient, while there was
little to arouse enthusiasm in the slow development of the Campus. The
question of a library and scientific apparatus interested the Board from
the first meeting and among their early purchases was a collection of
minerals made by one Baron Lederer which consisted of 2,600 specimens,
purchased in January, 1838, for $4,000. In July of the same year, Dr.
Asa Gray was made a Professor of Botany and Zoölogy, the first
professor to be appointed. He was contemplating a trip to Europe and was
entrusted by the Regents with $5,000 for the purchase of a library. This
charge he performed to the great satisfaction of the Regents, sending
back a collection of 3,700 volumes in all the branches ordinarily taught
at that time, including many books unobtainable in America. This task
ended Professor Gray's connection with Michigan. Practically all his
long and distinguished career was spent as a professor in Harvard
University. Another purchase of this period, probably the first
acquisition for the library, which seems curiously extravagant for the
officers of an "incipient" University, was Audubon's "Birds of America."
At the present time it is worth many times the $970 paid for it then,
but one wonders, in view of the extreme slenderness of the resources of
the University, just what was the idea which led to its purchase. It was
in any case an evidence of the interest of the Board in practical
scientific studies and their sympathy with what was then the progressive
movement in education.
Meanwhile the Regents were making haste slowly in erecting the
University buildings. In accordance with the "grand design" of the
University Act, a New Haven architect was commissioned to prepare what
proved to be, according to Superintendent Pierce, "a truly magnificent
design." The Governor and the Board of Regents approved this plan but
the Superintendent of Public Instruction, with a better sense of
realities, refused his assent. He maintained that a university did not
consist of fine buildings, "but in the number and ability of its
Professors, and in its other appointments, as libraries, cabinets, and
works of art." So this scheme which would have cost five hundred
thousand dollars, or twice the amount of what had at that time been
realized from the University lands, was abandoned, apparently to the
great disappointment of the citizens of Ann Arbor, who showed their
disapproval by a public indignation meeting.
The plan finally adopted had at least the merit of modesty and some
degree of serviceability. It called for the erection of six buildings,
two to serve as dormitories and class rooms and four as professors'
houses, all on the Campus. The first of the dormitories was completed in
1841, at a cost of about $16,000; while the four professors' houses,
which were ready at the same time, cost $30,850. The dormitory, which
was the first University building, is now the north wing of University
Hall. It was a gaunt, bleak structure in those days, one hundred and ten
by forty feet, whose stark outlines were softened nowhere by trees and
shrubbery. The original plan called for sixty-four bedrooms and
thirty-two studies, but the necessity of including a chapel and a
recitation room on the first and second floors, the library on the
third, and a museum on the fourth, severely limited the space for the
students' rooms. In 1843 the building was named Mason Hall, in honor of
the late Governor who had just died, but the name was long forgotten
until revived in 1914, when a tablet was placed by the D.A.R. on the
building, which has since been called by that name. Contemporary opinion
is reflected in a description of this building in the _Michigan State
Journal_ of August 10, 1841, where we read: "More classical models or a
more beautiful finish cannot be imagined. They honor the architect,
while they beautify the village." From this one cannot but suspect that
journalistic exaggeration is not entirely a latter-day fault, although
the opinion of Governor Barry seems to have been somewhat the same when
he charged the Regents with "vast expenditures" for "large and
commodious buildings, which ... will doubtless at some future period be
wanted for occupation and use."
As a matter of fact the Governor's strictures were not entirely
unjustified, as the four professors' houses proved a continual source of
annoyance and expense, while the wisdom of erecting a building to be
used largely as a dormitory when students could easily have lived in the
town, as they do nowadays, was doubtful. Governor Barry is reported to
have said in 1842 that "as the State had the buildings and had no other
use for them, it was probably best to continue the school." That was in
the period of the lowest ebb of the University's fortunes which followed
soon after its doors were opened, and, as Professor Ten Brook remarked,
it showed that the balance of the scale between suspending and going
forward may have been turned in favor of the University by the bare fact
of having these architectural preparations. The second and corresponding
building was not erected until 1849 at the cost of about $13,000. A few
months later the Medical Building was completed.
The affairs of the University were in a critical state by 1843. The sale
of the state lands had resulted in no such sum as had been expected; the
branches had been eating up what little income there was; while an
unfortunate bit of financiering on the part of the Regents in 1838,
involving a loan of $100,000 from the State for the immediate completion
of the necessary buildings and the establishment of the branches, only
added to the difficulties. The history of this loan is a complicated one
which does not need to be detailed here. The expense incurred in
establishing the branches, the purchases for the library and mineral
collections, and the erection of the buildings practically exhausted
it. When it was made the Regents supposed that the income from the state
lands would more than cover the interest, but this proved a vain hope.
Practically every bit of the University's income was needed for this
purpose. The situation was only saved in 1844 by the Legislature
permitting the Regents to apply depreciated treasury notes and other
state scrip received for the sale of University lands at a fixed
valuation in the payment of this debt, as well as accepting some
property in Detroit. This relieved the situation so that soon after that
time the Regents were able to report that the disbursements were less
than the receipts. For several years the State exacted interest for this
loan and in 1850 deducted $100,000 from the University fund held by the
State. Three years later, however, the Legislature directed that the
interest upon the whole amount of the lands sold be paid to the
University. This was done by successive Legislatures until in 1877 the
$100,000 was finally returned to the University fund through an
adjustment of the accounting system of the State. Whether the return of
this $100,000 constitutes a gift to the University by the State is still
a matter of discussion. Professor Ten Brook, in his "History of American
State Universities," written, however, in 1875, before the final
adjustment was made, maintained that the University had already paid
this debt, while Professor Hinsdale, in his later "History of the
University," more properly insisted that actually the University never
repaid the debt, and that this $100,000 was eventually made a gift and
thus became the first direct state support of the University of
Michigan.
The whole history of the early finances of the University is one of
great expectations and of small resources not always judiciously used.
The sums expended upon the branches were not spent in vain, for they
provided the scholastic foundation of the University in its first years.
Nor is the erection of University buildings to be criticized, except as
to their impractical character. This defect the experience of a few
years was to show, for one of the first acts of Dr. Tappan, when he
became President in 1852, was to end the use of the two University
buildings as dormitories; while the professors' houses, with the
exception of the one reserved as the President's residence, were
eventually used for general University purposes and at one time were
even let as boarding houses.
In September, 1841, the University first opened its doors with a Faculty
of two. The first Professor appointed to assume active duties was the
Rev. George Palmer Williams, formerly the head of the Pontiac branch,
who was elected in July, 1841, as Professor of Languages. In August, the
Rev. Joseph Whiting was elected Professor of Languages, and Professor
Williams was transferred to the Professorship of Mathematics, and,
later, of Natural Philosophy. Strictly speaking these two were not the
first professors in the University, as Asa Gray had received his
appointment as Professor of Botany in July, 1838, and Dr. Douglass
Houghton had been elected Professor of Chemistry, Zoölogy, and
Mineralogy in October, 1839. Though both of these distinguished men
rendered services to the University, one in the selection of the
library, and the other in contributions to the scientific collections,
neither ever met any classes.
[Illustration: TWO OF THE UNIVERSITY'S OLDEST BUILDINGS
THE PRESIDENT'S HOUSE
The only one of the original four professors' houses
THE OLD MEDICAL BUILDING
Torn down in 1914]
The grand total of the students who ventured to try the educational
facilities offered when the University at last got down to business was
exactly six: Judson D. Collins, Lyndon Township; Merchant H. Goodrich,
Ann Arbor; Lyman D. Norris, Ypsilanti; George E. Parmalee, Ann Arbor;
George W. Pray, Superior; and William B. Wesson, Detroit. By the time
this class was graduated in 1845, the number had increased to twelve.
The mental fare set before this little company consisted of the
traditional classical curriculum, which differed not at all from the
ordinary college course of those days in spite of the progressive spirit
of the founders. For the Freshmen, Livy, Xenophon, and algebra occupied
the first term. Horace, Thucydides, Herodotus, and Roman antiquities,
more algebra, geometry and botany, the second term; while Horace, Homer,
geometry, mensuration, and the application of algebra to geometry
completed the year. More Greek and Latin and higher mathematics were
scheduled for the second year, while science in the shape of lectures in
zoölogy and chemistry and two courses in intellectual and moral science,
represented by Abercrombie's "Intellectual Powers" and Paley's "Natural
Theology," were added to their classical and mathematical studies during
the third year. Geology and calculus were introduced the fourth year, as
well as courses in philosophy, moral science, psychology, logic,
economics, and political science. No modern languages, medieval or
modern history, or laboratory courses in science, save what practical
demonstrations could be made from the cabinet of minerals, were offered,
to say nothing of engineering, architecture, law, or medicine. The
traditions of centuries were still too strong and the institution too
weak.
Upon this modest foundation the curriculum slowly grew; new
professorships were added from time to time as they became imperatively
necessary, so that little by little opportunities developed for the
leaven of the new spirit in education to work. In 1843 the Rev. Edward
Thomson, afterwards President of Ohio Wesleyan University, was
appointed Professor of Moral and Intellectual Philosophy. He only stayed
one year; and was succeeded by the Rev. Andrew Ten Brook, in after years
Librarian and historian of the University. In 1842, Abram Sager, M.D.,
afterwards a member of the Medical Faculty, was made Professor of
Zoölogy and Botany, while Silas H. Douglas, M.D., who was later to
organize the Chemical Laboratory, came in 1844 as an assistant to the
absent Professor of Chemistry, Dr. Houghton. The chair of Logic,
Rhetoric, and History was filled the next year by the Rev. Daniel D.
Whedon; while the chair of Greek and Latin, left vacant by the death of
Dr. Whiting about this time, was filled by the Rev. John H. Agnew. In
1846, a Professor of Modern Languages, Louis Fasquelle, LL.D., was
appointed and became one of the most distinguished members of that early
group.
These were the men who cast their lot with the very precarious fortunes
of the new University. The first two resident members of the Faculty,
who came to the University from the branches, suffered a considerable
diminution of their salary, as the scale outlined at the first Regents'
Meeting was more than halved; they received annually but five hundred
dollars and the rent of their houses. In fact it was not for many years
that the $2,000 maximum salary first established was reached. Even these
salaries were not certain in the dark days of 1842 and 1843, when the
Regents felt it their duty to make known to the Faculty the University's
financial difficulties. The University owes not a little, surely, to
these men who signified their willingness to stick by the institution
and to endure privations and hardships as long as there was hope.
Life for the students in those days was also no bed of academic ease,
though it was perhaps no harder than the home life to which they were
accustomed. One study with the two adjoining bedrooms was assigned to
two students who were expected to care for their own rooms and sweep the
dirt into the halls for Pat Kelly, the "Professor of Dust and Ashes," as
well as to cut their own wood at the woodpile behind the building and
carry it in, sometimes up three flights of stairs. Chapel exercises were
held from 5:30 to 6:30 in the morning and at 4:30 or 5:00 in the
afternoon, according to the time of year, and were compulsory. Tradition
has it that the efforts of the official monitors were supplemented by
the janitor, whose duty it was to ring a bell, borrowed from the
Michigan Central Railroad, and who aroused more than one delinquent by
shouting, "Did yez hear the bell?", a commentary either on the bell or
on Pat Kelly's voice. To a student of modern days the greatest hardship
would appear in the first recitation of the day before breakfast
following chapel exercises. Three classes were held daily except on
Saturday, when there was only one recitation and an exercise in
elocution.
On Sunday the students were obliged to attend service in some one of the
churches, and monitors, sometimes not overzealous, were on hand to see
that they attended. The expenses are given as from $80 to $100 a year,
with an entrance fee of $10 and an annual tax of $7.50 for the use of
the room and janitor's services. Students were allowed to leave the
Campus for their meals but were expected to be on hand from morning
prayers to 7:30 A.M., from 9:00 A.M. to 12:00 noon, from 2:00 to 5:00
P.M. and from 7:00 or 8:00 to 9:00 P.M., after which no student was
permitted to leave the Campus. The question of illumination was a
serious one in those days, and these periods varied somewhat with the
length of daylight. The cost of candles for early recitations and chapel
exercises was borne by the students.
The number of students increased each year up to 1847-48, when there
were 89 enrolled. After that time, the withdrawal of University support
from the branches and their gradual abandonment began to show its effect
in the enrolment, which dropped to 57 in 1851-52. Twenty-three students
were graduated with the class of 1849, while there were only nine in
1852. The struggling little towns of the State found enough difficulty
for the time in supporting primary schools. The branches, however, had
proved their necessity, and it was not long before the rise of the Union
schools began to provide a stream of students which has flowed to the
University uninterruptedly since that time.
[Illustration: FOUR MEMBERS OF THE EARLY FACULTY
George Palmer Williams (1802-1881)
Andrew Ten Brook (1814-1899)
Abram Sager (1810-1877)
Thomas McIntyre Cooley (1824-1898)]
There was another and probably more immediate reason for the falling off
in attendance. This was the great struggle between the Faculty and the
students over the establishment of Greek-letter societies, a contest
which became so bitter that not only the town but the State Legislature
was involved. A large number of students were expelled, and eventually
the whole relationship between students and Faculty was placed upon a
different basis. The trouble began in the spring of 1846, when some
student depredations were traced to a small log house situated in the
depths of what was then known as the Black Forest, the deep wood which
extended far east of the Campus. This building, which probably stood
somewhere on the present site of the Forest Hill Cemetery, was
discovered to be the headquarters of the Chi Psi fraternity, the first
chapter house built by any American college fraternity. When the faculty
investigator sought entrance to this building, he found his way
barred by resolute fratres. This led to the ultimate disclosure of the
fact that two fraternities, Chi Psi and Beta Theta Pi, had been
established in the University for at least a year, in direct violation
of a regulation known as Rule 20, apparently in force for some time,
which provided that:
No student shall be or become a member of any society connected
with the University which has not first submitted its Constitution
to the Faculty and received their approval.
The students involved, however, were willing enough to give lists of
their members, relying upon their numbers and their affiliation with
similar organizations in other colleges to avoid any unpleasant
consequences. The Faculty thought otherwise; though as events proved
their authority was not too well defined. Meanwhile another society,
Alpha Delta Phi, had submitted a constitution to the Faculty for
approval; but owing to the press of other matters it was not considered
and the chapter was organized with no action by the authorities. The
greater number of the students in the University thus became members of
the three Greek-letter fraternities.
The Faculty was disturbed, but apparently did not take the matter too
seriously at first and decided to allow the societies to continue,
merely exacting pledges from all new students to join no society without
approval by the Faculty; thus providing as they thought, for an early
demise of the fraternities. It did not work out that way, however. The
chapter of Alpha Delta Phi held that their society existed at least by
sufferance of the Faculty, and proceeded to initiate members, a fact
that was not discovered until March, 1847. Then followed a series of
suspensions and re-admissions of students who had promised not to join
these societies. Not only were they obliged to resign their membership,
but the original members of Alpha Delta Phi were compelled formally to
submit to re-admission to the University, pledging themselves not to
consent to the initiation of any members of the University in the
society in opposition to Rule 20. The matter rested here until the
following November, when the society presented a second constitution,
which was received by the Faculty with the announcement that they had no
authority to legalize the society. This reply was answered by the
students with a plea that if the Faculty had no authority to legalize
their fraternity then they had no authority to forbid it. Later another
fraternity asked for re-admission with similar results.
Meanwhile these organizations were maintaining themselves. Letters to
the Presidents of six Eastern colleges brought replies most unfavorable
to the fraternities and seemed to indicate to the Faculty that elsewhere
the fraternities were under a strict ban. The students, however, knew
that the facts were otherwise and that fraternities were flourishing in
most of the institutions where they had been established. Finally in
December, 1849, a list of members of the Chi Psi fraternity, which
included the names of many new students, was found in a University
catalogue. The defense set up by the chapter was that they were not
members of a society "_in_ the University of Michigan" but "_in_ Ann
Arbor," that they did not meet on University grounds, and that they had
admitted three members who were not students. One of these members was,
in fact, a member of the Board of Regents. The society, therefore, was
not connected with the University and did not consist of students. This
defense was considered only an evasion and on the last day of the term
in 1849 the Faculty announced that the members of Chi Psi and Alpha
Delta Phi, whose names had in the meantime been made public, must cease
their connection with the University, unless they renounced their
connection with their fraternities. Of the members of these two
societies seven withdrew their membership; the others were expelled. The
members of Beta Theta Pi were not expelled until September, 1850,
apparently because the constitution had not yet been signed, to the
disgust of one member of the Faculty, who considered this excuse only a
legalistic quibble. Some of the students expelled went to other
institutions, some eventually returned to the University, while others
ended their college days.
This action naturally caused an uproar; neither the Faculty nor the
Regents were unanimous in approval of these measures; while the citizens
of Ann Arbor held an indignation meeting and appointed a committee to
ask the Legislature for a change in the administration of the
University. The Faculty prepared a report to the Regents stating their
case strongly and even bitterly, characterizing the whole history of
these three societies as "a detail of obliquities," and their "extended
affiliations as a great irresponsible authority, a monster power, which
lays its hand upon every College Faculty in our country"; they were also
fearful of the "debauchery, drunkenness, pugilism, and duelling, ... and
the despotic power of disorder and ravagism, rife among their German
prototypes." This report was signed by all the Faculty, though the
opinion was not unanimous, nor had all the actions of individual members
been consistent.
The Regents also made a report sustaining the Faculty, and both were
submitted to the Legislature, accompanied by a reply made by the seven
reinstated students, who denied the charges. They even maintained that
Rule 20 was a dead letter and that one of the Professors, when consulted
at the time one of the fraternities was founded, did not disapprove, or
quote this law. A memorial was also submitted by fifteen "neutral"
students sustaining the Faculty and suggesting that the threatened
legislation, which was advocated by the committee of Ann Arbor citizens,
was the greatest obstacle to harmony. Unfortunately this legislative
action was just what seemed inevitable for some time. The Ann Arbor
citizens represented that the University was failing, and that the only
way to save it was by an entire change in its organic law, the
appointment of a new Faculty, and the recognition of that natural right
of man--to form secret societies if he so elects.
Their case before the Legislature, however, had been weakened by the
action of two students who had circulated a week or so in advance a
garbled and caricatured form of the Faculty report, which had been
submitted honorably to the students to enable them to make a reply if
they so desired. This undoubtedly prejudiced the student case when the
truth became known, and the net result was no action by the Legislature
on any of the memorials. With the withdrawal of the bill, the Faculty
and the Regents were left to handle the question as seemed best to them.
In the meantime, however, the opposition to the suppression of the
societies had become so widespread and aggressive that one by one the
fraternities were "conditionally" reinstated in October, 1850.
While the upshot of all this hostility was, superficially, only a return
to the _status quo_, the students had won their point. The germ of the
trouble probably lay in the difference between the paternalistic
attitude of the Faculty, traditional in all colleges of the time, and
the beginning of a new and progressive spirit in University life. The
students had been brought up in an atmosphere which developed
individuality and self-reliance and they resented a meticulous
regulation of their lives and doubtless contrasted it unfavorably with
what they knew of European Universities. The whole fraternity struggle
of 1848-50 may then be regarded, in part at least, as a successful
effort on the students' part to ensure a different and more liberal
policy toward student life and affairs on the part of the authorities.
Not the least of the troubles this contest brought to the University was
the revelation of its weakness, not only the plainly evident lack of
harmony within the Faculty, but also the practical demonstration it
furnished of the Faculty's lack of real power. The reasons for this go
back once more to the act establishing the University, which allowed the
Regents to delegate to the Faculties only such authority as they saw
fit, in practice not any too much, for the Regents maintained apparently
a close and personal supervision over the University. This was shown by
the habit of some members of the Board, notably Major Kearsley of
Detroit, of conducting final oral examinations at the end of the term.
Major Kearsley, a veteran of the War of 1812, was something of a
martinet and prided himself upon his learning; so he usually gave the
students a very hard time. He was soon dubbed "Major Tormentum" from
_majora tormenta_, the name given big guns, or cannon, in a Latin "Life
of Washington" then used in the classes. His visits finally ceased after
the students found out how to deal with him and came loaded with "grape
and canister," as one member of the class of '48 put it, to return his
heavy fire.
From its earliest days the University insisted upon maintaining a
non-sectarian character, but this did not imply any lack of religious
training or supervision,--quite the contrary, as has been suggested. The
scarcity of representatives of the cloth on the first Board of Regents
did not pass unremarked, and it was but a short time before several
clergymen, one a Catholic priest, became members of the governing body,
to offset the preponderance of lawyers and politicians and to furnish
the Board the benefits of their presumably wider experience in
educational matters. Every effort was made, however, to keep a proper
balance among the different persuasions, and all the Protestant churches
came to feel that they had almost a vested right to representation, as
the long list of "Reverends" in the first Faculty list shows. Professor
Williams was an Episcopalian; Dr. Whedon, a Methodist; Professor Agnew,
a Presbyterian; and Professor Ten Brook, a Baptist. Whenever a vacancy
occurred, the question of religious affiliations was at least as
important in the ultimate selection of the candidates, as any
qualifications in the subject to be taught. This situation naturally led
to a certain degree of rivalry, partisanship, and lack of co-operation
in the Faculty.
To this the lack of a Chancellor during those earlier years only added
further confusion. From the first the Regents had proposed the
appointment of such an officer, but in the absence of any clear notion
of their authority and his precise duties the matter was allowed to
lapse, until the financial difficulties of the early years after the
University opened made it clearly obvious that such an officer would be
something of a luxury. The matter was settled by making each professor
in turn President, or Principal, for one year, a practice which
continued until the appointment of President, or Chancellor, Tappan in
1852. This alternation in office was approved as eminently democratic
and as following the practice of the German Universities, the ideal of
the time. In a report submitted by the Board of Visitors in 1850, the
plan was commended and it was even urged that the monarchical feature of
a Chancellor should be struck out of the Organic Law, and the system
then in force thereby fixed for all time.
Nevertheless the plan was none too successful in application. There was
too much opportunity for jealousy and too little central authority. This
is shown plainly in the contest which arose over the hours of teaching
as the numbers in the University grew. The emphasis in the curriculum
upon the classics has been noted. This threw the burden of almost the
whole course of study upon Professor Agnew after the services of a
single tutor were dispensed with in 1846. Professors Whedon and Ten
Brook were therefore called upon to assist him, which they did
unwillingly, Professor Whedon finally refusing to hear further classes
in Greek.
The trouble grew and finally resulted in the resignation of Professor
Ten Brook in 1851, because of the opposition of three other members of
the Faculty. In after years he came to consider this action a mistake;
particularly as he had the respect and friendship of the Board of
Regents, who brought about the downfall of his opponents within six
months. This began in an action against Professor Whedon, who had for
some time aroused opposition by his pronounced anti-slavery views. As a
result of this feeling, on December 31, 1851, at the last session of the
Board of Regents by appointment before a new Board elected under the new
State Constitution was to take its place, a resolution was introduced
requesting the removal of the Rev. D.D. Whedon for the reason that he
had--
not only publicly preached, but otherwise openly advocated the
doctrine called "the higher law," a doctrine which is unauthorized
by the Bible, at war with the principles, precepts and examples of
Christ and his Apostles, subversive alike of civil government,
civil society, and the legal rights of individual citizens, and in
effect constitutes, in the opinion of this Board, a species of
moral treason against the Government.
This resolution seems to have expressed the real sentiment of the
Regents; but the actual measure passed was a resolution declaring, that
in view of the fact that a new Board of Regents was to take charge and
appoint a President, it was expedient that the terms of Professors
Williams, Whedon, and Agnew terminate at the close of the year. This was
an out and out partisan matter, as there was no reason for such action
inherent in the change of the governing body, particularly as it did not
affect two members of the Faculty who had avoided participation in this
family jar. The new Board chose, however, to act upon it and the three
resignations were accepted. Professor Williams was later reappointed, as
he had apparently taken a minor part in the opposition to Professor Ten
Brook. This whole episode was most unfortunate and was brought about by
the lack of a strong guiding administrative policy. Professor Ten Brook
in his later review generously says of these men: "A stronger body of
men of the same number was probably never associated in such an opening
enterprise," and again, "We should find that their merits would be
magnified and their mistakes diminished by a consideration of the
complicated, and till then unknown difficulties with which they had to
contend."
With a Chancellor to guide and direct the Faculty and to exert, on
occasion, a restraining hand, a large part of these troubles might have
been avoided. The Regents had early discovered their dependence upon the
whims of the Legislature, particularly in financial matters, while the
Superintendent of Public Instruction was given too much authority. In
fact, a Committee of the Legislature appointed as early as 1840 stated
in its report: "A Board of experienced Regents could manage the funds
and machinery of the University better than any Legislature; and the
Faculty could manage the business of education--the interior of a
College--better than any Regents."
This was becoming recognized; the University's difficulties only
emphasized what had become a general opinion. Accordingly the sections
of the new Constitution of 1850 relating to the University were
thoroughly discussed in the Convention; with the result that certain new
provisions were incorporated which gave the University of Michigan a
unique standing among state universities. Particularly important were
the measures relating to the Board of Regents. In the first place, it
was provided that they should be elected by the people, one for each
judicial district, and at the same time the judges of each circuit were
elected. Ten years later the latter provision was changed so that the
number of Regents was definitely fixed at eight; two to be elected every
two years at the regular election of the justices of the Supreme Court.
In the second place, it was provided that while the Regents should have
only general supervision of the University, they should have the
direction and control of all expenditures from the University interest
fund. These provisions were far-reaching. They made the Board of Regents
a constituent part of the State Government, on an equality as regards
powers with the Governor, the Legislature, and the Supreme Court.
From the time this action went into effect we may date the larger growth
of the University. The selection of the Regents is as far removed from
political influence as it is possible to make it under our electoral
system, and they are given absolute control of the income of the
University and the appropriations of the Legislature, once they are
made; provided of course they are used for the purposes designated.
A further provision of the Constitution specified the immediate
appointment of a President. The old plan was not considered suitable for
an American college. This sentiment was so strong that the Convention
was unwilling to leave this matter to the discretion of the Regents and
therefore they made action imperative. All that was necessary now was
the adaptation of the organic Act of the University to the new
Constitution. This was accomplished on April 8, 1851, when a new Act was
adopted, in essentials far simpler and more general in its terms than
the old one, which left the University free to enter upon the remarkable
growth and expansion which began with the administration of President
Tappan.