STUDENT LIFE
Although the life of the student in the earliest days of the University
had a bucolic simplicity almost unimaginable to the undergraduate of
these days, it was not without its sterner side. The Rev. Theodoric R.
Palmer of the class of '47, who entered the University in 1843, thus
emphasizes the contrast between those times and the present:
But twenty-five years had elapsed since the first steamship crossed
the Atlantic and the first ten miles of passenger railway in the
United States had been laid but fifteen years. The telegraph was a
recent invention ... electricity was a plaything, and electrical
engineering unknown.
Nothing will point this contrast better, perhaps, than the mere fact
that the Michigan Central, which had only reached Ann Arbor a year or so
before, was running one train a day between Detroit and _Dexter_. Most
of the students we may assume, therefore, rode into town on horseback,
as he did, with their gear behind them, or perhaps took advantage of the
several stage lines which centered in Ann Arbor.
They found a little town charmingly situated in forests and farm
clearings, lying for the most part in the valley of the Huron, though
gradually reaching out toward the University, from which a few houses
could be seen along the western side of the country road which now is
State Street. The Campus, which for years "looked like a small farm,"
was surrounded by a fence with a turn-stile on the northwest corner.
This was often broken and was finally replaced by a series of steps,
over which the students passed to their boarding houses in town after
their morning recitations and their afternoons of study. In time this
stile gave way to posts with room enough between for a man, "but not for
a cow." Early hours were imperative, for kerosene or "coal-oil" was
practically unknown in the forties, and candles and whale oil were the
sole source of illumination, while the wood yard, always mentioned with
deep feeling by every alumnus of that period, was the source of heat.
Time went according to a bell mounted on a post at the rear, which
seemed to have been a prolific source of student humor. It was turned
upside down in winter and filled with water, with a corresponding
vacation the following morning; the clapper was stolen; and finally in
Dr. Tappan's day it was even carried away, post and all. The President,
however, was a match for the jokers and simply announced that as the
bell was a convenience which the students did not seem to need, classes
would be held henceforth without the usual call. As the regulations were
very strict as to attendance and four unexcused absences a matter for
the higher powers, it was not long before a student rose in Chapel and
requested permission to reinstate the Campus time-piece,--which was
graciously granted.
There are stories innumerable of donkeys and geese appearing in unusual
places and of the Chapel on one occasion being filled with hay, while
once a whole load of wood, wagon and all, was laboriously set up on the
roof of the college hall. On another occasion a number of students,
waiting for their recitation period, corralled a herd of cows grazing on
the Campus, and so thoroughly frightened one calf that he rushed into
the open door of the building as the safest refuge. Some one shut the
door instantly, and when Professor Winchell's class-room door was
opened, in rushed the badly demoralized animal. The effect may be
imagined. Professor Winchell always thought it a "proposed and
deliberate insult," but, as the historian of the incident in the
"Class-Book" of '61 observes: "Any one will at once perceive that no one
was to blame but the calf, who lost his presence of mind." All this
humor, however, was rather elementary; for the most part life was
sufficiently sedate, and the pranks ordinarily far from atrocious.
In the earliest days the term fees of $7.50 covered the cost of rooms in
the dormitories, while the cost of board ranged from $1.50 to $2.00 a
week. H.B. Nichols, a student in 1850, gave his father the following,--
account of monies, by me expended. In it I put an estimate of the
term tax at $6.00. It is $6.62-1/2 and divided as follows, viz:
Room rent, $1.50. Janitor's fees, $1.50. Wood bill $2.87-1/2 and
Hall tax for damages to the Buildings, viz. Brokens doors and
windows, $.75, making in all the sum of $6.62-1/2. Last term $4.60.
So you see it is all a humbug for the catalogue to say the charges
will range from $5.00 to $7.50 per year, as it will not be less
than $15.00 to each student, or $30.00 to each room and if a
student rooms alone his charges will be $21.00 per year!
As for his boarding place:
I changed or rather left Mrs. Andrews and went ... to Professor Ten
Brook's. I like it so well at the Prof's that I have remained there
since. Lest you should be unwilling, or perhaps fearful for my
health, I would say that the Prof. has kindly offered me his horse
to use every morning or as much as I please. A ride on horseback is
exceeding good exercise. Especially when a horse is as hard to
ride as the Prof's is wont to be. Do you recollect a sorrel steed
you sold to Mr. Dan Stowell? Prof's horse's movements are just
about as _convenient_ as that one's were. My objection to boarding
at a public boarding house, is, that no regard is paid to the rules
of politeness and _good_ manners. Every one for himself, is the
motto. Not so in a private family. Mrs. Ten Brook is a very
accomplished lady and the Prof. is not much behind her in that
respect. They set a _good_ table, not a very _rich_ one, but rather
a plain one. In the morning, Buckwheat pancakes and maple molasses,
besides potatoes and sausage. At noon, 'steak,' sometimes fish. The
professor charges 12 shillings for board. I like _him_ of all the
Prof's, the best.
What would a student nowadays think of a menu like that for $1.50 a
week?
The first boarding club was established in 1860 in the house, not far
from the ancient "Cat-Hole," of one Mrs. O'Toole, "a pretty good
all-round cook, whose forte was apple dumplings" served daily. The
steward was Charles Kendall Adams, '61, while other members were Walter
W. Perry and Byron M. Cutcheon of the class of 1861 and Martin L. D'Ooge
of the class of 1862.
Recreation was not a part of the earlier curriculum and athletics were
unknown under that name, though feats of strength, jumping, lifting
dumb-bells, the heavier the better, and foot-races, were common. Perhaps
that woodyard and the favorite games of one-old-cat and wicket, a
modification of cricket, were sufficient substitutes, occasionally
varied by a fishing trip on the Huron or a walk to Ypsilanti, whenever
the necessary permission from the authorities to leave Ann Arbor was
forthcoming. Social opportunities came largely through the relations of
the students with the townspeople and their lovely daughters,
particularly at the popular church socials. Many of the brightest and
most beautiful local belles came from "lower town," or north Ann Arbor,
a most important section at that time,--some even lived nearly a mile
beyond the old long bridge at the foot of Broadway hill. To them the new
students were invariably introduced; the wise ones surrendering all
rights, so that when the social was over, it was only natural for the
new men to ask for the privilege of escorting them home; something of an
ordeal on a winter night. The old wooden viaduct over the tracks was
known in those days as the "Bridge of Sighs."
Of conviviality there was comparatively little in the earliest days,
though occasionally some students succumbed to the beer and wine of the
German townspeople. A certain drinking bout in 1858, however, had most
serious consequences; one student died as the result, and this, with the
resultant expulsions, seems to have had a very restraining influence for
some years. Societies or other groups often went down to a Mrs. Slack's
restaurant, where they were served by a pretty waitress named
"Rika"--whose only claim to fame lies in the reminiscence of those
undergraduates of '49 who were her patrons. But for the most part the
life of the University was lived in a sane and wholesome atmosphere. The
students were almost all from farm homes; they were used to the simple
life and were in earnest in their efforts for an education. They were
watched with a paternal eye by the Faculty and duly admonished at the
two daily chapel exercises, long a part of University life. Their hours
were carefully provided for; their courses were compulsory; and their
attendance at classes insured by numbers on the class-room benches which
had to be duly covered. For this, the shawls that the students wore in
the late fifties seem to have been popular--several students, plus
shawls, were able to conceal many gaps if the monitor were not too
observant.
Throughout the earlier years there was a great emphasis on public
speaking, for which ample opportunity was given in various "class
exhibitions." These were inaugurated by the sophomores in 1843 with a
programme of four orations, four dissertations, four essays, and one
poem. The same class continued the precedent the next year, followed by
succeeding junior classes, so that these exhibitions became an
institution, long supported not alone by the students but by Faculty and
interested citizens as well. The end did not come until 1871 when the
last junior exhibition was held. The first class-day was held by '62 in
the spring of their junior year, but it was celebrated informally and
not taken very seriously until 1865 when the first real exercises took
place in May at the beginning of the "Senior Vacation." The place was
the old Presbyterian church, which seems to have been the favorite
auditorium. The "presentation" of the class was made in Greek by
Professor Boise, while President Haven replied in Latin. In one at least
of these first class-day programmes the oration and poem only were
public, while the history and prophecy were submitted to the class at a
convivial session at the popular Hangsterfer's.
The place which these early platform efforts took in the life of those
days is shown by two incidents. The first is related by Gen. W.H.H.
Beadle, '61, later President of the University of South Dakota, who
tells how an address by "one student" in 1858, denouncing the iniquity
of the Mexican War as begun and waged for the extension of slavery,
called him to the attention of the abolitionists, one of whom asked him
if he would care to take a "long ride on a good horse." He would of
course, and did, carrying a message to a Quaker farmer in Lenawee
County, whose home was a station of the underground railway. Andrew D.
White also describes with reminiscent pleasure how he groomed one of his
students to defeat a local politician, known as "Old Statistics," who
was characterized by his senatorial aspirations and his carefully
appropriate garb, tall hat, blue swallow-tail and buff waistcoat with
brass buttons. The wrath of this worthy, as a disciple of Henry Clay,
had been aroused by the teachings of Professor White, who at that time
was opposed to a protective tariff, and a public debate was to clinch
the discussion. The result was a complete victory for the young David,
who had the audience with him from the first, to the immense chagrin of
his pompous opponent.
The annual Commencement exercises were usually held in one of the local
churches and sometimes, after 1856, in the hall of the Union School
building, though nowhere was there an auditorium large enough to hold
all who wished to attend,--a situation not changed, in fact, until the
erection of Hill Auditorium in 1913. Upon one occasion women were
admitted an hour earlier than men, a bit of partiality which drew a
protest against such injustice and a reference to the perfectly good
space wasted through the necessities of the prevailing crinolines. One
class, at least, that of '46, held its exercises in a great revival
tent, especially imported from Chicago and set up after a week's
strenuous exertion on the part of the students. The programme consisted
of short orations by the graduates, who were democratically placed on
the programme with no reference to standings. The increasing size of the
classes led eventually to a Faculty selection of certain speakers to
represent the students. In 1878 class participation was abolished and
the practice of inviting distinguished men to give the Commencement
address was inaugurated. The old practice of giving the seniors a
vacation period in which to prepare their speeches also came to an end
with this change.
The traditional rivalry between classes in the University existed from
the first and many were the lessons taught the upstanding freshmen, with
natural retaliations on the sophomores. To this was added a natural
inter-departmental rivalry which came with the establishment of the
professional schools. The "medics" and the "laws," however, soon grew
strong enough to take care of themselves and were in fact for many years
largely in the majority. And with this growth of class and departmental
spirit, which increasing numbers brought, the rushing and hazing
episodes in the seventies and eighties became more serious--not so much
because of their dangerous character in themselves, as for the
opportunity they gave to unfriendly critics of the institution. The
usual student, however, yields to no one in his love for his alma mater
and time and again it has only been necessary to point out the real
danger to the University arising from such practices to bring about
their abandonment,--until the next crop of hazers has to go through the
same process of education.
This inter-departmental rivalry, which was most intense about 1900,
naturally led to many escapades. One picturesque incident resulted when
1900 ran a flag bearing the class numerals to the top of the University
flag-pole, and left it to sweep the skies with the halyards cut. A
Western sharpshooter was enlisted from the ranks of the Law Department
and the offending emblem was brought down on the second shot, to the
great satisfaction of the "laws." Less excusable was the method the
class of 1902 took to immortalize its victory over the "laws" by
painting the class numerals prominently on the soft sand-stone of the
Law Building, of which traces remain to this day for those who know
where to look. The guilty class was made to feel mightily ashamed of
itself for a while, but in after years it has proudly borne the title of
"Human Skunks" conferred upon it at the time.
Mass action has always been a favorite method of student expression. Of
this the organized "bolting" of the years just after the war is an
example. This went on to such a degree that it became necessary for the
Faculty to pass a resolution stating that "in the absence of an
instructor, his class shall be expected to remain until at least five
minutes after the ringing of the bell." Apparently this did not stop the
practice, and suspension or dismissal were threatened in 1867. This rule
was drastically applied in 1871 when a large number of freshmen and
sophomores, who had found Van Amburgh's circus more attractive than
their classes, were actually suspended. It is not difficult to trace in
this affair the origin of the song popular to this day, though its
application has been long forgotten:
We are going to the Hamburg show
To see the elephant and the wild kangaroo;--
And we'll all stick together, through rain or stormy weather,
For we're going to see the whole show through.
This ended that epidemic and bolting henceforth became individual and
not collective.
The burning of "mechanics" was also a popular rite, which in its earlier
days celebrated the completion of the course in physics under Professor
Williams. This time-honored ceremony took the form of a procession of
solemn officials which escorted the "corpus," borne on an elaborate
bier, to a place of judgment, where it was condemned most impressively
and executed with elaborate rites. The "corpus" was well guarded,--on
one occasion at least by eight juniors armed with bayonets,--from the
sophomores, who were infuriated by the fact that the head of the
intended victim, a skull furnished from medical sources, was crowned by
a mortar-board, the sophomore class insignia. A formal trial followed,
presided over by a Pontifex Maximus, in which a Judex, an Advocatus Pro,
and an Advocatus Con participated, with the foregone result that the
culprit was sentenced to be hanged, shot, and burned; a decree carried
out on a gallows and bonfire previously prepared in spite of the
sophomores' best efforts.
This annual fracas assumed a particularly lurid character in 1860 and
the printed program was especially objectionable, a fault quite
characteristic of those days. The night had been a wild one and when it
became known that Dr. Tappan was to discuss the matter the next morning
in Chapel, there were many misgivings. To every one's surprise, however,
"there was no touch of reprimand in voice or word. In a sympathetic and
familiar way, he began to talk about college songs." He told how he had
once been greeted, upon opening his mail in Sweden, by a copy of the
song "Where, Oh Where, is Doctor Tappan?" an evidence of student
interest in his whereabouts which had cheered and inspired him mightily.
Then, as merely incidental, and by way of contrast, he referred in mild
tones to the obnoxious print of the night before,--"no moralizing but a
salutary and effective talk, which was greeted by hearty cheers."
Thus far we have been considering the student life of a University
which, judged by modern standards, was small and comparatively
homogeneous. The student of those days knew every one in college. The
professors were able to take a personal interest in all their pupils;
even the President made it a point to know every one by name. All this
has been changed within the last twenty-five years. Where in 1885 the
student enrolment was only about 1,300, it increased to 2,200 in 1890
and to 2,800 in 1895, and this rate of growth has continued almost
unbroken up to the present time. The result is that now there are nearly
9,000 students on the Campus during the college year, and with the
extraordinary increase which has followed the late war, there is every
prospect of this growth continuing.
In itself this is good evidence of the University's success as a center
of education; but these increasing throngs of students bring many
difficult problems, not the least of which is the necessity of finding
an adequate supply of teachers, class rooms, and laboratories. Equally,
life in the University becomes more complicated. The ideal simplicity of
academic life, the intimate contact between fellow-students and between
students and Faculties, is all too easily lost in the leveling
tendencies which numbers make inevitable. This is the great danger of
the large University--but a peril that has been recognized and has been
met with at least some degree of success.
The student organizations, fraternities, and clubs, which have
multiplied to so remarkable a degree, are perhaps the first and most
important student reaction. Many if not most of these organizations have
some connection with individual Faculty members, either through alumni
on the Faculty or through honorary members, and this forms a basis at
least for some extra class-room relationship. Sometimes, on occasion, a
certain restraint on the part of the Faculty becomes inevitable, and the
establishment of a Committee on Student Affairs, originally a committee
on "non-athletic" relations, created some fifteen years ago, has
resulted. This committee has accomplished much towards directing student
activities into proper and worthwhile channels, though the ghost of the
classic charge of unwelcome paternalism arises occasionally. The only
answer necessary is the evident improvement in the general standards of
all student organizations and the mere fact that they have, for the most
part, continued to exist through several student generations; no little
accomplishment in itself, when one remembers the almost automatic rise
and fall of these societies in the early days.
If the University and particularly the Faculty has been concerned with
these problems, incident upon the University's growth, so have the
students themselves. They have seen the necessity for constructive
effort and have established such agencies as the Student Council and the
Inter-fraternity Council among the men, and the corresponding Judiciary
Council and Pan-Hellenic Association among the women. Above all, the
University has profited by the two great organizations which have been
the most effective expression of student life and ideals,--the Michigan
Union and the Women's League.
While the fundamental control of the student body rests, as it always
has, with the Faculty, the students have almost always shown themselves
ready and able to deal with questions of a certain type more promptly
and effectively than the Faculty. This is evident by the good record of
the Student Council since its organization in 1905. The members of this
body are elected during the last half of their Junior or the beginning
of their Senior year, and are usually the strongest men in their
classes, though not necessarily the most popular or the best students.
Most of the Council's work has had to do with student customs, the
regulation of old, and the establishment of new, "traditions," a
paradoxical procedure perhaps, but a source of much that is picturesque.
Of these traditions, none has been more acceptable than the custom of
requiring freshmen to wear the little gray caps, or knitted toques in
the winter, with a button at the top, signifying by its color the
College or School of the wearer. No more inspiring or beautiful ceremony
occurs in university life than the annual "cap-night" celebration when
the student body meets in "Sleepy Hollow" near the Observatory, about a
great bonfire, to watch the burning of the caps, and the formal
initiation of the freshmen into the responsibilities of college life.
The dance of the freshmen about the fire and the showers of caps falling
into the flames (they have been sent to the Belgians the last few
years), combined with the vigor and idealism of the speeches which
follow, all conspire to produce one of the most stirring and impressive
events of the year.
Of more fundamental importance has been the Council's regulation of the
irrepressible freshmen-sophomore rivalry, which long took the course of
medieval hair-cutting forays, sometimes, as in 1904, carried on even
within the sacred precincts of the Library. The reform came through the
establishment in 1908 of a series of inter-class contests. Particularly
picturesque are those held in May, which include a tug-of-war across the
Huron River, a series of obstacle relay races, and a massed battle about
a six-foot push ball on Ferry Field as the finale. While not entirely
innocuous, these games form an apparently necessary and acceptable
safety valve for the exuberances of class spirit. The upper-classman is
most sensitive to the good name of the University; to him the dangers of
undue newspaper notoriety are quite apparent, and thus through the
Council the students themselves have been able on the whole to control
successfully what is always a difficult and delicate question for
university officers. Hardly less important among the Council's functions
is the management of various undergraduate occasions, mass-meetings,
campus elections, and inter-class athletics, demonstrations where
trouble might brew without the guidance of wiser heads. More than once
when a mass of under-classmen has seemed on the verge of a dangerous
explosion, the members of the Council have intervened quietly and
effectively. Ordinarily, this modesty has been characteristic of the
Council's work. A similar regulation of the affairs of the women is
exercised by a Judiciary Council organized at the suggestion of the
University Senate in 1913.
Of all student organizations, however, the Michigan Union has
accomplished the most toward promoting the best interests of the student
body since its establishment as a general organization in 1904. To those
who are only familiar with the Union of later years, the name will
almost inevitably suggest the building rather than the organization. The
new club house, practically completed in the first months of 1920, is
naturally the obvious embodiment of the Union which strikes the observer
upon first acquaintance. It cannot be emphasized too strongly, however,
that the building is, after all, but the home of an organization. This
is the essential fact which has never been forgotten by the officers of
the Union. Their efforts from the first have been to make it, both as an
organization and as a building, of practical service for Michigan's
immense student body, which without the resources of a large city, needs
peculiarly such headquarters for all its wide and varied interests.
Perhaps the most concise definition of the Union is contained in the
preamble of its present Constitution:
To establish a University social and recreational center; to
provide a meeting place for Faculty, alumni, former students and
resident students of the University; and to help in fitting
Michigan men for the performance of their duties as good citizens.
It is the Union as a _body of students_, using the building as a means
to promote the best things in college life, to bring about a closer
co-ordination of all university activities, and a more sympathetic
co-operation between the undergraduates, Faculty, and alumni, that must
justify the money and energy spent in this great departure in American
college life,--for there is nothing in any American university today
that approaches the Union in size or the scale upon which its activities
are planned.
[Illustration: THE MICHIGAN UNION]
The need of such a building had long been felt by the students before
the first discussion on the part of the members of the senior society,
Michigamua, led to a call which brought representatives of all the
leading organizations in the University together in the spring of 1904.
The idea proved popular at once, though it was again the organization,
and not the somewhat remote prospect of a building, that won support.
From the first the Union aimed to be an expression of student life as a
whole and almost immediately, side by side with an active campaign for a
building, it undertook to correlate and to unify the interests of the
students in the different departments, classes, and organizations. The
alumni, too, were knit into a body which aimed consistently to recognize
the claim of the University to the regard and loyal support of every
Michigan man. The Student Council was established at the inspiration of
the Union soon after its organization. Some years later a similar
movement inspired by the Union resulted in the establishment of the
University Health Service through a series of recommendations made by a
committee of Union members to the Board of Regents. Mass meetings and
smokers were held and a great annual dinner was initiated the first
year, at which the ideals of the University and the aims of the Union
were discussed. Funds were raised for the portrait of President Angell
by William M. Chase. Musical shows and carnivals were held, not merely
to raise money for the Union, but to bring the student body together in
one absorbing interest. In December, 1906, Judge Cooley's old home on
State Street was purchased, to be used temporarily as the Union Club
House and eventually to be replaced by the present building. The house
was altered extensively,--two dining-rooms were installed, together with
other features of a club, and for nine years it served the University
well, though its facilities became increasingly inadequate as the mass
of students grew.
Not for one minute, however, was the need for a greater building
forgotten, and through mass meetings, alumni dinners, and University
publications, the alumni were educated as to the aims and ideals of the
organization and the vital need of a building which should adequately
serve as the center of the life of the thousands of men in the
University. All this was not accomplished without opposition, which
centered largely in the rival claims of the committee charged with the
raising of funds for Alumni Memorial Hall. Fortunately this
misunderstanding faded away when the Memorial Building was completed in
1909 and the purpose of the Union became better understood.
This long effort among the alumni eventually began to have its effect
and for several years before the actual campaign for funds for the Union
was launched, alumni everywhere were asking: "When are you going to ask
us to contribute toward the new Union? I want to do something." Yet the
actual result of the campaign, when it was finally launched in 1915, was
in many ways a great surprise. Within a little over a year some $800,000
was subscribed and work on the new building was begun. The most
remarkable aspect of this response was the fact that no large
subscriptions were made,--$10,000 was the largest. In fact the majority
of the subscriptions came in the form of $50 life memberships which not
only made the graduates of the University participants in an institution
concerned with the fundamentals of University life, linking students,
teachers, and alumni in a common cause, but gave the graduates a home in
Ann Arbor to which they could return as of right, asking no favors. It
is doubtful if any large undertaking in any university has ever been
more widely supported by general alumni subscriptions.
The declaration of war in 1917, and the almost immediate increase in
building costs, made more difficult the completion of the building,
though a supplementary campaign in 1919 increased the funds to over the
million dollars originally asked for. Even this proved inadequate and
when the Union was finally opened in the fall of 1919, there was still
some $200,000 to be raised, secured by a mortgage on the building.
This, in effect, represented the increase in the cost of building during
the war. The completion of the Union was felt to be a vital matter and
while the wide-spread interest of the alumni in the building made it
practically certain that the necessary funds would be forthcoming within
a few years; to delay until the full amount was in hand would have been
disastrous. During the abnormal years of 1918-19, $60,000 alone was
added to the building fund through student life memberships, while the
following fall over $110,000 more was pledged this way, a practical
evidence of undergraduate interest and support.
The Union is peculiarly a Michigan product. It stands not only on the
site of Judge Cooley's old home but also on that of the boyhood home of
the architects, Irving K. Pond, '79, President of the American Institute
of Architects in 1910 and 1911, and his brother Allen B. Pond, '80.
Strong and masculine in all its lines, the building throughout is a
consistent interpretation of the artistic faith of the architects, who
have been bold enough to break with overworn conventions in the design
and have made it peculiarly an expression, in its whole conception as
well as in its finest details, of a distinctly American spirit. A
suggestion of the English collegiate Gothic style in its larger forms
was deliberately chosen as typifying the fundamental source of our
institutions; but in the general treatment, particularly in the simple,
modern, truly American masses and details, which are everywhere full of
a refined and delicate symbolism, the building is an interpretation of
the underlying spirit of American Democracy. That the architects have
been successful no one can deny who has seen the Union and has felt the
rugged beauty of its central tower, which became at once the striking
feature of Ann Arbor's skyline.
The building is necessarily large; it is 168 feet in all across the
front and 233 feet deep, with four stories, a basement, and
sub-basement. In addition to other usual facilities of a large club, it
contains a swimming pool (not completed in 1920), a bowling alley, an
immensely popular cafeteria for men, known as the Tap-Room, a woman's
dining-room with a separate entrance, a billiard room, with twenty-five
tables, a large banquet and assembly hall, 58 by 104 feet, for dinners,
dances, and large gatherings, besides innumerable smaller rooms which
can be used either for dinners or for class and society meetings. There
are in fact dining-room accommodations for over 1,200 guests at one
time. Offices and various headquarters for campus organizations are also
included as well as one feature particularly welcome to alumni, some 48
sleeping rooms accommodating 69 visitors.
Thus the Union has realized its ideals. While the success of the Union
is due to the continued and self-sacrificing efforts of hundreds of
Michigan men, students and alumni alike, special recognition will always
be due Dean Henry M. Bates, '90, of the Law School, whose strong support
and practical idealism as a member of the Board of Directors from the
very earliest days carried the project through many dark periods, as
well as to the energy and enthusiasm of Homer Heath, '07, manager of the
Union Building from the first, to whom is due in no small degree the
successful outcome of the campaign for the building, and its final
completion.
The control of the Union is vested in two organizations; a Board of
Directors composed of students, Faculty representatives, and alumni,
which has in general the supervision of the activities of the Union as
an organization, and a Board of Governors, created upon completion of
the building, composed of the student President of the Union, one member
of the Board of Regents, the Financial Secretary appointed by the
President of the University and four members appointed by the Board of
Directors of the Alumni Association, to have financial control of the
building and organization as a corporation.
With the opening of the University in 1919, when the enrolment exceeded
by 1,500 the previous record attendance in 1916, the Union entered upon
a new and more effective period of service, not entirely equipped and
ready, it is true, but sufficiently prepared to justify at once the
vision of those responsible for the result. Even without any endowment
it demonstrated from the first that it could be maintained as an
essentially self-supporting concern.[3]
[Footnote 3: A careful estimate, made in October, 1920, showed that an
average of 7,500 persons daily passed the doors of the Union. Some 2,200
persons were also served daily in the Tap-Room or cafeteria, in addition
to the regular dining-room service.]
As the Union served the life of the men in the University, other
agencies have come to do the same for the women. Long before the Union
was even thought of, the Women's League maintained headquarters in the
parlors of Barbour Gymnasium, which, with Sarah Caswell Angell Hall and
the adjoining gymnasium, served the women well. These, with the three
recently constructed halls of residence, including the Martha Cook
Building, perhaps the most beautiful and luxurious dormitory ever built
in an American university, will go far towards answering the social
needs of the women. They have at least made the general scale of living
conditions far more favorable for the girls of the University than for
the men, who for many years have been sadly in need of the facilities
offered by such a building as the Union. Fortunately there is every
prospect that some dormitories for men will be forthcoming in the near
future.
The religious life of the students has never been neglected, though the
careful non-sectarianism of the University led it at first to be
regarded with suspicion by the various religious bodies of the State,
and their opposition, sometimes veiled, and sometimes open, proved
embarrassing. It has been shown how this sentiment was met by a
prevailing clerical complexion in the Faculty and an emphasis on daily
chapel exercises which were maintained long after the practice of
considering religious affiliations as one of the prime professorial
requisites was abandoned. This emphasis on the proper observance of the
Sabbath is rather amusingly illustrated in the regular practice in those
days of having the Monday Greek lesson consist of a chapter of the Greek
Testament; it being no sin to study the scriptures on Sunday. From which
we might gather that in some essentials, such as Sunday study, the
student of 1850 was true grandfather of the undergraduate of today.
Every effort was made to make college regulations a substitute for home
influences, and the members of that first Faculty were all remembered
for their kindly and paternal relations with the students. It was
largely because of the personal qualities and wisdom of these men that
the institution was able to steer successfully between the dangers of
religious indifference and sectarianism.
[Illustration: THE DOORWAY OF THE MARTHA COOK BUILDING]
The changes from those stricter days have come gradually and as a
reflection of the spirit of the age; the scientific and not the
ecclesiastical spirit rules, with the result that the student is left
more to his own devices in ordering his life. The discipline of the old
days would not be tolerated now and any tendency towards firmer
regulation of undergraduate life is often resented. The break came
first, perhaps, in a new spirit of independence which followed the
fraternity crisis in 1850. This was emphasized by the fact that the
students in the professional schools were excused from compulsory church
and chapel attendance, a discrimination which did not fail to react upon
the literary undergraduates. The rule still held, however, until 1871;
though the Sunday monitor who checked church attendance had long
disappeared. Daily prayers were maintained until 1895 when they were
succeeded by semi-weekly vesper services, which, in turn, were
eventually discontinued. Current opinion upon this gradual change is
possibly reflected in the statement made in 1900 by President Angell:
Where, as at the University of Michigan, the average age of the
freshman on entering college is 19.5, it is at least open to
discussion whether the spiritual welfare of undergraduates will be
promoted by their being driven to religious services under fear of
the monitor's mark.
A religious census made in 1894 showed that of approximately 3,000
students, 2,500 were church members or church adherents, and that 301
students had become clergymen or missionaries. A similar census of the
men in 1919 showed that of a total of 5,804, 3,501 were church members,
while 943 others expressed some church preference. This included all
forms of belief. These statistics seem to indicate that there has been
very little change in this respect in the last twenty-five years, though
some decrease in church attendance would not be surprising in view of
the great increase in students and the less homogeneous character of the
student body. No one familiar with the student life today, however, will
question the vitality and effectiveness of the religious influences
which reach the students through the various churches and religious
organizations of Ann Arbor, particularly in view of extensive plans now
under way for further co-operation on the part of the churches.
The passing of the old Chapel in the religious life of the University
was marked by the growing strength of religious bodies among the
students. The strong religious spirit of the early Faculty was reflected
by their encouragement of an organization known as the Union Missionary
Society of Inquiry, which followed the great missionary movement of the
first part of the century, and served as a rallying point for
undergraduate religious life. This organization, however, according to
Professor Hinsdale, was "anything but an unmixed blessing, either to the
institution or to the students," though in what particular is not
disclosed. There also existed from earliest days, a Sunday morning
service which the students conducted in the Chapel. The old Missionary
Society came to an end in 1857, to be followed by the Students'
Christian Association, which soon became one of the most effective
factors in university religious life. It was the first association of
this character organized in any American college, and through what may
be regarded as a fortunate accident in its name the opportunity for
membership was left open to women students upon their admission twelve
years later. This brought to it a powerful reinforcement.
The Association professed no creed, the members merely pledging
themselves to religious character and work. The meetings were held at
first on the fourth floor of the old South College, but this proved
inadequate and with the coming of President Haven, the Association was
established in a room especially fitted up for it on the first floor.
Eventually these quarters in turn became too small, for, at the time of
the semi-centennial celebration of 1887, when the need for a new home
for the Association was discussed, the membership of 300 was far too
large for this room. A movement for a new building arose, therefore,
which led to a successful appeal to the alumni; though it was not until
June, 1891, that the Students' Christian Association Building which
stands on State Street almost directly across from University Hall was
formally dedicated. The total cost was about $40,000 and of this amount
Mrs. Helen H. Newberry of Detroit gave about $18,000; the building being
known as Newberry Hall in honor of her husband, John S. Newberry, of the
class of '47.
From this time the work of the Students' Christian Association, now
carried on under far more favorable circumstances, expanded rapidly. A
further extension of the religious life of the University came in 1895,
when a University Y.M.C.A. was established by some members of the
Students' Christian Association who had become dissatisfied with the
older organization and desired, moreover, to become associated with the
strong international Y.M.C.A. body. This new organization found a home
eventually in McMillan Hall on the corner of State and Huron streets,
where it grew in influence with the student body until the time seemed
to many propitious for a reorganization of religious work among the
students. This was effected in 1904 through the incorporation of the old
Students' Christian Association into the Y.M.C.A. and Y.W.C.A. with
separate headquarters in McMillan and Newberry Halls respectively,
although the old title, Students' Christian Association, was nominally
retained.
McMillan Hall was eventually taken over by the Tappan Presbyterian
Association, the owners of the building, and the resulting need for new
quarters for the men led, in 1915, to the successful solicitation of
funds for a new Y.M.C.A. building. Two years later, on March 2, 1917,
the new building, known as Lane Hall in honor of Judge V.H. Lane of the
Law School, who has been President of the Association for many years,
was formally opened. It stands on the corner of State and Washington
streets, and represents an outlay of approximately $125,000, of which
amount $60,000 was contributed by the Rockefeller Foundation under the
provision that a like amount be raised within a certain period. It was
designed by William A. Otis, 78_e_, of Chicago. Dignified and simple in
its general architectural lines, it is a distinct addition to the public
buildings of Ann Arbor, and in many respects represents a new style of
building for a Y.M.C.A. This results from the fact that it is designed
primarily to serve only the religious interests of the students, and
does not aim to assume the broader social functions of the Union or the
physical training supplied in Waterman Gymnasium. Grouped around the
large hall or lobby in which the work is centered, are rooms for the
officers of the Association and offices for the pastors of the Ann Arbor
churches. A large library and adjoining study is also situated on the
first floor. A small but most attractive auditorium, seating some 450
persons, occupies the second floor, with a dining-room and four class
rooms at either end. The basement contains a social or club room and
additional class rooms.
[Illustration: LANE HALL
The University Y.M.C.A. Building]
[Illustration: NEWBERRY HALL
The University Y.W.C.A. Building]
[Illustration: NEWBERRY RESIDENCE FOR WOMEN]
[Illustration: BARBOUR GYMNASIUM FOR WOMEN]
A final modification of the religious activities in the University in
1919 resulted in an approximate return to the plan of organization of
the old S.C.A., under which the Association became a clearing house for
all the churches within the University community. Under this plan all
students who are church members become _de facto_ members of the
Association, and, as far as their church affiliations permit, of the
Y.M.C.A. and the Y.W.C.A.; while the two buildings, Lane Hall and
Newberry Hall, are considered exchange centers for all the churches and
religious organizations, including the Jewish Student Congregation.
No single factor in the life of the University has been more effective
than the close relationship of the Faculty and students with the town,
an entente which has been carefully fostered by the Ann Arbor churches.
A large proportion of the Faculty have always been church members, and
this has led to very active efforts to reach the students through the
employment of student pastors, and the establishment of several church
guild houses, which include Harris Hall, Protestant Episcopal; McMillan
and Sackett Halls, Presbyterian; and Tucker Memorial, Baptist; all on
Huron Street, while across from University Hall is the Catholic Chapel
which was remodeled from the old home of Professor Morris. There is also
every prospect that a number of new church buildings of this character
will be erected in the immediate neighborhood of the Campus within a few
years.
Michigan students have many songs which celebrate not only the delights
and care-free charm of college life but also their regard for their
University. Some of them are among the most inspiring and beautiful of
all the great body of melodies which our American colleges have
inspired. They have become an essential of undergraduate life and bear
most effective witness to the sentiment of love and loyalty which,
though often hidden, binds the student to his alma mater.
Always first among Michigan songs is "The Yellow and the Blue," written
by Charles M. Gayley, '78, now of the University of California, when an
Assistant Professor of English in the University. It first appeared in a
pamphlet entitled "Songs of the Yellow and the Blue," published in 1889.
This collection included a number of songs which have always been
favorites, by Professor Gayley and Professor Fred N. Scott, '84, for
which the music, in many cases, was written by Dr. A.A. Stanley. The
words of "The Yellow and the Blue," which are set to the air of Balfe's
"Pirate's Chorus," are as follows:
Sing to the colors that float in the light;
Hurrah for the Yellow and Blue!
Yellow the stars as they ride thro' the night,
And reel in a rollicking crew;
Yellow the fields where ripens the grain,
And mellow the moon on the harvest wain;
Hail!
Hail to the colors that float in the light;
Hurrah for the Yellow and Blue!
Blue are the billows that bow to the sun
When yellow-robed morning is due;
Blue are the curtains that evening has spun,
The slumbers of Phoebus to woo;
Blue are the blossoms to memory dear,
And blue is the sapphire, and gleams like a tear;--
Hail!
Hail to the ribbons that nature has spun;
Hurrah for the Yellow and Blue!
Here's to the college whose colors we wear;
Here's to the hearts that are true!
Here's to the maid of the golden hair,
And eyes that are brimming with blue!
Garlands of blue-bells and maize intertwine;
And hearts that are true and voices combine;--
Hail!
Hail to the college whose colors we wear;
Hurrah for the Yellow and Blue!
The popularity of the old song to Dr. Tappan and the other members of
the early Faculty, adapted from the old church tune: "Where, Oh Where,
are the Hebrew Children?" has been suggested. It is probably one of the
oldest of Michigan songs, and has survived through a succession of
student and faculty generations; though now it is one of the least of
many, and is only heard in the variation,--
Where, Oh where, are the verdant freshmen?
They've gone out from their prescribed English,
Safe now in the Sophomore class,
and so on.
Most of the songs of earlier days are now forgotten. In 1864-65 the
_Palladium_ offered a prize of $10 for the best original song, and of
the two which were considered of equal merit, one at least survived for
many years and was sung at all great University occasions. It was set to
the air of the Marseillaise, and the first stanza is as follows:
Come, jolly boys, and lift your voices,
Ring out, ring out, one hearty song;
Praise her in whom each son rejoices,
And let the notes be loud and long.
'Tis Alma Mater wakes the spirit,
And prompts the strain of harmony--
Oh, sing to her triumphantly!
The glorious theme--do ye not hear it?
Hurrah! Hurrah! ye sons
By Alma Mater blest!
All hail! All hail! her honored name,
The pride of all the West!
Professor Gayley wrote several other songs which have long been
deservedly popular. One of them, "Birds of a Feather," arranged by
Professor Stanley to the "Eton Boating Song," is as follows:
O whiles we tell of rushes,--
O whiles we sing and sup,--
And sip the wine that flushes,
In Hebe's amber cup,
And toast the maid that blushes
And smiles, and then looks up,
And toast the maid that blushes,
And smiles, and then looks up!
In sad or singing weather,
In hours of gloom or glee;
Birds of a feather
We haunt the same old tree,--
And sing, sing together,
O Michigan, of thee!
Another song by Professor Fred N. Scott which was popular for many
years, usually known as "Ann Arbor, 'tis of thee we sing," has fallen
from its former esteem, because it was sung to the tune of "The Watch on
the Rhine." The words of the first verse are as follows:
Ann Arbor, 'tis of thee we sing,
From thee our choicest blessings spring;
Accept the tribute of our song,
O Alma Mater, wise and strong.
We love thy classic shades and shrines,
We love thy murm'ring elms and pines;
Where'er our future homes shall be,
Our hearts, our hopes are all with thee.
Two of Michigan's most beautiful anthems, it must be confessed with
regret, have come of late upon somewhat evil days. The reason probably
lies in the smaller proportion of students of classical training. Yet
"Laudes Atque Carmina" cannot be surpassed in the sonorous beauty of
Professor Gayley's words and the majestic exaltation of the air, written
by Dr. Stanley.
Laudes atque carmina,
Nec hodie nes cras,
Sed omnia per tempora,--
Dum locum habeas,
Tibi sint dulcissima,
O Universitas;
At hostes, Pol, perniciter
Eant _eis korakas_.
Chorus:
O Gloria, Victoria,
O Decus omnium,
O salve Universitas,
Michiganensium, Michiganensium.
O clara Universitas,--
Nec merum Caecubum,
Nec flores nimium breves,
Nec nard' Assyrium,--
At gloriam, victoriam,
Vovemus merito;
Nos tui cives, juvenes,
Tui perpetuo!
Scarcely less beautiful though apparently somewhat too full of classical
allusions for the taste of the modern undergraduate is the "Goddess of
the Inland Seas," the words of which, by Professor Gayley, are set to an
old air by Joh. Peters.
Sing no more the fair Aegean,
Where the floating Cyclads shine,
Nor the honey'd slopes Hyblaean,
Nor the blue Sicilian brine,
Sing no storied realms of morning
Rob'd in twilight memories,--
Sing the land beyond adorning,
With her zone of inland seas.
Lo, the sacred fires of knowledge
In thy temple are enshrined,--
Through the cloisters of thy college
Choruses eternal wind!
And all other incense scorning,
Michigan, they bring thee these
Hearts of ours, and songs of morning,
Goddess of the inland seas.
The foregoing songs are all of a somewhat earlier generation. To these
one more should be added. "The Friar's Song," sung for many years by
"The Friars," a convivial student club which was eventually suppressed.
The organization has lived, however, in the memories of many graduates
and in the words and music of this song which was composed and written
by the members as they drank and sang around their long table. The words
are credited to Harold M. Bowman, '00.
Where no one asks the "who" or "why";
Where no one doth the sinner ply
With his embarrassments of guile;
Where's ne'er a frown but brings a smile,
And cares are crimes,--'tis sin to sigh,
'Tis wrong to let a jest go by,
And hope is truth, and life is nigh,
The bourns of the Enchanted Isle--
In College Days.
Then raise the rosy goblet high,--
The singer's chalice,--and belie
The tongues that trouble and defile;
For we have yet a little while
To linger,--You and Youth and I,
At Michigan.
Many beautiful songs have been added to the University treasury by the
various Michigan Union Operas, of which not a few have survived the
ephemeral popularity of the generations which witnessed the
performances. These include, "When Night Falls, Dear," from
"Michigenda," by Roy Dickinson Welch, '09, who also furnished the music
for "A Faithful Pipe to Smoke," from "Culture," the words for which were
written by Donal Hamilton Haines, '09. The opera "Koanzaland," by Donald
A. Kahn, '07-'10, with the music by Earl V. Moore, '12, furnished two
good songs, "In College Days" and "Michigan, Good-Bye" (with the
collaboration of J. Fred Lawton, '11), while "Contrarie Mary" furnished
a second "Friar's Song," by Robert G. Beck, 13_l_, and Willis A.
Diekema, '14. All these songs, and many others, are now collected in a
song-book.
Two ever-popular marches celebrate Michigan's prowess in athletics. "The
Victors," by Louis Elbel, '96-'99, never fails to thrill a Michigan man
when the band comes on the field, ushering in the team to its great
strain:
Hail! to the victors valiant,
Hail! to the conq'ring heroes, hail!
Hail! to Michigan,
The champions of the West.
Though these words are somewhat too grandiloquent for all occasions, the
same spirit which inspires the students to bare their heads and sing
"The Yellow and the Blue" at all the great football games, whether in
victory or defeat, prompts the band to head the students' march back
from the field to the stirring strains of this University march, whether
its sentiment is justified or not. Hardly less popular is the football
song, "Varsity," written by Professor Earl V. Moore, '12, for which the
words were furnished by J. Fred Lawton, '11.
Varsity,
Down the field, never yield,
Raise high your shield!
March on to victory
For Michigan,
And the Maize and Blue.
Oh, Varsity, we're for you,
Here for you, to cheer for you,--
We have no fear for you,
Oh, Varsity.
Nor should another exceedingly popular song of the present time be
overlooked:
I want to go back to Michigan,
To dear Ann Arbor town,
Back to Joe's and the Orient,
Back to some of the money I spent.
I want to go back to Michigan
To dear Ann Arbor town,--
I want to go back; I've got to go back,--
To Michigan.
This song has also been popular at Minnesota, it is said, where, during
the long period of Michigan victories in football which was at last
broken in 1919, it was sung with the same words but in a somewhat
different spirit.
The official colors of the University are maize and azure blue. Blue was
used officially by the University from early days; but it was not until
the class of 1867 chose the maize and azure blue as emblematic of the
University that the names of the colors were definitely fixed. As for
the colors themselves, they have varied widely, and it was not until
1912 that the exact shades were determined by a committee appointed by
the University Senate.
There is little doubt but that originally the colors were a deep blue
and the accepted color of Indian corn or maize, as is shown in the
ribbons on old diplomas and dance programmes. But gradually the colors
faded; the blue particularly, from almost a navy blue to a "baby blue,"
while the maize became an expressionless pale yellow. These colors were
entirely ineffective for decorations, and made it necessary for the
Athletic Association to employ shades entirely different from those
generally regarded as the true University colors. It is quite possible
that a misinterpretation of the words of the song "The Yellow and the
Blue" had something to do with the alteration from the original brighter
colors.
An inquiry into what "azure blue" really was, soon revealed the fact
that it was generally defined as the clear blue color of the sky or of
the sea reflecting it, and was further described as that of the
semi-precious stone lapis lazuli. Cobalt and prussian blue were also
given as synonyms. With this clear definition in mind, the committee was
able to fix the colors, and Michigan now has a clear deep blue and the
yellow of Indian corn, with the exact shades officially fixed by samples
preserved among the University's records.