The University of Michigan, Wilfred Shaw

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THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

BY

WILFRED SHAW

General Secretary of the Alumni Association and Editor of The Michigan Alumnus

Illustrated by Photographs and Four Etchings by the Author

NEW YORK
HARCOURT, BRACE AND HOWE
1920

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COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY HARCOURT, BRACE AND HOWE, INC.

THE QUINN & BODEN COMPANY
RAHWAY, N.J.

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To
MY WIFE

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PREFACE

It has not been the purpose of the author to write a history of the University of Michigan. Several predecessors in this field have done their work so well that another book entirely historical in character might seem superfluous. Rather it is the aim of this volume to furnish a survey—sketching broadly the development of the University, and dwelling upon incidents and personalities that contribute movement to the narrative.

Those familiar with the history of the University will recognize the sources of much that appears in the following pages. The author must acknowledge an especial debt to Professor Ten Brook's "History of State Universities," and the two histories of the University, written by Elizabeth Farrand, '87m, and Professor Burke E. Hinsdale. Much of the material in the early chapters is based directly upon Professor Hinsdale's painstaking and authoritative work. Other works which have been consulted are Judge Cooley's "History of Michigan," Professor C.K. Adams' "Historical Sketch," published by the University in 1876, Professor A.C. McLaughlin's "History of Higher Education in Michigan" (Contributions to American Educational History, Number II, Bureau of Education, 1891), the reports of the Fiftieth and Seventy-fifth Anniversaries and Dr. Angell's Quarter Centennial Celebration, and Dr. Angell's "Reminiscences." The files of The Michigan Alumnus and the Michiganensian, the records of the Regents' meetings and the calendars of the University have likewise proved extremely valuable. For the material in certain chapters, "The Michigan Book," published in 1898, by Edwin H. Humphrey, '97, an article entitled "The University of Michigan and the Training of Her Students for the War," by Professor Arthur L. Cross, in the Michigan History Magazine, for January, 1920, and Andrew D. White's "Autobiography" have been freely consulted.

It is unfortunate that our information concerning the earliest days of the University is comparatively meager. The collections of old newspapers and other original sources in the University Library have been utilized, but these are not as extensive as they should be. Undoubtedly not a little material in the form of letters and diaries is still to be found among the papers of the earliest officers of the University and the graduates of the '40's and '50's. The writer would appreciate any information regarding such documents.

Acknowledgment is also due to the many friends who have offered suggestions and helpful criticism. Especially is grateful recognition due to Professor F.N. Scott, Judge V.H. Lane, President Emeritus Harry B. Hutchins, Dr. G. Carl Huber, Dean John R. Effinger, Professor Evans Holbrook, Professor Arthur L. Cross and the late Professor Isaac N. Demmon; their encouragement and counsel have been invaluable.

An apparent inconsistency in references to the major divisions of the University may be noted by some readers. These are sometimes referred to as "Departments" and sometimes as "Schools" or "Colleges," as the case may be. This arises from the fact that the official nomenclature was changed about ten years ago. In general the author has referred to these divisions as "Departments" in discussing the period before 1910.

W.S.

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CONTENTS

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

[1]

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THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN

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CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

One early June day some fourscore years ago, it was 1837 to be precise, a party of distinguished visitors arrived in what was then the little backwoods community of Ann Arbor. The interest of the loiterers at the country tavern and the corner grocery was no doubt aroused by their coming, for Ann Arbor we may suppose was not different from other small places; and this curiosity could hardly have been lessened by the fact that the newcomers were all men who figured prominently in the affairs of the State, which had been admitted to the Union only four months before. Whatever the speculation aroused by the personnel of the party, however, the business that called them to Ann Arbor caused little comment, if we are to judge from contemporary reports. Yet this unpretentious gathering of notables was charged with the inauguration of what was to become one of the most significant developments in the history of American education,—the establishment and successful maintenance of a University by the people of a State.

Thus met for their first session the Regents of the future University of Michigan. Unfortunately we do not know the particulars of this meeting; not even in what country lawyer's office or public hall it was held; still less are we able to profit from any of the illuminating details or personal comments a modern observer would have given us.[2] Our knowledge of the character of the men, and the official report of what they did, is all we have to reveal the spirit in which they set themselves to their task.

Of the nineteen members of the Board at that time eleven were present at this first session, which lasted three days. Included among the number, as ex-officio members, were the boy Governor of the State, Stevens T. Mason, then only twenty-five years old, the Lieutenant-Governor, Edward Mundy, and the Chancellor of the State, Elon Farnsworth; while among the members by appointment were Michigan's first Congressman and author of the law under which the University was to be organized, General Isaac E. Crary, and two well-known Detroit physicians, Dr. Zina Pitcher, afterward to be known as the founder of the Medical School, and Dr. Samuel Denton, destined to be a professor in the same Department.

Their first action was the appointment of a committee to select the forty acres offered as an inducement to bring the University to Ann Arbor. Measures were then taken for the organization of the institution; the Legislature was petitioned to give the Board the power to appoint a Chancellor; four professorships were established until more were needed; salaries were limited to not less than $1,200 or more than $2,000; and a Librarian was appointed for a library not yet in existence.

Thus the University began its career. The men who were responsible for it in its early years were, for the most part, lawyers and politicians, lacking even the actual experience in educational matters which the clergymen of that time were supposed to have; but there is evidence of an idealism and confidence in the future on their part which must explain the eventual success of the University,—a vision which enabled[3] it to become the model for all succeeding state institutions.

The task before this Board and its immediate successors was not an easy one. They saw, in their mind's eye, a university with thousands of students, forming the cap-stone of a great educational system which was to rest on the little log schoolhouses which were so rapidly rising in the wilderness about them. Their immediate resources, however, proved almost ridiculously inadequate, while their best efforts were often nullified by the selfishness and lack of foresight of many of their contemporaries. Land set aside for the University by the Government was sold for a song to satisfy speculators. An elaborate building program had, perforce, to be abandoned and even the simple buildings erected were criticized as extravagant. The Faculty was far from being a harmonious little family, and dissensions arose between the students and teachers over the establishment of fraternities; while the jealousy of rival religious denominations and the lack of a strong executive multiplied the difficulties which made the first years of the University far from happy.

Nevertheless the University came through it all, not unscathed, but sufficiently strong and vigorous, and with great possibilities for the future in the rising fortunes of the Commonwealth, which gradually came to take a great pride in this child of its first years. To the State, no less than to the Regents and Faculty, belongs the credit of Michigan's great achievement in American educational history,—the first proof that a university, maintained by the people of a state as part of its educational system, could be made a practical success.

The idea of a state university, or rather a state educational system, was not in itself strikingly new; in fact two interesting experiments in Detroit had preceded the Uni[4]versity. But none of the original thirteen colonies, or the new states so rapidly being carved out of the lands brought in by the addition of the Northwest Territory, had been able to make really practical that provision in the Ordinance of 1787 which, from its place above the stage in University Hall, has sunk into the consciousness of so many student generations of the University of Michigan.

The actual success of the University was Michigan's first great contribution to the Nation. The inauguration of practical laboratory work in science, as well as the speedy organization of Medical and Engineering Departments, was the second step. This led to a new relationship between education and practical life; others besides candidates for the ministry began to come in greater numbers to seek degrees. Hardly less revolutionary in the third place was Dr. Tappan's effort to make Michigan a real University,—the introduction of true graduate study which, though not immediately successful, made Michigan once more a pioneer among American schools. Again, the establishment of the chemical laboratory, the introduction of co-education, and the creation of a Department of Education, bringing with it a correlation of the University with the high schools of the State, are all matters now so generally taken for granted that it is somewhat difficult nowadays to give the University proper credit for leading the way.

In recent years other state universities have overtaken Michigan in their development. Some states are supporting their universities even more liberally than Michigan. Many[5] have gone so far as to do away with student fees, an item which has a large place in Michigan's annual income. Whether this is entirely desirable is perhaps a question. One of the University's greatest assets is the interest and support of her former students. They have shown less of the spirit which is more or less inevitable in all state institutions,—a feeling that once they have received their educational bargain, their responsibility to the institution ceases. The loyalty of Michigan's alumni body may arise in some part from the very fact that the education given has not been entirely free, as well as through a justifiable pride in the prestige and academic traditions which the years have brought.

Other universities also have developed further means of maintaining friendly relations with the people of their states, through affiliating the state agricultural colleges with the university and offering elaborate programs of extension courses. In this direction Michigan has made haste slowly, for there is danger to true academic ideals in such a course. The result has been that there is no instruction given in the University that cannot be considered of proper academic character under present-day standards.

Our university system has progressed so far and so fast, however, that the educators of the first half of the nineteenth century would find little they could recognize in the wide range of human knowledge included in our modern university curricula. When the University was founded, the schools of America were really closer to the great universities of the Middle Ages than to those of the present day. The comparatively brief period covered by the life of the University of Michigan has seen a greater change in educational ideals and practices than anything which took place during the[6] preceding thousand years, for we have added to their heritage all the great developments of the past century in science and the arts.

Michigan has done her part in this transition from the old to the new; and in carrying on her work she has acquired a life of her own, an academic atmosphere, and a characteristic student life which have a peculiar interest to all Michigan men and women. To chronicle in brief the main events in Michigan's history; to suggest their significance; to picture the life of the students and Faculties; and to set forth the University's real measure of success, in order that all who are interested in the University may know her and understand her ideals and traditions, is the aim of the following chapters.

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CHAPTER II

THE FOUNDATION OF THE UNIVERSITY

The history of the University of Michigan might properly be said to begin in 1817. It is true that the University seal proclaims 1837 as the year of its birth, but the present institution is only a successor of two previous incarnations in Detroit, which were its direct predecessors. The State Supreme Court, in fact, held in 1856 that the corporate existence of the University began with the Act of the 26th of August, 1817, and has been continuous throughout all the subsequent changes of the organic law.

It would be difficult, however, to recognize the present University in that curiosity of educational history established by the Act of 1817 under the sonorous title of the "Catholepistemiad, or University of Michigania." This institution, in effect designed to be a university, was to be composed of thirteen didaxiim, or professorships, of such branches as Catholepistemia or Universal Science, Anthropoglossica or Literature, Physiosophica or Natural Philosophy, Polemitactica or Military Science, and Ennœica or Intellectual Sciences, which embraced all the Epistimiim or "Sciences relative to the minds of animals, to the human mind, to spiritual existences, to the Deity, and to religion." It is worthy of note also that Chemistry, Medicine, and Political Economy were provided for under the names of Chymia, Iatrica, and Œconomica. This scheme, which was prepared by Augustus B. Woodward, Presiding Judge of the territorial Supreme Court, went further than this pro[8]vision for the University, however, for it contemplated as well a complete state educational system, with subordinate colleges, academies, schools, libraries, museums, athenæums, botanical gardens, laboratories and "other useful literary and scientific Institutions consonant with the laws of the United States and of Michigan." These the President and the Didactors were to provide for, as well as for Directors, Visitors, Curators, Librarians, Instructors and "Instructrixes" throughout the various counties, cities, towns, townships, or other geographical divisions of Michigan.

To support this grand scheme, the public taxes were to be increased fifteen percent, and a provision, which seems strangely unacademic to the college community of a century later, was made for four successive lotteries from which the Catholepistemiad might retain fifteen percent of the prizes for its own use. Two of these lotteries apparently were drawn.

The institution which arose in the shade of this immense growth of pseudo-classical verbiage was a very modest undertaking indeed and developed little beyond the primary school and classical academy first established. These were housed in a little building in Detroit, twenty-four by fifty feet, on the west side of Bates Street near Congress, afterward occupied by one of the branches of the University. Scarcely more ambitious was the faculty of two men, the Rev. John Monteith, a Presbyterian clergyman who was President and seven-fold didactor, and Father Gabriel Richard, a Catholic priest who was Vice-President and incumbent of the other six didaxiim.

Absurd as was the terminology and ridiculous as were its vast pretensions in view of the little French-Canadian community it served, nevertheless, the educational scheme[9] which the act outlined was of great significance in the future development of education in the State. It was one of the first plans in America for a complete educational program to be supported by the people of a state.[1] Its sources were to be found, undoubtedly, in the strong influence of French thought on contemporary American life, for this scheme was but a copy of the highly centralized organization of state instruction which Napoleon gave to France in the Imperial University of 1806-08. As Professor Hinsdale says, "the ponderous name belonged to organized public education." Four years later, another act established in Detroit "an University for the purpose of educating youth" as the successor of the Catholepistemiad, with little change in the broad and liberal outline of the plan save in two particulars,—a change from classical to English nomenclature and the substitution of a Board of Trustees for the self-governing President and Didactors of the earlier scheme.

Michigan at this time was on the far edge of civilization; it was not even organized as a territory until the year 1805. In 1800 the total population was only 3,757, while in 1817 it could not have been more than 7,000. The inhabitants of Detroit only numbered 1,442 in 1820. Aside from the Indians, who for many years were to be a not inconsiderable portion of the population, the early inhabitants were all French settlers whose main business was fur trading. With the first years of the nineteenth century, however, there came a constantly increasing stream of "Bostonians," as the men from the East were called. They were not welcomed at first, [10]although their enterprise and education were to transform Michigan within a surprisingly short period into one of the most progressive of the new states. Nevertheless this growth was at first slow and it was not until Michigan became a state in 1837 that the rapid increase in settlers from New York and New England changed so completely the character of the people that it became in a few years a predominantly agricultural, instead of a primitive fur-trading community. The rapidity of this movement towards the West, once begun, was most fortunate, as the settlers from the older states in the East were enabled to put into effect immediately their own training in the schools of New York and New England for the benefit of their children. This is one of the underlying causes of Michigan's success; whereas other states, whose settlement began earlier, failed through the lowering of the standards of education inevitable in the hard life of the generation succeeding the first pioneers.

The initial public support of education in Michigan, as in all of the new states west of the Alleghenies, came from the important provision made by the Federal Government in 1785 for a system of surveys of the public lands. These had eventually been deeded to the Government by the different states as the only practicable settlement of conflicting claims which at one time promised to disrupt the new confederation. Their acquisition by the nation and their eventual division and admission to the Union as states contributed not a little to the strengthening of the central authority at a time when it was a vital necessity. The first survey of these lands provided, as is well known, for division into townships six miles square, to be again sub-divided into thirty-six lots one mile square called sections. The provision of this ordinance[11] of particular interest in this connection is the following: "There shall be reserved the lot Number 16 of every township for the maintenance of public schools within the said township."

In the Ordinance of 1787, providing for the administration of the Northwest Territory, we have only the familiar general declaration that: "Schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged," but an ordinance adopted ten days later provided that in addition to the school lot in every township: "Not more than two complete townships are to be given perpetually for the purposes of a University, to be laid off by the purchaser or purchasers as near the center as may be, so that the same shall be of good land to be applied to the intended object by the Legislature of the State." This was the fundamental action which made possible the foundation of the University of Michigan almost at the same time that the State was admitted to the Union.

For the most part the story of the land grants under this provision is an unfortunate one of speculation, misappropriations, and sale by venal Legislatures, whose only excuse was probably their inexperience and lack of vision; and the natural desire of the people to benefit at once from the endowment these lands represented. Michigan had her troubles in common with the other new states, but she did manage to acquire enough from these lands eventually to give the University needed support in her very lean early years. Their history, therefore, is not without interest. When Indiana territory was divided by Congress in 1804 into the three districts corresponding to the present states of Indiana, Illinois, and Michigan, one township was reserved in each for a seminary of learning. This, in Michigan, was increased in 1826 to two townships, which might be located by[12] sections in any of the districts surveyed. Even more important was a measure approved by Congress in 1836 which permitted the State to control the selection, administration, and even eventual sale of these sections with no reference to the limits of the Congressional townships, thus permitting their consolidation into one state fund. This precedent has been followed by all the states entering the Union since 1837.

The plan of making a state trust of the public lands was a good one—on paper. But with the rapidly growing population, envious eyes were soon cast on these tracts by immigrants, many of whom settled on these sections as squatters, to make endless trouble in the future with their conflicting claims. The first lands definitely set aside were selected by the Trustees of the old University of Detroit in 1827 within the limits of what is now the city of Toledo. The selection could not have been better, consisting in all of some 960 acres, but most unfortunately the best part was exchanged in 1830, on the representation of land-sharks, for poorer land and the land thus received was sold four years later for $5,000. The remainder was disposed of fifteen years later for about $19 an acre, bringing to the University a total of some $17,000 for land which eventually came to be worth, literally, millions. Meanwhile other tracts were being located in all the counties of the State then organized. Soon after Michigan became a state, the Superintendent of Public Instruction made an inventory of these which showed that at $15 an acre they would bring a fund of $691,200 and an annual income to the University of $48,384. At $20, which he thought might easily represent their value, they would bring an annual income of $64,912. The first sale justified his optimism, as the price averaged $22.85 an acre, though[13] only one-fourth of the purchase money was paid in cash. But the people of the State soon began to murmur; they were not interested in continuing these big reservations of choice land for an object so remote as a university. The Superintendent of Public Instruction, moreover, found himself involved in all kinds of trouble with the purchasers. The matter finally came up to the Legislature under the guise of a bill for the relief of certain settlers on university and other state lands, which would have thrown these sections on the market at a nominal price and insured the squatters permanent tenure. The bill was a short-sighted and vicious one and was promptly vetoed by the young Governor, Stevens T. Mason, because he felt these lands were given to the State as a sacred trust. In this courageous action he performed one of the greatest of his many services to the University.

But the Legislature had a different idea as to the sacredness of the trust. Various measures were passed, lengthening the time of deferred payment, successively lowering the minimum price at which the lands were to be sold and eventually in 1841 making the minimum price of $12 retroactive. Under this measure, $35,651 were actually returned or credited to purchasers. When the lands were all sold the average price realized was not quite $12 an acre, resulting in a fund of some $547,000 from which the University now derives an annual income of $38,433.44. While this amount is by no means as large as was hoped for in those early days, this income, if it had been available in the first years, would have helped the struggling institution materially.

To most of us this dissipation of what might have been, with more careful and conservative management, a magnifi[14]cent endowment seems almost a tragedy. But there is another side. Michigan was far more fortunate in her disposal of these public lands than any of her contemporaries and obtained more than twice the amount realized from any other state lands in the Northwest. For example, Wisconsin only realized $150,000 from her 72 sections, while others fared worse instead of better. Michigan is regarded in this respect as a model, instead of a horrible example. Then, too, the early sale of the land was imperative if the University was to live. The income from this source was almost its sole support except the exceedingly slender student fees. We must conclude, therefore, that the Government grants performed their function; thanks to them we still have a University and still receive a respectable income from the fund which represents their sale.

The Constitution prepared for the prospective State by the Convention of 1835 provided for a University and authorized its immediate establishment upon the adoption of the Constitution. This provision was the result of the joint labors of two men whose memory will always be held in honor by the University;—John D. Pierce, a graduate of Brown University and a missionary in the service of the Presbyterian Church, who was then about forty years old, and General Isaac Edwin Crary, a graduate of Trinity College, Connecticut (1827), who, with his bride, made his home with Pierce in the tiny backwoods settlement of Marshall. They were both men of unusual caliber and were interested vitally in the affairs of the territory, particularly educational questions. Many are the discussions these two must have held, to which a stray copy of a translation of M. Victor Cousin's report on "The State of Public Instruction in Prussia," made to the French ministry of Public[15] Instruction, which fell into the hands of Pierce, certainly contributed not a little. Here was the account of a state system of public instruction which was under successful operation. These men were familiar with the previous experiments in the Michigan of territorial days and with the efforts in other states in this direction, but nowhere could they find the practical help they needed. The few colleges in the country were practically all privately endowed institutions, having no organic connection with the secondary schools, to say nothing of the rare public high schools. Thus the orderly and consistent development of a state school system in Prussia had a peculiar appeal to these pioneers who were already considering the outline of the educational system in the State of Michigan to be.

Stevens T. Mason (1812-1843)	John D. Pierce (1797-1882)
Zina Pitcher (1797-1872)	Samuel Denton (1803-1860)

General Crary became the chairman of the Committee on Education in the Constitutional Convention and upon him devolved the immediate task of drafting the educational article. He had, no doubt, Cousin's report at hand as well as the advantage of the advice of Pierce. The result was the most progressive and far-seeing provision for public instruction in any state constitution up to that time; yet a measure that appealed to the good sense and practical wisdom of the people of the State. In brief it provided that the Governor, with the Legislature, should "encourage, by all suitable means, the promotion of intellectual, scientifical, and agricultural improvement" and that, in particular, there should be appointed a Superintendent of Public Instruction, an officer then unknown to any of the states; that there should be created a perpetual and inviolable public fund from the sale of lands for the support of public schools; and that provision should be made for libraries as well, one at least in each township, to be supported from money paid for[16] exemption from military service and from fines collected for any breach of the penal law. The section concerning the University was as follows:

This constitution went into effect as soon as Michigan became a state on the 26th of January, 1837, though Pierce, afterwards known affectionately in University circles as "Father Pierce," had already been serving as the Superintendent of Public Instruction since the previous July. Upon him fell the important task of preparing a system for the organization of common schools, together with a university and its branches. The system he devised has become a landmark in educational progress throughout the world, as is shown by the numerous foreign delegations which have visited the University in recent years for the purpose of studying our educational system. As for the plans outlined by Pierce, which were quickly approved by the Legislature in March, 1837, we can best quote President Angell when he said fifty years later: "Our means have not yet enabled us to execute in all particulars the comprehensive plan which was framed by Mr. Pierce."[17]

There was no precedent in America for the task set him. Eight of the new states, it is true, had accepted federal grants of land but had failed in the trust thus imposed, and the feeble schools they supported offered no more guidance than Michigan's two experiments in Detroit. The field was practically virgin soil, actually as well as metaphorically; the problem was the effective organization of a university on the basis of the land given by the Government to the State for this purpose.

The answer was the Organic Act of the University of Michigan approved March 18, 1837. In essentials it provided for a Board of Regents with a Chancellor who should be ex-officio President. Of the Regents twelve were to be nominated by the Governor and confirmed by the Senate, while the Governor, Lieutenant-Governor, the Judges of the Supreme Court, and the Chancellor of the State were to be members ex-officio. The University was to consist of a Department of Literature, Science, and the Arts, a Department of Law, and a Department of Medicine. The professorships were specified and it is significant that, in addition to the usual branches taught in those days, such as Ancient and Modern Languages, Philosophy, Moral Philosophy, and Natural Theology, provision was also made for professorships in Chemistry, Geology, Botany, Fine Arts, and Civil Engineering and Architecture. A limiting clause, however, was incorporated in this ambitious scheme, which provided that only so many professorships should be filled at first as the needs of the institution warranted. While the immediate government of the University was to be entrusted to the respective Faculties, the Regents had final authority in the regulation of courses and the selection of textbooks, and were empowered to remove any professor,[18] tutor, or other officer, when in their judgment the interests of the University required it. The fees were to be $10 for residents of the State. A Board of Visitors was also to be appointed by the Superintendent of Public Instruction to make a personal examination of the University and report to him their observations and recommendations. It was also provided that such branches of the University were to be established in different parts of the State as might from time to time be authorized by the Legislature. These branches, however, were not to confer degrees, though they were to have Departments of Agriculture in connection and also an "institution for the education of females in the higher branches of knowledge, whenever suitable buildings should be provided for them." The funds for these branches were to be appropriated from the University Fund in sums proportionate to the number of scholars.

Shortly after the first meeting of the Board of Regents in 1837, the Legislature, following some of their suggestions, modified the University Act in certain particulars; abolishing the Chancellorship of the Board of Regents and making the Governor the President of that body, at the same time directing the Regents to elect a Chancellor of the University who should not be a member of the Board. This act also gave the Regents power to assign the duties of vacant professorships to any professor already appointed and to establish branches in the different counties without further legislative authority. The Board was also authorized to purchase philosophical apparatus, a library, and a cabinet of natural history.

These were the essential provisions for the University. With so novel a scheme the Regents and the Legislature naturally had to proceed on a more or less cut and try[19] method, but those at all familiar with the organization of the present institution will recognize familiar features in this first plan. One of the practical problems which faced those who held the fate of the University in their charge was the question as to where students, sufficiently trained in the higher branches, were to be found in a state which numbered, all told, not more than 100,000 souls, scattered for the most part in little frontier settlements. This explains the provisions for the branches, which were to be in effect the high schools from which the University was to draw its students. For a time this was the actual development; but after the branches were discontinued, high schools, supported by the various towns of the State, came into existence and were eventually bound to the University through the admission of their students by certificate. Thus the same end was accomplished and at less expense.

When one considers the actual situation in Michigan at that time, the program outlined by this act seems extraordinarily ambitious if not actually ridiculous. The hard and primitive life of those days is almost inconceivable now, and yet the change has come well within the lifetime of the oldest inhabitants of many thriving cities of the State. The secret lay in the extraordinary increase of the population. Settlers came in so rapidly that, where in 1834 there were but 87,278 inhabitants, there were over 212,267 in 1840, and it was precisely this growth, evidences of which were on every hand, that encouraged those educational pioneers to aim high. The result has justified their optimism; though there were to be many years of small things and limited means before the fulfillment of this early vision. As Professor Hinsdale wisely says in his History: "A large scheme would do no harm provided no attempt were made at[20] once to realize it, and it might in time be well filled out; while a small plan, in case of large growth, would require reconstruction from the foundation." The result has amply proved the worth of the venture.

As has been seen, the University was to be but a part of a complete state system. As a corollary in the minds of its sponsors private institutions were to be discouraged. Superintendent Pierce even queried whether it would not be wise to forbid them altogether. That proving entirely impracticable, the alternative was to make the University and the branches so good that private schools could not meet their competition. He first endeavored to prevent the chartering of private colleges; later he sought to deny them the privilege of conferring degrees. In this he asked the advice of Eastern educators, among them President Wayland, of Brown, who wrote him, "By a great number of small and badly appointed colleges you will increase the nominally educated men, but you will decrease the power of education because it will be little else but the name."

In spite of this support his efforts, however, were not effective and in 1839 the Legislature in the name of freedom and opposition to monopoly passed an Act to incorporate the Trustees of Marshall College, in Pierce's own home town. By 1850 several such charters were granted and in 1855 the degree conferring power was given these institutions. It is doubtless true that at least some of the opposition with which the University had to contend during her early years may be traced to this first policy, which aroused the sectarian spirit behind the smaller colleges and it was important to that extent; but far more significant was the alternative of concentrating all the energies of the State in the one great institution. Events have proved this the wise course. We[21] have had the example of less wise counsel in neighboring commonwealths where the state universities have suffered from a multiplication of small schools and have only recently been able to acquire their full stature as true universities.

The establishment of the branches, which preceded the opening of the University by several years, and their quick discontinuance, is an interesting episode connected with the University's early years. They formed the necessary preparatory schools for the coming University, and furnished the first instruction under its auspices in the new State. By the end of 1838 five branches with 161 students had been established with the "decided approbation and support of the inhabitants." For some years these academies flourished in a modest way, though they never enrolled more than 400 students in any one year. But this effort, which originally aimed to cover every county in the State, soon arrived at the place which might have been foreseen from the beginning. The branches began not only to overshadow the parent institution but actually to eat up all of the University's resources. The necessary action followed quickly when the University began to demand all the available income; in 1842 the Regents gave notice that the appropriations for the branches would be reduced and by 1846 all support was definitely withdrawn.

This was practically the end of these schools, though some of them managed to maintain a precarious existence for a few years. They had, however, served a useful purpose. Without the students they trained it is difficult to imagine where the first classes to graduate would have received the preparation which enabled the University to maintain collegiate, instead of preparatory, courses,—the rock upon[22] which so many institutions stumbled. Then, too, they accustomed the people of the State to the idea of schools affiliated with the University and prepared the way for the local high schools which within a short time came to serve the same purposes as had the branches. Finally they performed a valuable service in the preparation of teachers for the common schools. The $35,000 spent by the Regents on these branches was therefore far from wasted. Rather it was one of the series of fortunate measures, somewhat blindly entered upon, which served the University well; but it is equally true that the abandonment of the policy came only in the nick of time, for the Regents were already in serious financial difficulties.

With all of these favorable influences, the horoscope of the University was at least propitious. The people of the State were familiar with the idea of a state educational system; the immigrants from the East were for the most part homogeneous and of a progressive spirit; it was believed that an adequate income for the educational program was assured from the sale of state lands; provision had been made for the proper preparation of matriculates in the University; and above all, wise and far-sighted men had devised a scheme of organization which showed familiarity with the best there was in educational development at that time. We can now take up the story of the University itself.

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[23]

CHAPTER III

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[24] 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.

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[25] 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[26] 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[27] 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[28] "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 collec[29]tions, 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[30] 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.

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.[31] 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, after[32]wards 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[33] 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[34] 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.

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[35] 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:

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.[36] 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[37] 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[38] 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, tradi[39]tional 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.[40]

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[41] 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 resolu[42]tion was introduced requesting the removal of the Rev. D.D. Whedon for the reason that he had—

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."[43]

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[44] 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.

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[45]

CHAPTER IV

THE FIRST ADMINISTRATIONS

The new University Act had charged the Regents with the duty of electing a President immediately. It was some time, however, before they found the right man, Henry Philip Tappan, LL.D., who was inaugurated as the first President of the University of Michigan on December 22, 1852. Dr. Tappan's name was first suggested by George Bancroft, the historian, who was also considered for the position, but there was some opposition, which seems to have centered about the fact that Dr. Tappan had once consulted a homeopathic physician, and he was not elected until August 12.

President, or as he was often called, Chancellor Tappan was a man of wide culture, of established reputation as a scholar, and an author on philosophical and educational subjects. His personality was magnetic and commanding, but it was combined with a frank and fatherly attitude toward his students which won their immediate and life-long friendship. Born at Rhinebeck on the Hudson, of mixed Dutch and Huguenot ancestry, on April 18, 1805, he came to Michigan in time to give his best years to his new work. Many of his friends may well have been astonished at his acceptance of a post in a tiny college far on the outskirts of a village in the Western wilderness, which carried with it the munificent salary of $1,500, together with a house and an additional $500 for traveling expenses. Yet he came. The principles of the University agreed with the ideals he had received in his long study of European methods[46] and his personal experiences in German schools. He determined to make a real university in the West; he fixed his glance upon the opportunities for future development rather than the bareness and inevitable crudity of pioneer life. For the first time he found his cherished ideas embodied in the provision for a state university; and though he realized they had not been made effective, he believed that in the West, if anywhere, was his opportunity to put them into actual practice, unhampered by the traditions which had grown up everywhere in the East.

The new President, in the first catalogue issued under his administration, let the world know in no uncertain terms what the University was to become as long as his was the guiding hand. He traced the succession of state schools up to and through the University, where, he declared, it was his purpose "to make it possible for every student to study what he pleases, and to any extent he pleases."

Some of his proposed measures must be regarded as prophecies for the future; they could hardly have been taken seriously at the time. They are not all realized even now; but they show the breadth of his conception of a real university. He emphasized openly the correspondence between the Michigan and the German systems of education, and declared that;

These ideas he put into practice at once and Michigan became the first university in the country to introduce practical scientific courses within the regular arts curriculum, and, following Harvard by only a few years, was the second university in the country to break away from the accepted hard and fast course in which the humanities were the beginning and the end of education, acknowledging the claims of science by granting the degree of Bachelor of Science. He was likewise a pioneer in other ways; for the University was the first to recognize the needs of special students who, while not seeking a degree, were anxious to pursue studies in special subjects.

President Tappan was wise enough not to seek the establishment of his grand object at once, but he did announce in that first catalogue that he proposed—

Here was the germ of a Graduate School, though for many years the lectures were more in evidence in the catalogue of the University than in the class room. He was sufficiently practical to realize that the collegiate course, "with its schoolmaster methods and discipline," of his time must be retained for a period, though he aimed eventually to transfer its work to the high school, gradually swinging the University to "true university methods, free and manly habits of study and investigation." He also aimed to gather[48] about him a Faculty in which every chair was filled by a man of exceptional ability and thorough training, "not a picked up, but a picked out man," to quote Professor Frieze in his Memorial Address on Dr. Tappan.

These are the cardinal principles which guided Michigan's first President throughout his career in the University, and, as ideals, have been a powerful factor in its growth since his time. More apparent to his contemporaries were the immediate benefits of his strong administration. He saw at once the urgent need of more funds for the library and obtained a subscription from Ann Arbor citizens of some $1,515, to which the Regents added $300, resulting in an increase of 1,200 volumes. From that time dates the steady and consistent growth of the University Library. Even more pressing appeared to him the need for an astronomical observatory. From the very day of his inauguration, he made the raising of sufficient funds for this purpose one of his first tasks and so effective were his efforts that the Observatory was opened in 1855; the result of a gift of $15,000 by citizens of Detroit, to which the University had added an appropriation of $7,000. This gave Michigan one of the three well-equipped observatories in the country at that time. The telescope, a thirteen-inch objective, was purchased in this country, but other items of equipment were obtained in Berlin under the advice of Professor Encke, the Director of the Royal Observatory, whose assistant, Dr. Brünnow, came to America as Michigan's first Professor of Astronomy.

It was during Dr. Tappan's administration also that the professional departments, as they were long called, came into their own. The Medical School had been organized since 1849, when the first building was completed at a cost of about $9,000; but the work was only fairly under way[49] when he came. The new department was opened in October, 1850, with ninety matriculates and grew with extraordinary rapidity, so that for the first years the enrolment exceeded that of the Literary Department. When Dr. Tappan left the University in 1863 there were 252 students in the Medical Department and by 1866-67 their number increased to 525, the largest enrolment in the history of the School. The creation of a Law Department was considered at the same time the Medical Department was organized, but lack of resources as well as any enthusiastic support from the legal profession in the State postponed its opening for ten years. The growing number of petitions for its establishment, however, finally led to the opening of the School in 1859 with a Faculty of three, and ninety-two students. Hardly less important was the establishment in 1855 of a course in civil engineering. It was organized in connection with the Department of Physics, however, and did not attain to the dignity of a separate department with its own head for many years. Even so modest a beginning as this for technical courses in the University found precedent in those days only at Harvard. Lack of funds and co-operation from the Legislature seems to have been the only reason which led to the abandonment of plans for the creation of departments of Agriculture and Military Science which were seriously considered at that time.

The inauguration of these different schools was all a part of Dr. Tappan's scheme for the development of a true university. Though he deplored their necessarily lowered requirements, he saw the day when they would be graduate departments, as in effect the Law and Medical Schools are in the way of becoming now, at least insofar as they require a minimum of two years' work in the Literary College be[50]fore the student is permitted to enter upon his professional studies. They formed, as it was, with the various scientific courses established in the Literary Department, a significant departure from the single "cast iron" course of the Eastern colleges. By very reason of this innovation Michigan, in President White's words, "stands at the beginning of the transition of the old sectarian college to the modern university."

In all this President Tappan's influence was vital. He entered whole-heartedly into the life of the University, displaying a remarkable shrewdness and charity in his dealings with the students, and sympathizing heartily with the work of every professor. One of his students, Byron M. Cutcheon, '61, afterward a Regent of the University, thus describes him:

The powerful frame and compelling presence of Chancellor Tappan are well portrayed in the magnificent bas-relief by Karl Bitter, now in Alumni Memorial Hall, a fitting tribute to his influence upon the University on the part of his former students. Especially noteworthy is his representation here with his favorite mastiff, "Leo," his inseparable companion. No reminiscence of a student of[51] that time is complete without mention of "Leo" and his later companion "Buff," an only slightly less huge animal acquired during the later years of Dr. Tappan's administration. So when, in the popular air of the sixties, his students asked:

The answer was:

President Tappan was not fortunate in his appearances before the State Legislature to ask for appropriations. He was too good a speaker not to command a hearing, but his repeated references to the German prototypes of the University were resented; while the opposition of the smaller church colleges, who represented the unsectarian character of the University as "Godless," was very evident in the indifferent and even discourteous attitude of the individual members of the Legislature. Finally President Tappan became disgusted and as he left, never to return, he made the memorable prophecy: "The day will come, gentlemen, when my boys will take your places, and then something will be done for the University." Within a decade this began to come true, but not in time to save to the University the services of Dr. Tappan.

It was one of the University's greatest misfortunes that her first President was not permitted to work out his plans. The story of his removal is a sad one, though fortunately the issues were largely personal and did not involve fundamental University policies. When Dr. Tappan came to[52] Michigan he found the Faculty and Regents entirely ready to co-operate with him; glad, in fact, to have a strong hand at last at the helm. The Board sympathized with his ideals and the Faculty seconded him loyally in all his efforts. This happy state of affairs continued from 1852 to 1858, when, in conformity with the constitutional provision of 1850, a new Board of Regents succeeded the one which had chosen him as President. This Board was not only entirely new, but it was composed of men who lacked what would seem to be the elementary qualifications for such a task; in fact, few if any of them had had any academic training whatever. Nevertheless this did not in the least embarrass them, and they proceeded at once to take a very active part in University life. It soon became evident that there was a great difference between their views as to the duties of the President, and those of Dr. Tappan, who assumed that, as executive officer, his authority in the internal affairs of the University and over the Faculty was, under certain limitations, comprehensive and effective. He could not see how the University could properly develop otherwise.

The new Regents, on the contrary, seemed to feel that not only the administration of the University finances but a great share of the legislative and administrative power rested with them; and they proceeded to act upon that assumption. They prepared a set of rules for the conduct of the University without consulting President Tappan, and appointed a series of executive committees which seriously limited his control. Certain of the Regents were particularly aggressive, especially Levi Bishop, the Detroit member of the Board, who for a long period wrote anonymous articles on the University in a Detroit paper, giving his biased view of all that happened in the Regents' meetings. The Ann Arbor Regent,[53] Donald MacIntyre, whose banking office became the unofficial center of University affairs, also proved himself unfriendly to the President.

The Faculty, unfortunately, was divided in its sympathies. It may be said that Dr. Tappan possessed the defects of his qualities. He showed a certain lack of fellowship and understanding in dealing with some of his associates and assumed, perhaps unconsciously, an air of authority and an attitude of superiority which was resented. Where his pre-eminent position was unquestioned, as in his relations with the students and with the people of the State, the charm and graciousness of his manner and his parental kindness won him universal friendship and respect. Moreover Dr. Tappan was courageous, generous, and direct in all his dealings, in spite of that touch of condescension. He insisted strongly, however, on what he regarded as his prerogatives and exhibited a certain lack of diplomacy and forbearance in dealing with the Regents and Faculty, which under ordinary circumstances would have been regarded as the personal idiosyncrasy of a great man. But with a majority of the Regents definitely opposed to him from the first and with a growing Faculty cabal in support, it weighed heavily against him. His every action was criticized. Though he was a clergyman of the Dutch Reformed Church, and was affiliated with the Presbyterian church in Ann Arbor, he emphasized the University's non-sectarian character, and paid no attention to the denominational affiliations of the candidates in making appointments to the Faculty. He carried this policy so far that he took no active part in the affairs of his own church in Ann Arbor, a course which was resented by the Presbyterians, while it won him no friends in the other churches which he attended impartially.[54] His European habit of serving wine at his table also was severely censured, particularly by the local Regent, who was a Presbyterian and a strong prohibitionist. Finally, his efforts to maintain a high standard in the Faculty by holding in subordinate positions men who had not proved their ability did not increase the number of friends among his colleagues.

A change was anticipated in 1864, when a new Board of Regents offered promise of a different order. Dr. Tappan therefore, in spite of many temptations to resign, continued to hold his position, largely because of the appeals of his friends, particularly students and alumni, to "stick it out." But certain members of the old Board, it was said, had stated that they would bring about his removal before the end of their term. The event proved their intention, for the retiring Board, on June 25, 1863, without warning, and only giving him a few hours to offer his resignation, summarily removed him from the offices and duties of President and Professor of Philosophy. At the same meeting Dr. Tappan's son was also removed from the position of Librarian, which he had held most successfully for some years, while Dr. Brünnow, who had married his only daughter, was dismissed from the Professorship of Astronomy, where he had contributed so much to the reputation of the University. The Board then elected to the Presidency and the Professorship of Rhetoric and English Literature Dr. Erastus O. Haven, who had served as Professor of Latin, and later of History and English Literature, from 1852 to 1856, and who had afterward been engaged in the publication of a religious paper of the Methodist Church in Boston. Dr. L.D. Chapin, Amherst, '51, pastor of the Ann Arbor Presbyterian church, who was among those considered for the[55] Presidency, was elected to the Professorship of Moral Philosophy.

Dr. Tappan never returned to Michigan. He spent the rest of his life in Europe and died in Vevey, Switzerland, in 1881. He had come to Ann Arbor with high hopes, the fulfilment of a desire to take part in the "creation of an American University deserving the name," and his disappointment and disillusionment was a crushing blow. His spirit still lived, however, in the institution he loved and served, for we know now that no man has had so large a share as he in shaping the course the University was to take or insuring a proper direction of the first steps. When he came he found a small struggling college of 222 students; when he left there were 652 students in three flourishing departments and the beginning of a real University. Were he alive today he would realize that his great work was not in vain. The earnest invitation of the Regents that he be the honored guest of the University at the 1875 Commencement, which was declined because of failing health, must have softened bitter memories, particularly as the message of acknowledgment included a statement renewing the invitation for the following year and incorporated a resolution erasing all criticism from the Regents' record.

The situation which faced his successor was a delicate one. The removal of Dr. Tappan had created a storm which grew rather than decreased, and President Haven found an unfriendly community and a hostile student body awaiting him. Every effort, in fact, was being made to secure the re-election of Dr. Tappan as soon as the new Board of Regents was in authority. President Haven, however, who had known nothing of the circumstances which led to the removal of Dr. Tappan when he accepted the Presidency, showed[56] great wisdom and tact in this emergency. He won the respect of every one by an announcement that he did not intend to stay unless re-elected by the new Board, and appealed for harmony and good feeling in the face of what was to all a difficult situation. At their first session the new Board of Regents considered the recalling of Dr. Tappan. Floods of letters had been received from alumni, students, and friends of the University, advocating such action, but the Regents felt that this course would be unwise as it would have involved practically a reorganization of the whole Faculty. The personal character of the trouble which resulted in the removal of Dr. Tappan, emphasized later by an injudicious statement issued at the suggestion of some of his friends, would have rendered such a course almost inevitable.

Dr. Haven was not a man of the powerful caliber of his predecessor but he proved a most satisfactory administrator during a trying period. Of a more conservative temper, he devoted himself to caring for the immediate affairs of the University rather than the problems of future development. He was born in Boston, November 1, 1820, and was graduated from Wesleyan University in 1842. After a few years spent in teaching, he entered the ministry of the Methodist Church, but resigned in 1852 to accept the professorship of Latin in the University. Like his predecessor, he had an extraordinary ability as a speaker, though he was more given to epigrams and felicities of expression, with which his speeches fairly sparkled. His characteristic humor, quoted by Professor Winchell in his Memorial Address, is illustrated by the following passage:

Erastus Otis Haven, LL.D. (1820-1881) President of the University, 1863-1869	Henry Simmons Frieze (1817-1889) Professor of Latin, 1854-1889 Acting President of the University, 1869-1871, 1880-1882

Dr. Haven, in spite of his active denominational ties, was a strong supporter of the non-sectarianism of the University. "I maintain," he said, "that a State University in this country should be religious. It should be Christian without being sectarian," and again, "Those questions upon which denominations differ—however vital they may appear—should be left to their acknowledged teachers outside the University."

In his general policy he faithfully followed the paths which had been laid out for the University's development; and despite predicted disaster he saw a great increase in her material welfare and her standing in the academic world during the six years he was President. Within four years the attendance practically doubled from 652 in 1862-63 to 1,255 in 1866-67. This was due to the great and somewhat disproportionate growth of the two professional schools, which were now well under way, and to the reaction following the falling off of students during the Civil War. In 1864 a School of Mines was announced, but it did not prove successful and was soon absorbed in a Department of Mining Engineering which in turn failed to survive. In 1867-68 a Latin and Scientific course was established, substituting modern languages for Greek as cultural studies, an innovation which speedily proved popular and widely imitated. A course in Pharmacy was first given in 1868, though it did not become a Department for some years. The Library also grew from 13,000 volumes in 1864 to 17,000 in 1869, includ[58]ing one gift to the law library of 800 volumes. Other gifts increased the scientific resources of the University.

This growth in students and in the scope of the curriculum made additions to the buildings and equipment imperative. The Medical Building was enlarged by a new section, erected at a cost of $20,000, one-half of which was raised by the townspeople of Ann Arbor by general taxation; while an addition to the Observatory and its general renovation cost $6,000, an expense again defrayed by Ann Arbor and Detroit citizens. A much needed addition to the Chemical Laboratory was also made, and one of the dwelling houses on the Campus was made into a Hospital.

The financial situation during most of this period, however, was threatening. The great increase in the cost of living which followed the Civil War was making existence difficult for the whole University. The total income was but $60,000, while the average professor's salary was only $1,500. Up to this time the State had contributed nothing to the University for its support, aside from the loan made in 1838, though it was glad enough to bask in the reputation which the great and growing institution brought to the Commonwealth. The University, in fact, had grown beyond its resources, and something had to be done. The Regents accordingly took the University's case to the Legislature, which granted, in 1867, a tax of one-twentieth of a mill on each dollar of the taxable resources of the State, yielding a prospective income of about $16,000 annually—provided, however, that a Professor of Homeopathy be appointed in the Department of Medicine and Surgery.

This actually proved worse than nothing, for it increased tenfold the difficulties of the University and precipitated a long and violent discussion which nearly disrupted the Medi[59]cal Department. The Regents were not compelled to take the money; so they postponed action and sought to evade the issue by proposing to establish a Department of Homeopathy in some other place than Ann Arbor. But this was held illegal by the Supreme Court and the matter was again postponed. At the end of two years, partly at least as a result of President Haven's masterly statement of the University's plight before the Legislature, a new law was finally passed giving the University not only an annual subsidy of $15,500 for the two ensuing years, but granting also the sum that had accumulated for two years as a result of the first Act. Thus was the University saved once more. The Board was not only enabled to bring the University's facilities into correspondence with its rapid growth; but more to the point, it could now increase the salaries of the Faculty so that full Professors in the Literary Department at last received the $2,000 originally provided in 1837. This relief was of the utmost importance. Still more significant was the fact that a new policy was inaugurated by which the necessity of state support for the University was recognized; support which has never since been withheld, for the tax was successively increased to one-sixth of a mill in 1893, to one-fourth in 1899, and finally in 1907 to the present three-eighths of a mill. At last Michigan, in the fullest sense of the term, became the University of the State of Michigan.

This was the culmination of President Haven's administration. A few weeks later he resigned to accept the Presidency of Northwestern University, a school maintained by his own denomination, where he doubtless felt there were wider opportunities in his chosen field. His resignation was accepted by the Regents with regret and the declaration that the success of the University during the preceding six[60] years "to a large extent had been due to his learning, skill, assiduity, and eminent virtues," a statement which was given added force by an unsuccessful attempt to have him return during the interregnum of two years that followed. He died in Salem, Oregon, August 2, 1881.

The Regents were not able at once to find a successor to President Haven, so Professor Henry S. Frieze, who held the chair of Latin, was appointed Acting President. This position he filled so successfully for two years that he was asked informally whether he would accept the Presidency. The choice, however, fell in turn upon Professor Julius H. Seelye of Amherst College and President James B. Angell of the University of Vermont, both of whom visited Ann Arbor but afterward declined the appointment.

Meanwhile the good fortune which led to the selection of Dr. Frieze as Acting President was shown by two important measures which were the outstanding features of his administration. For many years there had been a growing sentiment in favor of the admission of women to the University, which had been steadily resisted by the students, Faculties, and Regents. President Haven had come to see its inevitability, particularly in a state institution, and perhaps its advisability, but successive discussions had only postponed action from year to year. So it was not until January 5, 1870, that the great step was taken in the following innocuous resolution:

[61]

Great was the opposition, particularly from students and Faculties. The Medical Department was especially concerned and even organized an elaborate duplication of courses with an increase of $500 in professorial salaries, measures which later proved unnecessary. One month later, on February 2, 1870, the first woman was enrolled in the University; Miss Madelon L. Stockwell, now Mrs. Charles K. Turner of Kalamazoo. She was the only woman student until the fall term, when eleven others entered the Literary Department, three the Department of Pharmacy, eighteen the Department of Medicine, and two the Department of Law, with four graduating the following June. Tradition has it that they had a hard time at first. They were treated with indifferent courtesy, college journalism had its fling at them, many boarding places were not open to them, and in fact life was made as unpleasant as possible. But they had good friends in the President and in many members of the Faculties; they asked no favors, and they gained the education on a masculine plane they sought. The experiment proved successful, as the roster of Michigan alumnæ will show; and it was not long before co-education became the rule in all American colleges save the older institutions of the East.

Michigan now, as we have seen, was a state institution in reality as well as in name; but the educational arch of which she was the keystone was not yet completed. The earlier close connection between the University and the schools of the State, contemplated when the branches were established, had proved impossible of realization, and the union high schools which soon succeeded them were tied to the University only incidentally and indirectly through the influence of such teachers as had been students at the[62] University. Their graduates came in increasing numbers, it is true, but they were admitted by examination upon the same basis as the graduates of any school.

The Acting President saw the need of a closer relationship, which would not only strengthen the high schools, but would relieve the University of its elementary courses by eventually making the high schools the equivalent of the German Gymnasia; in effect the present junior colleges, the establishment of which we are now witnessing in all the larger high schools. Professor Frieze therefore proposed that special faculty committees be sent to examine the character of the work in the high schools of the State. If this were approved, a certificate stating that a proper preliminary course was satisfactorily completed, would admit any student to the University without examination. This simple plan was severely criticized by some educational authorities of the time as revolutionary and as a lowering of standards. It soon justified itself, however, and has come to be the general practice; in fact, it has also been extended to cover a reciprocal arrangement on the part of all the leading state universities as well as many of the privately endowed institutions. Again Michigan led the way.

The growth of the University continued undiminished, and soon the need of a large auditorium became increasingly apparent, to say nothing of more offices and class rooms. The Legislature therefore voted in 1869 the sum of $75,000 for the erection of the present main section of University Hall lying between the two original wings, the first buildings of the University. This included a large auditorium, seating nearly 3,000 persons, with a chapel and the necessary offices and recitation rooms on the first floor. The tower, which was the striking feature of this building, was replaced[63] in 1898 by the lower and much safer dome of the present time.

The ability and success with which Dr. Frieze had conducted the affairs of the University was publicly recognized by the Board of Regents at the end of his term, and it was on his advice that the invitation was once more extended to his former pupil at Brown University, Dr. James B. Angell; this time with successful results.

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[64]

CHAPTER V

PRESIDENT ANGELL AND PRESIDENT HUTCHINS

Dr. Angell, fresh from his work in the East as Professor of Modern Languages at Brown University, war-time editor of the Providence Journal, and President of the University of Vermont, came to Michigan eight years after the departure of President Tappan. The Faculty of thirty-five which greeted him was a brilliant company, though small in comparison with a roll over ten times as long when he resigned his office. The catalogue of 1871 shows 1,110 students in the University at that time; at the end of his term of office there were 5,223. The thirty-eight years of his administration not only covered a significant period in the history of American education but it was as well a critical time in the life of the University. In the years between 1871 and 1909 the University showed, once for all, that the experiment involved in its establishment, the popularization of education and the maintenance of a school system and a university by the State, was not only justified but even more, it was extraordinarily successful.

While the University might have developed much as it has without the guidance of President Angell, it may be questioned whether it would have been as effective as a leader in the new movement. The principles which underlie the state university system were stated well by the founders, who incorporated the fundamental idea of popular education in the first constitution of the State, and Michigan's first great President, Chancellor Tappan, tried his best to make[65] them practical. But he was ahead of his time, and it was not until President Angell took the helm that there was progress towards a true University. When he came Michigan was still in many respects little more than a collection of colleges. It was the work of Dr. Angell to build, and to build well, upon foundations already laid; to harmonize, with practical idealism and diplomacy, the advanced ideals of the University with the slower progress of the Commonwealth. While it has come to be no reproach upon the fame of Dr. Tappan that he failed in just this particular, it is the great achievement of Dr. Angell that he succeeded. He made Michigan the model for all succeeding state universities.

The new President was born in Scituate, R.I., January 7, 1829, of good New England stock. Throughout his youth he lived the simple life of a country boy, attending the village school, the academy of one Isaac Fiske, a Quaker pedagogue,—until he was ready for more advanced studies at the academies of Seekonk, Mass., and North Scituate.

This early training, in his later estimation, furnished the best possible instruction, because it involved personal attention from special instructors, a good old-fashioned method which the rapid development of this country has made almost impossible, yet a practice for which he stood consistently as far as possible throughout his whole career as an educator. In speaking of his early schooling he said that "no plan had been marked out for me; being fond of study and almost equally fond of all branches, I took nearly everything that was taught, merely because it was taught."

His health as a boy, however, was delicate, giving small promise of his hale and hearty fourscore years, and he spent perforce two years, from fourteen to sixteen, on a[66] farm. As to the value of this experience, far from uncommon in the lives of many men eminent in the history of this country, he said, "I prize very highly the education I received then. I learned how much backache a dollar earned in the field represents." He prepared for Brown University at a "grammar school" in Providence, where he studied under Henry S. Frieze, destined to become his immediate predecessor in the Presidency of Michigan. He was graduated from Brown, with highest honors, in 1849.

This early New England training was particularly fortunate for one who was to come into such close relationship with the pioneer settlers of Michigan,—New Englanders to a very large extent. Equally fortunate was his later training. His first residence abroad, where he acquired the familiarity with modern languages which fitted him for his first professorship, had been preceded by a year as assistant in the library at Brown University; then he became tutor, and later a student of civil engineering in the office of the city engineer of Boston. In fact, he spent this period to such advantage that later, upon his return from Europe, he was given the choice of a professorship either in civil engineering or modern languages, an evidence of the wide range of his interests. He finally chose modern languages as his subject, and entered upon his career as a teacher, where he developed the highest qualifications. He remained at Brown for seven years.

Many articles and reviews published in the Providence Journal justified his selection in 1860 as the editor of that paper, a position which he held throughout the Civil War with singular distinction.

In 1866, Dr. Angell was offered the Presidency of the University of Vermont, and he accepted it. He took charge of the University when its fortunes were at a low ebb, and[67] the future was not bright. It was due to the administrative ability of the new President as well as to his ripe experience and culture that the day was saved and Vermont prospered, intellectually and financially, during the five years of his administration.

Of his decision to come to Michigan, Dr. Angell said twenty-five years later: "While, with much embarrassment, I was debating the question in my own mind whether I should come here, I fell in with a friend who had very large business interests, and he made this very suggestive remark to me: 'Given the long lever, it is no harder to lift a big load than it is with a shorter one to lift a smaller load.' I decided to try the end of the longer lever."

James Burrill Angell was inaugurated President of the University of Michigan in June, 1871. From that time his life was the life of the University except for interludes of diplomatic service in China, Turkey, and upon various commissions. His diplomatic career, though only incidental to his life work as an educator, showed that he possessed the necessary qualifications for what might well have been a very distinguished career in other fields. At the time of his appointment to China as Minister Plenipotentiary, diplomatic relations in the East were decidedly indirect and characteristically Oriental. It had just taken Germany two years to conclude a rather unimportant commercial treaty, and upon his arrival at Peking his colleagues in the diplomatic service laughed at him for supposing that his one year's leave of absence would suffice for his far more important mission. Yet the revision of the Burlingame treaty, restricting the importation of cheap coolie labor into this country, which he sought, was accomplished within two months. Another important commercial treaty relative to[68] the importation of opium was likewise completed at the same time. He was also successful in his mission to Turkey in 1898 and as a member of the Alaska Fisheries and other international commissions.

But his heart was in his work at Ann Arbor, and thither he always returned despite flattering temptations to enter diplomatic life. A great opportunity lay before him when he took up his new duties and he recognized it. It was his task to bring the State, exemplified in particular by a not always sympathetic Legislature, and by a Board of Regents of continually varying complexion, to a realization of the true function of a university supported by the State. He must arouse the enthusiasm for education and learning which he knew lay deep in the hearts of the people of Michigan. As Professor Charles Kendall Adams, later President of Cornell and Wisconsin, said: "What was called for first of all was the creation and dissemination of an appreciative public opinion that would produce, in some way or other, the means necessary for the adequate support of the University." So well did Dr. Angell accomplish this purpose that of late years he loved to dwell, in his speeches before the alumni, upon what he chose to call the "passion for education" on the part of the people of the State, forgetting utterly the yeoman service he performed all his life toward bringing about that same regard for popular education.

It is true that the foundation and declaration of the educational ideals of the West cannot be ascribed to him. Nevertheless he must be regarded, more than any other one man, as the successful pilot who avoided the difficulties which the very novelty of the situation presented. The comparative freedom from precedent offered an unrivaled opportunity to try new theories in education, and was a continual temptation[69] to try policies which must have proved too advanced for the place and the time.

A survey of the educational system in the West at the time he came to Michigan may be of interest. As regards the number of students, quality of work, and the eminence of the men upon her Faculties, Michigan stood far in advance of other state institutions. This very pre-eminence, however, threw a greater responsibility upon the new President. Lacking precedents, he had to make them for himself, so that the place of the state university in the educational world today is in great degree the measure of success he had in dealing with the practical problems which confronted him throughout his extraordinarily long term of office. When he came to Michigan there was only one other state university of any size, Wisconsin, although several others had already been established. According to the report of the United States Commissioner of Education for 1871, none of them except Michigan, and possibly Wisconsin, were in anything like a flourishing condition. While Michigan had, all told, 1,110 students, of whom 483 were in the Literary Department, Wisconsin had only 355, omitting a preparatory department of 131 students. Minnesota had but 167 students with 144 in the preparatory department, while Kansas enrolled 313. No figures were given for Illinois, which was then the Illinois Industrial University, and Nebraska, both of which had been established for several years.

Yet Michigan, although she was well in the lead in point of numbers as well as in the strength of her professional schools, was far from realizing her possibilities. It would, of course, be a rash assertion to say that she has realized them now. But it is safe to say that no state has maintained more truly the type of the well-rounded university, a[70] large college of liberal arts, with traditions of culture and scholarship which began with its very foundation, surrounded by a ring of effective professional schools.

Two years after he came the present system of revenue from the State was first made operative. This came in the form of an annual proportion of the state taxes, fixed at first at one-twentieth of a mill on every dollar of taxable property; a proportion which continued for twenty years. Since then it has been increased several times until it is now three-eighths of a mill on every dollar; it netted the University in 1909, the last year of his administration, $650,000 instead of the $15,000 of 1873. The total income of the University for that year was $1,290,000 as against $76,702.52 received during his first year.

It was perhaps on the more strictly academic side of the development of the University that Dr. Angell's peculiar genius as an administrative officer was most apparent. When he came, he was forty-two years of age, and in Professor Hinsdale's words, "brought to his new and responsible post extended scholarship, familiar acquaintance with society and the world, administrative experience, a persuasive eloquence, and a cultivated personality." This urbanity and extraordinary ability as a speaker won for him from the first a place in the hearts and in the imaginations of the people of the State. But the most vital administrative task which faced him was to make Michigan a true university as distinguished from a college. He had to correlate and concentrate the various departments, and make them complete by making a place for effective graduate work. Certain revolutionary measures, such as the admission of women, the first tentative steps toward free election of studies, the introduction of a scientific course, had been instituted by his[71] immediate predecessors; it became his duty to make them a success.

Almost contemporaneous with Dr. Angell's inauguration as President was the introduction of the seminar system of teaching, in effect a further application of the foreign methods; not only should the teacher be an investigator and searcher after truth, but the student as well; and more important still, the student should be taught how to carry on original investigation himself by means of seminar classes where student and teacher worked together on original problems.

With all these innovations under way, Dr. Angell found many other opportunities for the introduction of new ideas in education—some of them as startling and as revolutionary as certain of the earlier experiments. These included a modification of that traditional course of classical studies, which can be traced back directly to the Middle Ages. The establishment of the Latin and Scientific Course, which dropped the requirement of Greek, was the first step; this was carried further in 1877 by the establishment of an English course in which no classics were required. The scientific course also underwent further modifications during this year (1877-78), which was characterized by many changes regarded then as radical, though they do not strike one so nowadays. A still more revolutionary step was taken by throwing open more than half the courses to free election, permitting some students to shorten their time in college, and enabling others to enrich their course with other than the prescribed studies, heretofore compulsory and admitting of almost no variation.

All these changes resulted in an immediate increase in attendance, almost 20 percent the first year they went into[72] force. As a direct result of Dr. Angell's recommendation the first chair in the Science and the Art of Teaching in any American university was established in 1880, coming as a necessary corollary to the intimate relation maintained and encouraged by the University between itself and the high schools of the State. In 1891 this department was empowered to grant certificates permitting any student possessing one to teach in any high school in the State.

The Graduate School practically came into being during his administration, as there was really nothing worthy of the name of graduate work before, in spite of the heroic efforts of President Tappan. It was established as part of the Literary Department. When he first became President both the Law and Medical Schools consisted of two courses of lectures of six months' duration, with no severe examination required for admittance. At present they require three and four years of nine months each, as well as two years of work in the Literary College.

President Angell's administration, however, was by no means all smooth sailing. The question of finances, for one thing, was always with him, particularly during his first years, when deficits were regularly reported and as regularly taken care of by special appropriations of the Legislature. The situation became particularly acute in 1879 and as a result the scale of salaries for the President and the Faculty was reduced materially, in the President's case from $4,500 to $3,750. The increase in the value of money following the panic of 1873 was given as an excuse for this action.

Questions of student discipline also disturbed these early years. The eternal rivalry between the Freshmen and Sophomore classes, with its attendant rushes and hazing epi[73]sodes, was growing stronger every year, until in the fall of 1873 the report that thirty freshmen had been "pumped," a more or less self-explanatory term, stirred up enemies of the University throughout the State. In April, 1874, three freshmen and three sophomores were suspended for hazing. This aroused the student body. The two classes concerned met at once and some eighty-four students signed statements that they were equally guilty. The Faculty, after giving these students a week of grace to withdraw their names, finally suspended eighty-one of the signers.

Two problems which arose in connection with the Medical School also proved most embarrassing. Throughout the history of the University there has been a disposition on the part of some members of the medical profession to advocate the removal of the school to Detroit. This question first arose in 1858 and was definitely settled at that time in favor of a united University. The matter came to the fore once more in 1888 when it was proposed to move only the clinical instruction to Detroit. Dr. Angell took a vigorous stand in opposition and by a careful and well-reasoned statement of the case convinced the Regents of the inexpediency and impracticability of such a measure. Though echoes of this project are even now heard occasionally, Dr. Angell's masterly and diplomatic course at this time assured, apparently once for all, the integrity of the University in Ann Arbor. Two members of the Medical Faculty, however, were so committed to the program for removal that they continued the agitation until their resignations were requested by the Regents the following year.

A further difficulty arose over the establishment of a Department of Homeopathy, which had long been the subject of agitation. The Regents postponed action from year to[74] year and refused to appoint two Professors of Homeopathy in the Department of Medicine as directed by an act of the Legislature. In this course they were sustained by the Courts. But in 1875 the Legislature authorized the establishment of a Homeopathic Medical College and made a permanent appropriation of $6,000 for its support. The Board then gave in and proceeded to organize the College, to the great concern of the members of the regular Medical Faculty, many of whom were threatened with professional ostracism, since they were expected to give several preliminary courses to the students in the new college. The venerable Dr. Sager, who was then Emeritus Professor, even thought it necessary to resign all connection with the University. Though for a few years the position of the medical men was difficult, the situation eventually adjusted itself as the new Department grew.

The most trying period of Dr. Angell's long administration, however, were the years from 1875 to 1879, when a comparatively trifling discrepancy in the books of the Chemical Laboratory developed into a struggle which almost disrupted the University. The story of the trouble, which is generally known as the Douglas-Rose controversy, is too long to be told here. In its beginning it was a bit of carelessness on the part of Dr. Douglas, the director of the Chemical Laboratory, in checking over the accounts of his assistant Dr. Rose. The latter was charged with petty defalcations over a long period of years, involving eventually a total of $5,000. Dr. Douglas was an Episcopalian, Dr. Rose a Methodist, and the friends and fellow churchmen of the two men rallied to their support. The Board of Regents became sharply divided. Political influence was used and the State Legislature became involved through an[75] investigating committee which, after a long session, reported in favor of Dr. Rose, who had in the meantime been dismissed from the University. Dr. Douglas was then likewise dismissed.

The University finally brought suit against the two men for the recovery of the laboratory deficit, which resulted in fixing Dr. Rose's liability at $4,624.40, eventually covered by a one-half interest in the Beal-Steere Ethnological Collection, offered by Mr. Rice A. Beal and Mr. Joseph B. Steere, '68, afterward Professor of Zoölogy. Dr. Douglas was charged with the balance of about $1,000, which, however, was practically covered by sums which had been advanced by him for University and laboratory expenses. Eventually Dr. Rose was reinstated as a result of continued agitation, though his connection with the University was not for long; while Dr. Douglas, by a decision of the Supreme Court, to which the case was carried, was completely exonerated; a number of the initials on the disputed vouchers were pronounced forgeries, and some $2,000 and heavy costs were returned to him by the University. This was officially the end of perhaps the greatest period of disturbance in the University's history, a struggle which was in every way a loss, in prestige and internal unity even more than financially. That the growth and development of the institution continued almost unabated through these years proves the fundamental strength and momentum attained by the University in less than forty years.

But neither the successful handling of such administrative problems as are suggested in the preceding paragraphs, or even the improvement in the equipment and personnel of the University, represent rightly the real work of President Angell. His greatest influence lay in his dealings with the[76] students, and through them, upon the educational ideals of the West. And it is precisely this influence, quietly acquired and characteristically wielded, that represents what is perhaps his greatest claim upon the consideration of the future. No one who had the privilege of hearing him speak failed to respond to the quiet persuasiveness of his presence and the charm of his personality. There are some persons in whom is inherent a certain magnetic mastery over numbers. He had this to an extraordinary degree. Merely by rising he could bring absolute stillness upon a cheering throng of students or alumni, and with a few words, quiet but distinct, he could rouse to a remarkable pitch that sentiment known as college spirit. His whole figure was expressive of a benign goodness, illuminated most humanly by the worldly wisdom of an old diplomat. His ability to deal with those who came to him on various errands was remarkable. This is amusingly illustrated by the experience of one man who went to him to present his claims for an increase in salary. His memories of the interview were most delightful but exceedingly hazy as to the matter in question. His only distinct impression was that the interview ended with himself on the door-mat earnestly discussing Ticknor's "History of Spanish Literature" with his host, who had shown him to the door.

During the latter years of his life Dr. Angell published a book of reminiscences which was most favorably received and widely noticed. One well-known journal, however, remarked that it was rather "naïve," a criticism which greatly delighted the man who had met the diplomats of China and Turkey on their own ground and defeated them.

Many honors came to Dr. Angell in the course of his long life, as was inevitable. His scholarship was universally[77] recognized. He received the degree of LL.D. from Brown University in 1868, Columbia University in 1887, Rutgers College in 1896, Princeton University in 1896, Yale University in 1901, Johns Hopkins University in 1902, the University of Wisconsin in 1904, Harvard University in 1905, and the University of Michigan in 1912. He was a member of the American Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, the American Antiquarian Society of Worcester, the American Academy of Arts and Sciences of Boston, and the American Historical Association, of which he was president in 1893. Dr. Angell was a charter member of the American Academy at Rome. For many years he was also Regent of the Smithsonian Institution at Washington. He was always a leader in the Congregational Church and presided at the International Congregational Council which met in Boston in September, 1899. This body was composed of delegates from all parts of the world and represented the scholastic and ecclesiastical organization of the church in the persons of its most distinguished members.

All through his career, Dr. Angell gave evidence of certain characteristics which had definite effects upon his policy as President. Professor Charles H. Cooley, '87, has characterized the especial qualities which made for his success as "his faith and his adaptability." Dr. Angell always believed in the tendency of the right to prevail, and was willing to wait with a "masterly inactivity," avoiding too much injudicious assistance. He was always able to maintain a broad and comprehensive view, the attitude of the administrator, and was faithful in his belief in the Higher Power which guides the destiny of men—and universities. His diplomatic genius, the combination of teacher and man of the world, enabled him to keep in close and sympathetic[78] touch, not only with the student life about him, but also with the difficult problems of an ever-growing Faculty. He always showed himself surprisingly shrewd, yet withal charitable, in his judgments of men and their character, a qualification which enabled him to follow a laissez-faire policy until the proper time. Often his penetration and insight, in analyses of current problems and questions, which might be supposed not to interest so particularly a man of his years, surprised his young associates and gave evidence of the wonderful vitality, the spirit of youth, which lived within him.

Ann Arbor was long accustomed to his familiar figure on his invariable morning constitutional, walking with an elastic, springy step and a ruddy freshness in his complexion which almost belied his gray hairs and his well-known age. He passed few blocks without a word to some one, for a simple, kindly interest in those about him was one of his chief characteristics. It was his essential democracy which kept him for so many years in personal relations with his students, an interest which never flagged until the last, and which was shown by the close track which he always kept of the alumni of the University. For the alumni, he always bore that simplest and most beloved of academic titles, "Prexy." No gentler tribute has ever been paid than the words of his former pupil, Professor Charles M. Gayley, '78, now of the University of California, in the Commemoration Ode, read at the Quarter Centennial of Dr. Angell's Presidency:

To James Burrill Angell must be given a pre-eminent place among those who have made advanced learning for the young people of the land a matter of course. More than any other one person he helped to give to this country one of her proudest distinctions, the highest percentage in the world of college men and women.

President Angell's long administration of thirty-eight years came to an end October 1, 1909, when he resigned what had become a heavy burden to become President-Emeritus. Even now we cannot properly estimate how distinguished that service was. He was then eighty years old and had given the University the best that was in him. The death of his wife, Sarah Caswell Angell, in 1903, was a blow from which he never recovered. She was the daughter of President Alexis Caswell of Brown University, and her sympathetic co-operation and especial interest in the women of the University was no small factor in his success.

For seven years after his resignation he lived in the home on the Campus he had so long occupied, loved and honored alike by students, Faculty, and alumni; and watched with interest and appreciation the development of the University under the new leader. Here he died on April 4, 1916. No tribute to a great leader was ever more fitting than the long double file of students that lined the whole way to Forest Hill on the day he was laid to rest under the simple monument which marks his grave.

No effort was made immediately to find a successor. Dean Harry Burns Hutchins of the Law School, who had once before served as Acting President during Dr. Angell's absence in Turkey, was asked to act again in that capacity. This he did so successfully that on June 28, 1910, he was unanimously elected to the Presidency. He accepted, but[80] upon the condition, expressed in his letter of acceptance, that he serve but five years. The new President assumed his duties when the tide of the University's progress was at the ebb. It is no disparagement of his predecessor to say that for some years the affairs of the University had been allowed to take their course with little aggressive action; his period for vigorous measures had passed. There was much therefore that needed to be set in order in the academic establishment and to this the new executive set himself immediately.

President Hutchins is the first graduate of the University to become its President, for he received his degree in 1871 at the same time Dr. Angell delivered his inaugural address. He was born at Lisbon, New Hampshire, April 8, 1847, and came to Michigan in 1867, the year he entered the University. After his graduation he was for one year Superintendent of the Schools of Owosso, Michigan, after which he returned to the University as instructor in history and rhetoric, becoming Assistant Professor in 1873, a position he held for three years. In the meantime, however, he had been preparing himself for the practice of the law and in 1876 resigned his academic duties to enter active practice in Mt. Clemens. He was recalled to the University in 1884 as Jay Professor of Law, a position which he held so ably that when the trustees of Cornell University were looking for a man to organize a law department four years later their choice fell upon him. This work he undertook and completed with great success, remaining Dean of the Cornell Law School for seven years. In 1895 he was once more recalled to his alma mater as Dean of the Department of Law, a position he resigned to become the fourth President of the University.[81]

For this task he was peculiarly fitted, not only through his previous executive experience and his intimate knowledge of the University, but also by those qualifications which had made him so long a leader in the Faculties of the University. An unusually dignified presence and somewhat judicial manner only conceal a rare simplicity, directness, and kindliness revealed to every one with whom he comes into personal contact. He has the rare qualification of a real and sincere interest in the affairs of those with whom he is dealing, and the kindly sympathy, invariably shown toward every one with whom the wide range of his duties brings him into contact, inspires universal respect and affection, even from those who have on occasion disagreed with his policies. Moreover, he is always ready to listen with open mind on any subject, willing to be convinced, and what is more to act quickly upon conviction. Emphatic in stating and enforcing his conclusions once they are reached, he is always careful of others' opinions.

It is not yet the time nor have we the perspective to view adequately President Hutchins' administration. It has been a period in Michigan's history as distinct in most respects as those of his predecessors. While he followed the academic traditions established in former administrations he devoted himself particularly to the unification and co-ordination of the University as a whole, to the establishment of the necessary financial support on a firmer and more adequate basis, and to the cultivation of more intimate relations with the alumni. Though his influence in the academic life of the University has perhaps never been so personal and compelling as that of his predecessors, largely because the rapidly increasing numbers of students and Faculties alike make the close relationship of an earlier era[82] impossible, the University has not only marched in the ways long established, but has grown and expanded under his sympathetic guidance and with the momentum of her past, until she has come at last to fill in, in great part, the slender lines of the sketch made by President Tappan and the early fathers. This is no small achievement.

The policy first inaugurated in President Angell's time of requiring a combined course in the Literary College and the Medical School for all medical students was extended during President Hutchins' time to the Law School and the Homeopathic Medical School, while the course in the College of Pharmacy was increased to three years and in the College of Dentistry to four years, with an ever-increasing emphasis on the desirability of preliminary work in the Literary College. These measures, though warmly advocated by the respective Faculties, did not come without opposition. The tendency of the time was unmistakable, however, and the University has been strengthened accordingly. Other significant actions taken during President Hutchins' administration were the establishment of many special courses leading to degrees such as Public Health, Aeronautical Engineering, and Municipal Administration, and special curricula in Sanitary, Automobile, and Highway Engineering, Fine Arts, and Business Administration. The special summer courses in Library Methods were introduced just before he took office, and have become an important part of the summer curriculum. It is also not amiss to note that the first three women to hold Professorships in the University were appointed in 1918.

It was also during President Hutchins' administration that the present effective University Health Service came into being. This resulted from a series of recommendations made[83] by a committee of students which were presented to the Regents in November, 1912. These were immediately approved and by October, 1913, three University physicians, including one woman, undertook the systematic care of the health of the student body. At present the staff includes four doctors, besides two nurses and assistants, who give their whole time to this important work. The Service is maintained in its own building, a remodeled dwelling house at the rear of Hill Auditorium, where a free dispensary is open five hours daily. Prescriptions are filled at the Health Service Pharmacy in the Chemistry Building, while provision for the care of seriously sick students is made at the University Hospitals ordinarily at no expense to the student. The cost of the maintenance of this service is supported by a small charge included in the annual fees.

Not the least of the many effective measures taken during President Hutchins' administration was the establishment of the Graduate School as a separate department of the University. For many years it had been maintained as a part of the Literary College, or Department, as it was then, and was administered by a committee appointed from the Literary Faculty. This anomalous position of the graduate work in the University eventually gave rise to suggestions for a change from many different sources, particularly from the Research Club, an organization of many of the leading men in all the Faculties, which came to the attention of the President when he took up his new duties. He at once recognized the desirability of enlarging the scope of advanced study and it was with his active co-operation and hearty support that the new School was created with Professor K.E. Guthe as its first Dean.

The growing cordiality between the University and the[84] other educational institutions of the State is a significant development of late years. This is evidenced by the establishment with several of them of combined courses, which enable their students to pursue a portion of their preliminary work in the smaller school. This spirit of co-operation has also been most effectively advanced through the creation by the University of a series of State College Fellowships with a stipend of $300 each, to be held each year by especially chosen graduates from each of ten colleges in Michigan.

The establishment of extension courses, with the aim of bringing the University into a closer relationship with the people of the State, has also come as the result of the recognition by President Hutchins of the real need of such co-operation. Starting at first from a desk in his own office, from which members of the Faculty were sent to deliver lectures before various bodies about the State, the work speedily grew into a Department under the charge of Professor W. D. Henderson, '04, as Director. At the present time several special courses in literature, history, philosophy, and economics, corresponding exactly to similar courses given in the University are offered in various cities of the State, as well as three hundred lectures by different members of the Faculty. In addition the University has undertaken the training of teachers of industrial subjects under the Congressional provision known as the Smith-Hughes Bill, which provides for the training of teachers in agriculture, industrial subjects, and home economics. For its share in this work the University receives annually, partly from the Government and partly from the State, the sum of $24,000. This work is carried on, not only at the University, where it is under the charge of Professor George E. Meyers, Ottawa College, '96, but in Detroit and Grand Rapids as well as[85] other extension centers, under charge of special Professors of Industrial Education.

Likewise the cordial relations between the University and the high schools of the State have developed consistently as is sufficiently shown by the appropriation of $300,000 made by the 1919 Legislature for the establishment of a demonstration school for the training of students who are preparing themselves as high school teachers.

The University under President Hutchins was thus particularly happy in its relations with the people of the State. This is especially true of their representatives in the Legislature. From time to time he laid before them the needs of the University so effectively that we now have, largely as the result of his efforts, the series of buildings erected recently, including the Natural Science Laboratory, the heating plant, and the new Library, probably the best arranged and most convenient in its appointments in the country, as well as the projected University Hospital, to cost eventually $2,000,000, and the Demonstration School. In addition he secured from the Legislature in 1919 an appropriation of $350,000 to cover the deficit due to the extraordinary war-time expenditures, when the cost of everything was doubled and the income from fees materially lessened, and even more important, an additional $350,000 for two years to cover an increase in Faculty salaries. This item was later superseded by an increase in the valuation of the property in the State, made by the State Board of Equalization, which added over $600,000 to the annual income of the University. Thus was the University saved from what easily might have been a disastrous situation arising from the threatened loss of many members of the Faculty. No event of recent years is of more fundamental[86] importance than this material aid which came to the institution at so critical a period.

No less important and encouraging in their promise for the future have been the gifts of the graduates which have resulted in no little measure from President Hutchins' efforts to stimulate the interest and support of the alumni. The former students of the University have been bound to their alma mater as never before; they have been brought to see that it is their responsibility and privilege to aid the University in many ways impossible to the taxpayer. The Hill Auditorium, the Martha Cook Building, the Newberry and Betsy Barbour Halls of Residence for women and the Michigan Union, to which over 14,000 alumni have contributed over a million dollars,—a record perhaps unparalleled in any university,—to say nothing of scores of other benefactions, are examples of this new spirit on the part of the alumni which President Hutchins has done so much to foster. The continued increase in enrolment from 5,343 in 1909 to 7,517 in 1916-17, with a total of 9,401 in 1919-20, is also an evidence of the effectiveness with which the University has continued to perform its mission, though this continued influx of students brings with it responsibilities and difficulties which have taxed the physical resources, and the ability of the Faculties. Happily the increase in income granted in 1919 is an augury of a better era, if the growth for the next few years is not too overwhelming.

President Hutchins desired to resign the Presidency in 1914, at the end of the term fixed by him in his letter of acceptance, but the Regents were unanimous in their desire to have him remain in office. He again asked to be relieved of the duties of the office in 1916, but once more action was[87] postponed and it was not until March 12, 1919, that his resignation was finally accepted with the regret of the Regents, who expressed "their sincere appreciation of his wise, efficient, and devoted services in behalf of the University." This was to take effect June 30, 1919. The Board thereupon took immediate steps to secure a successor to President Hutchins, but were at first unsuccessful, and once more prevailed upon him to remain in office. This he consented to do reluctantly and only because of his interest in the institution he had served so long and faithfully, postponing yet another year his well-earned rest.

Several noteworthy celebrations have served to emphasize the University's progress. Two of them marked her semi-centennial and her seventy-fifth anniversaries, comparatively brief periods, perhaps, when contrasted with Harvard's celebration of her two hundred and fiftieth year, shortly before Michigan signalized her fiftieth, but symbolizing nevertheless an extraordinary and impressive transformation; the progress of a little backwoods college into one of the greatest of modern Universities. This was the inspiration that underlay these two occasions, made peculiarly significant through the congratulations and messages of good will borne by distinguished ambassadors from other institutions, and through elaborate memorials sent by the Faculties of European Universities, to whom the University's accomplishment was a greater marvel than it was to those more familiar with the conditions which had brought it into existence.

The fifth of June is the natal day of the University and therefore both celebrations were most appropriately held during the Commencement Week of the anniversary years, 1887 and 1912. A Commemoration Oration, in which Presi[88]dent Angell surveyed with wise sympathy and a just pride the University's record was the special feature of the first celebration. Somewhat more ambitious was the seventy-fifth anniversary which took place twenty-five years later. Owing to the fact that Hill Auditorium was still unfinished, and the old University Hall was by no means large enough to shelter all who desired to attend, a special tent was erected near the Gymnasium for the Commemoration Exercises. The Hon. Lawrence Maxwell, '74, of Cincinnati delivered the principal address, a review of the University's history. The special guests and numerous representatives from other universities were tendered a reception and dinner in the University Library, at which President Andrew D. White, of Cornell, held the place of honor upon the program as a representative of the University's earlier days. The whole celebration was in no small part a tribute to the two elder statesmen, Dr. Angell and Dr. White, who had played so great a part in the drama of American education which the occasion symbolized.

Dr. Angell's own share in the history of the University was also marked by the celebration on June 24, 1896, of his twenty-fifth year of service as President. As was inevitable the exercises were a series of personal tributes to Dr. Angell, in which the congratulations and felicitations of Regents, Faculties, and teachers of the State were fittingly expressed. A particularly graceful tribute was the "Commemoration Ode" by Charles M. Gayley, '78, of the University of California.

Of an entirely different character was the great "National Dinner," designed to celebrate the University's services to the Nation, held in the ballroom of the Hotel Astor in New York, February 4, 1911. This was one of the greatest[89] alumni dinners ever held by any university, as there were nearly eight hundred alumni present, including a large delegation from the University, and from Detroit and Chicago, Mr. Justice William L. Day; '70, of the United States Supreme Court, and some twenty-eight members of both houses of Congress. Earl D. Babst, '93, the general chairman of the committee in charge, acted as toastmaster of this gathering, the spectacular character of which was emphasized, not only in the speeches, songs, and college yells, but also by a huge painting of the University Campus filling a good part of the wall above the speaker's table.

On December 29, 1919, it was announced that Marion LeRoy Burton, President of the University of Minnesota, was to become the fifth President of the University on July 1, 1920. This announcement was a great surprise, as his name was only one of many which had been discussed as a possibility by those interested, but the decision was most favorably received by the University body and the alumni. The new President is a young man, but his record of accomplishment has great promise for the future. He was born in Brooklyn, Iowa, August 30, 1874, and was therefore forty-five years old at the time of his election. His earlier education was received in the schools of Minneapolis and at Carleton College, Northfield, Minnesota, where he was graduated with the degree of A.B. in 1900. After some years spent in teaching he eventually entered the Yale Graduate School, where he received his doctorate in 1907.

Two years later he was elected President of Smith College, but spent a year in travel abroad before taking up his duties at Northampton. He remained at Smith until 1917, when he succeeded Dr. George E. Vincent as President of the University of Minnesota, the position he resigned to[90] accept the Presidency of Michigan. He comes to his new task as did his predecessors, Dr. Tappan and Dr. Angell, with a vision for the future of the University. He believes, as they did, that in the State University lies the future of education in this country, and Michigan, with her strategic position between the East and the West, the prestige of her years, the wide distribution of her students, and the proved loyalty of her great body of alumni, offered him a field which he could not well refuse. He has before him the prospect of many years of service, for he is only three years older than was Dr. Angell when he first came to Michigan.

Dr. Burton was officially inaugurated President of the University on October 14, 1920. His formal acceptance of his office was made the occasion of a significant and stimulating educational conference, which lasted for three days. Some two hundred representatives of the leading American Universities and educational bodies listened to the discussion of vital academic and administrative problems of the modern state university during the five sessions, which covered the general topics; "Educational Readjustments," "Administrative Problems," and "Constructive Measures." The inauguration banquet was held at the Michigan Union on the evening of October 15, 1920. President A. Lawrence Lowell of Harvard, President E.A. Birge of the University of Wisconsin, President Harry A. Garfield of Williams College, and the Hon. Thomas E. Johnson, Superintendent of Public Instruction, were the speakers on that occasion.

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[91]

CHAPTER VI

LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND THE ARTS

As the University grew, the first Faculty of two members gradually increased, though for years the roster was far from impressive. What this first Faculty lacked in numbers, however, it made up in character and ability. One has only to read the whole-hearted and loving tributes of early graduates to discern the powerful personalities which inspired them. It is true that for the most part they were scholars of an older school, content to hand on the classical learning of the contemporary college course, rather than original investigators. But how well they performed this task! They inspired a real enthusiasm and love of knowledge for its own sake in those they taught, and furnished them, as well, an ideal for right living—all for five hundred dollars a year. We of a later generation cannot honor them too much.

About these men, strongly individualized in the minds of their students, have clustered stories which have become almost classic. Sharply contrasted in particular characteristics, they have lived as vivid personalities for future college generations in the memories of those students, "who studied syllogisms under the noble Whedon, who polished Greek roots for the elegant Agnew, who bungled metaphysics to the despair of the learned Ten Brook, who murdered chemistry under the careful Douglas whose experiments never failed, and who calculated eclipses of the moon from the desk of Williams, the paternal." This character[92]ization by a member of the class of '49 is paralleled in a more caustic estimate of a somewhat later Faculty by a member of the class of '65 who speaks of "Boise the precise, Frieze the effusive, Williams the plausible, and White the thinker."

Always first in any reminiscences of the early days was Professor George Palmer Williams, the first real member of the Faculty, always known to his students as "Punky," possibly, as Professor D'Ooge suggested, because of the "dryness of his wit." Freshmen were even known to address him as "Professor Punky," only to be pardoned with a never to be forgotten kindliness when they discovered their awful mistake. Professor Williams was a graduate of Vermont (1825) and came to the University from the Pontiac branch to take the Professorship of Natural Philosophy. He was especially loved, not only for his fatherly kindness and genuine sympathy that won the confidence of his students, but also because "the college student pays unstinted admiration to a witty teacher, for no teacher ever had more ready wit and such genuine humor." The Rev. Theodoric R. Palmer of the class of '47, who for ten years was Michigan's oldest graduate, told how Professor Williams on discovering a goose occupying his chair remarked: "I see you have a competent teacher," and wished the class "Good Morning," leaving them to discover the point of their joke.

Professor Williams' strong religious spirit did not prevent an apt employment of examples from the Scriptures on occasion, as his rebuke to an overgrown and too active freshman showed: "Sir, you remind me of Jeshurun; the Bible says 'Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked.'" But in the class room he was traditionally lenient. One student who found himself unable to fit his carefully prepared notes and the exami[93]nation questions together, finally handed them both in and was passed, but only because it was the "wrong year"; "I condition one every other year and if I conditioned you I would have to have you again next year."

Professor Williams served the University long and faithfully, and only resigned his active work in 1875. In 1876 the alumni established a Williams Professorship Fund which eventually amounted to nearly $30,000. This eased his last years until his death in 1881 at the age of 79 years. Although the fund was subsequently greatly lessened by very careless administration, it now amounts to something over the original sum and is administered by the Regents in the form of a retiring allowance, the holder being nominated by the Alumni Association.

The Rev. Joseph Whiting, Yale, '23, under whose charge was the classical training of the six youngsters of that first class, was a man of different type. A fine scholar, he made Greek and Latin "glow with life and beauty," and by his distinguished bearing formed a happy complement to the "jovial and rotund" Williams. His death while he was serving his term as the annual President just before the first class was graduated, was recognized as a great loss by the students, as well as by the Regents, who acknowledged "his urbanity and gentleness of manners," and "his knowledge of character and other properties which especially fitted him to act the part of a governor and counselor of youth."

Professor Douglass Houghton died during the same year, 1845. The services of these two men, as well as those of Charles Fox, Professor of Agriculture, and Dr. Samuel Denton of the first Medical Faculty, are commemorated by the little weather-beaten monument with the broken shaft, which has doubtless aroused the idle curiosity of thousands[94] of students, who have never taken the trouble, however, to decipher the Latin inscriptions which set forth the life records of these early professors.

In 1842 Dr. Abram Sager, a graduate of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute (1831), who later became the first Dean of the Medical Faculty, came to the University as Professor of Zoölogy and Botany. He was then about thirty-two years of age and had for some time been connected with the State Geological Survey as botanist and zoölogist. His contributions to the University while in that position formed the foundation of the present zoölogical collection. One of his students speaks of him as "of exceedingly sensitive mind and heart and of very high and pure morality." A Professor of Intellectual and Moral Philosophy, the Rev. Edward Thomson, Pennsylvania, '29, was appointed in 1843, but served only one year. He was succeeded by the Rev. Andrew Ten Brook, Madison University, '39, who took a vigorous part in the University's life until his resignation in 1851, not to return until 1864 as Librarian—and historian of the University's early days. Professor Ten Brook was of the Baptist persuasion, exceedingly well read, particularly in the literature of his chair. Ordinarily in his classes he was master of the situation, "so long as he had Dugald Stewart's Metaphysics before him," but when discussion became free in his classes and "scholastics were let loose" one of his thought students they "got a little the better of him." That he was a shrewd and honest observer with remarkably little personal prejudice—even in memories of trying times, is shown by his book on "American State Universities" which offers much that is fascinating to those interested in the first days of the University.

In the same year Silas H. Douglas, M.D., who studied at[95] the University of Vermont, was appointed assistant to Dr. Douglass Houghton, Professor of Chemistry, Mineralogy, and Zoölogy, who never took up the active duties of his chair. Dr. Douglas speedily became one of the "strong men" of the Faculty and created the Chemical Laboratory which lent so much prestige to Michigan in its early years. He was of a systematic and orderly temperament whose experiments before the class always came out brilliantly. His careful business-like methods were greatly appreciated by the Regents and he was entrusted with the oversight of the construction of the South College when it was erected in 1849. So successful was he that he saved some $4,000 over the cost of the first building and had enough bricks left besides to build a large part of the Medical Building which was completed in the same year. Those who knew him best supported him loyally in the great dispute which arose over his administration of the affairs of the Chemical Laboratory and their confidence in his uprightness and sterling integrity was justified by the final decision in that most unfortunate case.

These were the men who taught the first class that was graduated from the University in 1845. The same year saw two additions to the Faculty, the Rev. Daniel D. Whedon, Hamilton, '28, who was elected to the chair of Logic, Rhetoric, and History, and Dr. John H. Agnew, Dickinson College, '23, who assumed the Professorship in the classics left vacant by the death of Dr. Whiting. Both had a prominent share in University affairs for a few years. Professor Whedon was a Methodist clergyman, lank and angular in form and feature with a "considerable sprinkling of vinegar at times in his ways of expressing himself," but, according to our oldest living graduate, "his commanding[96] presence, imperative logic and sesquipedalia verba, always used with mathematical precision, hammered truth into us and clinched it." Professor Agnew has been described as a Greek from head to foot, the exact opposite of Dr. Whedon, extremely careful in his dress and appearance and correspondingly neat and precise in the expression of his thoughts. He represented the Presbyterian and Congregational element in the University. The reasons for the resignation of these two Professors in 1852 have already been suggested in the lack of unity and the sectarian rivalries of their time.

Perhaps the most picturesque figure of this early group was Louis Fasquelle, the first Professor of Modern Languages, whose widely used text-books contributed not a little to the prestige of the University. When he came in 1846, his chair was almost a new field in an American college. Only a single term in French was given at first and in fact neither he nor Dr. Sager, charged with the scientific course, were required to give their whole time to their university work for some years. It is somewhat suggestive too, that both Spanish and Italian were offered in the University before a course in German was announced in 1849. Professor Fasquelle was educated at the famous École Polytechnique in Paris, but was obliged to leave France on account of his participation in the revolutionary movement of that period. As Professor in the University he proved "peculiar, but very learned and efficient." The stories of his difficulty with the English language are many, and most of the classic stories told of various members of the French Faculty by successive student generations were originally told of him. He was the first "infiddle," though he was always punctilious in attendance at chapel, which he adjourned on one occasion because the "praying Professor" did not[97] appear. His "vocabul'-ary" was good, but in the words of the time-honored song, "He went up on his emphas'-is."

The new régime of Dr. Tappan witnessed the establishment of a different tradition. The former deference to denominational precedent was definitely abandoned and increasing stress was laid upon scholarly as well as personal qualifications. The new President took the chair of philosophy left vacant by the resignation of Professor Ten Brook, while the old chair of ancient languages was speedily divided. James R. Boise, Brown, '40, who already enjoyed a growing reputation as a scholar, became Professor of Greek, while the Rev. Erastus O. Haven, Wesleyan, '42, afterward the second President, became Professor of Latin. Professor Boise though of a delicate physique possessed great force and impressed the students with the absolute necessity of getting their Greek lessons, ruat coelum. His insistence on discipline and high standards in recitations had a profound influence on the mental habits of those in his classes. Professor D'Ooge, '62, his successor, remarks of him that "probably no teacher of those days got so much downright hard work out of his pupils." Alvah Bradish was also appointed to the chair of Fine Arts at this time, but without compensation, and, though he apparently lectured occasionally, the course soon disappeared from the catalogues, not to be revived for fifty years. The name of the Rev. Charles Fox also appears momentarily as a Professor of Agriculture, a department also destined to quick extinction with his death in less than a year, in spite of the President's best efforts, for the Legislature had already taken the preliminary steps toward the establishment of a College of Agriculture at Lansing.

The strength of President Tappan's policy is shown in[98] the group of men he appointed to Professorships—leaders as well as scholars. Among the first was Alexander Winchell, Wesleyan, '47, whose versatility was shown by the range of his teaching as well as by his long list of published works. He came to Michigan in 1853 as Professor of Physics and Civil Engineering, but within two years was transferred to the chair of Geology, Zoölogy, and Botany, which he held until his resignation in 1873 to accept the Chancellorship of Syracuse University. He returned to Michigan in 1879 as Professor of Geology and Paleontology, and ended his days in Ann Arbor in 1891. With a personality vigorous and powerful, if somewhat unyielding, he was always a factor in faculty affairs, though he was not so happy in his relations with the students as some of his colleagues and therefore does not figure so prominently in their reminiscences. He has been described as a sober, earnest, eloquent, sometimes shrewd and witty but very absent-minded, scholar whose "beautiful and even eloquent language led many to an admiration and love for sciences." His work on the Michigan Geological Survey of which he was twice director, and his life-long effort for the reconciliation of science with religion, brought wide recognition to the University.

A totally different personality was Dr. Henry Simmons Frieze, Brown, '41, who came to Michigan the next year as Professor of Latin Language and Literature, in place of Dr. Haven, who assumed the Professorship of History and English Literature. No name on Michigan's long Faculty roll has been more honored than his. He brought to the University not only well-grounded ideals of true scholarship, but also a broad culture, not too common in those days, and an inspiring interest in literature and art which left a deep impression. It was such spirits as Dr. Tappan, Dr. Frieze, and[99] Andrew D. White, who was also of that early company, that set for the University standards in academic life and ideals which have never been lost, and which enabled Michigan to take her place with such extraordinarily little delay as one of the country's great educational forces. Unhampered by the formalism and traditions of the Eastern universities of that time, these men found here an opportunity for the establishment of the progressive methods of the better European universities. The services of Dr. Frieze as Acting President for the two years preceding President Angell's election are mentioned elsewhere. He was once more called upon to be Acting President during the year Dr. Angell was in China in 1881 and again for a few months in 1887. But these were only interludes, for his influence during his long Professorship, where he easily stood primus inter pares, must be the gauge of the high favor in which he was held by students and Faculty alike. Among the many facets of his genius was a remarkable ability as a musician, and the impetus he gave the musical life of Ann Arbor resulted in the organization of the Musical Society and the naming of the Frieze Memorial Organ in his honor. Andrew D. White tells us, in his "Autobiography," that he found him one of the most charming men he had ever met,—simple, modest, retiring to a fault, yet a delightful companion and a most inspiring teacher. "So passionately was he devoted to music that at times he sent his piano away from his house in order to shun temptation to abridge his professorial work, and especially was this the case when he was preparing his edition of Virgil. A more lovely spirit never abode in mortal frame. No man was ever more generally beloved in a community; none, more lamented at his death." Hardly less important was the inspiration and support Dr. Frieze[100] gave to the study of art through his contributions to the University's art museum. This dates particularly from a gift he made of books, engravings, photographs, and copies of statues and paintings, purchased abroad in 1856 with the unexpended balance of his salary, amounting to $800. This was the real beginning of the University's art collection.

The same day in June, 1854, that witnessed the appointment of Dr. Frieze, saw the election of Dr. Franz F.E. Brünnow, a graduate of the University of Berlin, as Professor of Astronomy and Director of the new Observatory. He too was destined to have a profound influence upon the future of the University though his years in Ann Arbor were comparatively few. Dr. Brünnow had already gained a European reputation as a scientist before he decided to come to America, which he did largely upon Humboldt's advice, and because of his desire to use the astronomical clock and meridian circle which were made in Berlin under his direction for the new observatory in Ann Arbor. The long list of distinguished astronomers who have been students at Michigan may be said to trace their academic lineage back to his acceptance of this position. His successor, James C. Watson, was his pupil and Professor C.K. Adams in his memorial address on Professor Watson said: "During the senior year the Professor of Astronomy lectured to Watson alone. And I remember years afterwards hearing Professor White say to one of his historical classes that the best audience any professor ever had in this University was the audience of Dr. Brünnow when he was lecturing to this single pupil." Dr. White dwells with particular appreciation on the little musical circle formed by Dr. Frieze, Mrs. White, and Dr. Brünnow, which may well have been the original impulse for the future development of musical interests in the Uni[101]versity and the community. Dr. Brünnow's quiet simplicity, which led those "who knew him best to love him, most," sometimes led to humorous situations, as on the occasion when President Tappan requested Dr. Brünnow to find some one to take his place at morning prayer the next day. This commission was performed with Teutonic literalness, for each of the professors interviewed was greeted abruptly with the somewhat startling question, "Professor, can you bray?" He returned to Europe at the same time Dr. Tappan left the University, but his influence remained in the work of his students and the scholarly traditions he established.

Andrew D. White, Yale, '53, came as Professor of History and English Literature in 1857. His influence was only less vital than that of Dr. Tappan and Dr. Frieze because his active service with the University was to last but six years. He was a very young professor, indeed—only twenty-four—but he had had the best of training in France and Germany and was inspired by a vision of a chair of history alone, unencumbered by any allied, or supposedly allied, subjects; something apparently unknown elsewhere, certainly at Yale, his Alma Mater.

He tells with relish in his "Autobiography" of the attentions paid him by the students. As soon as they caught sight of him at the station they asked him if he were going to enter the University. Of course he was. They immediately proceeded to "rush" him, not discovering that he was the new Professor of History until he signed the hotel register. His students were often older than he was and his experiences were many, particularly when he had it out with one student whom he had sized up as a ring-leader in class disturbances. This man was always elaborately inno[102]cent when trouble was brewing, but the young professor was sure he was right in his suspicions as to the seat of the trouble. Finally he delivered an ultimatum: "I see either you or I must leave the University." The student pleaded not guilty but Professor White insisted, suggesting that the Regents might feel the same as he in the matter. After some diplomatic passages, in which the student seemed not unimpressed by the importance given him, he acknowledged that perhaps he had been a little foolish and suggested that they try to live together a little longer. He afterwards became a strong friend of the young teacher and later fell at the head of his brigade at Gettysburg.

The success with which Professor White and his contemporaries labored among their students is shown by his later statement that from among them came senators, congressmen, judges, professors, lawyers, heads of great business enterprises, and diplomats. One became his successor in the Professorship of History and later in the Presidency of Cornell, and a well-known American historian of his time. Another became his predecessor in the Embassy to Germany. Professor White left Ann Arbor in 1863, partly because of business interests, partly because of his election to the New York State Senate and the Presidency of Cornell University.

With these men as leaders Michigan boldly embarked on a series of departures from educational precedents. Though the time was not ripe for graduate study, its desirability had been recognized emphatically in the annual catalogues. In their class rooms several of the Faculty endeavored to do more than follow the accepted textbooks, through lectures, assigned readings, and exercises designed to develop the individual powers of each student. Professor White was par[103]ticularly fertile in these expedients. The claims of comparatively new subjects, foreign to the traditional curriculum, were recognized in chairs of history, English literature, the modern languages, and above all the sciences, where true laboratory work was gradually introduced until Michigan had under Professor Douglas what was probably in its early years the largest chemical laboratory in any American university. The new scientific course, which was established within the Literary Department and not as a separate school, was particularly significant of the progressive spirit of this early Faculty. This came to be so well recognized that Dr. Angell remarked in his inaugural address that the drift of intelligent opinion had been for twenty years towards some of the positions early adopted by the University, such as elective studies and larger opportunities for the study of history, modern languages, and the natural sciences. He also took occasion to suggest that the University would always have to be in a measure dependent upon the alumni, since the Legislature would never become so generous in its appropriations as to make private gifts undesirable or unnecessary.

While the liberal policy which laid the foundation for this expansion of the University's field may properly be said to have been formed during President Tappan's administration, it was continued and wisely expanded under his successors. President Haven's first years were difficult, but he had the support of his colleagues and was fortunate in the appointment of the new members of the Faculty necessitated by the reorganization which ushered in his administration. One of the first of his appointments was that of Dr. Brünnow's favorite pupil, James C. Watson, '57, to succeed him as Professor of Astronomy and Director of the Observatory.[104] Professor Watson's brilliant work had already attracted wide attention, he "was bagging asteroids as though he lured them with a decoy" though he was at that time still a very young man, and his methods as a teacher somewhat peculiar. He paid scant attention to those not vitally interested in his subject, and, as one chronicler observed, showed the folly of a set course of studies and contributed in this way not a little to the eventual adoption of the elective system in the University. His lectures were sometimes brilliant and always lucid, though he was not exacting in recitations or in examinations. The story is told of his passing one student in an examination who had died earlier in the year; he had merely taken the name from the roll prepared the first day of the semester. Whatever were Professor Watson's personal qualifications, however, the long list of eminent astronomers who were his pupils during the years from 1863 to 1879 are ample evidence of his genius, for they include such names as those of his successor Professor Harrington, '68, Otto J. Klotz, '72e, of the Observatory of the Dominion of Canada, Monroe B. Snyder, '72, Director of the Philadelphia Observatory, Robert Simpson Woodward, '72e, President of the Carnegie Institution, John M. Schaeberle, '76e, Astronomer in the Lick Observatory from 1888 to 1897, and George Cary Comstock, '77, Director of the Observatory of the University of Wisconsin.

Edward Olney, whose spirit still lives in the memory of older graduates, also came at this time. He was, unlike most other members of the Faculty, for the most part a self-made scholar of whose ability as a teacher one former student rather ruefully remarked that the "students knew something about mathematics when they got through with him." He was always a prominent figure in the shaping of University[105] policies and to him no small measure of credit is given for the diploma system of admission from the high schools in '71 and the elective system of '78.

The year 1867 brought the appointment to professorships of two men, already mentioned, whose reputation eventually became nationwide. The first was Charles Kendall Adams, who afterward became President of Cornell University and the University of Wisconsin. He was graduated from the University with the class of '61, and after some years as instructor and Assistant Professor followed Andrew D. White in the chair of history. The other was Moses Coit Tyler, Yale, '57, Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature, whose "History of American Literature," published before he left Michigan in 1881, to go to Cornell, as well as many later works, gave him an established place as an authority in this field.

Professor Boise resigned the chair of Greek in 1868 to accept a similar place at the University of Chicago. It is said that his reason for the change was, in part at least, his desire to give his daughter, Alice Boise, an opportunity to matriculate in an institution where women were enrolled. While living in Ann Arbor she had already attended unofficially at least two classes, and was probably the first woman to recite in the University. Professor Boise was succeeded by Professor Martin L. D'Ooge, '62, whose fine enthusiasm for the best in classical culture and his genius for friendship were long with the University. For several years before his death in 1915, Professor D'Ooge was, with Dr. Angell, one of the few links which tied the present Faculty to the era of those earlier leaders.

But the names of all the hundreds of members of the Faculties, who came in ever-increasing numbers after this[106] period, cannot all be mentioned, though many have played important rôles in the growth and development of the University. No record of the Faculty, however, can be left without mention of the Rev. Benjamin F. Cocker, M.A., Wesleyan, '64, who succeeded Dr. Haven in the chair of Mental and Moral Philosophy in 1869, a strong and vital figure, of English birth but a citizen of the world, who at one time nearly lost his life at the hands of cannibals in the South Seas. He and his family arrived in America penniless, but his ability as a thinker and preacher soon made him a place and eventually a professorship in the University, where he was long remembered. He was succeeded by Professor George S. Morris, Dartmouth, '61, who had come to the University in 1870 as Professor of Modern Languages, a man of totally different caliber, not so rugged and picturesque but more sensitive and profound, the first real scholar in the modern sense in the Department of Philosophy. Upon his death in 1889 he was succeeded by the eminent philosopher John Dewey, Vermont, '79, who was followed in turn in 1896 by Robert Mark Wenley, who came to Michigan bearing the highest honors of the University of Glasgow. Within the Department of Philosophy has also developed the special chair of Psychology, held by Professor Walter B. Pillsbury, Nebraska, '92, who came to the University in 1897 as instructor in the subject. Of these men it may be said that they have all contributed their share to the singularly high place the study of philosophy and metaphysics has continued to hold, even in this utilitarian age, among the students of the University.

Elisha Jones, '59, who became Assistant Professor of Latin in 1875 and Associate Professor in 1881, was also a teacher to whose memory long generations of students pay[107] tribute, not only for their introduction to Latin through his textbooks, but for his fine simplicity and enthusiasm for his work. At his death in 1888 his widow established a fellowship which for many years aided many embryo classical scholars. Professor Frieze, the head of the department, outlived him and was succeeded by Francis W. Kelsey, Rochester, '80, whose labors in behalf of the classics, and as president of the American School of Classical Studies at Rome, and the Archeological Institute of America, have been widely recognized. Associated for long years with Professor D'Ooge in the Department of Greek was Albert H. Pattengill, '68, who died in 1906. He was another extraordinary teacher, whose strong personality will long be remembered, while his love of outdoor sports will be honored by generations of athletes whose interests he served unselfishly throughout his lifetime.

The resignation of Charles Kendall Adams brought another loved personality to the University, Richard Hudson, '71, whose gentle peculiarities only endeared him to his students. He succeeded Professor D'Ooge as Dean of the Literary College in 1898. He was a most conscientious teacher who believed in the meticulous presentation of facts in his lectures, though one student at least found that after a long series of lectures about the "low countries," "Flanders," and the "Spanish cities," something else was needed, when confronted by an examination on the history of Belgium. His method of teaching was his own but effective, though many alumni will appreciate his remark to a young instructor, as he poised his right forefinger in midair and cleared his throat, "I wonder if you have any mannerisms that would make you conspicuous before a class?" Professor Hudson not only gave his library to the Univer[108]sity but also left a legacy of $75,000 for the establishment of a Professorship in History. Another popular figure of a generation not too long ago was Andrew C. McLaughlin, '82, the son-in-law of Dr. Angell, now Professor of History at the University of Chicago. Upon the retirement of Professor Hudson in 1911, Claude H. Van Tyne, '96, Professor of American History since 1906, became head of the Department.

In the Department of English and Rhetoric Professor Tyler was succeeded in 1881 by Isaac N. Demmon, '68, who had been Assistant Professor of Rhetoric and History since 1876. Professor Demmon's service in the University, which did not end until his retirement as Emeritus Professor, and his death, in 1920, was long and self-sacrificing. He left a monument to his interest in the Library in several special collections, particularly in the Dramatic and Shakespearian libraries, while his knowledge of the University's history and his remarkable acquaintance among the alumni have been invaluable in the editing of various editions of the Alumni Catalogue, and the revision and extension of Professor Hinsdale's "History." In 1903 Fred N. Scott, '84, became head of the newly created Department of Rhetoric. As occupant of this chair Professor Scott, in addition to his scholarly work, evinced by many books and articles, has been an inspiration, guide, and father confessor to hundreds of students and alumni whose interest lay in literature and authorship.

In modern languages, the task dropped by Professor Fasquelle at his death in 1862 was continued by Edward Payson Evans, '54, until 1870 and then by George S. Morris until his acceptance of the Professorship of Philosophy in 1879. Edwin Lorraine Walter, '68, was then[109] elected to the chair. In 1887 the Department was divided and Calvin Thomas, '74, became Professor of Germanic Languages and Literature, to be succeeded, after his call to Columbia University in 1896, by George A. Hench, Lafayette, '85, who lost his life three years later in an accident in the White Mountains. Max Winkler, Harvard, '89, the present occupant of the chair, eventually succeeded him. After Professor Walter lost his life on the Bourgogne in 1898, the chair of French was filled by Arthur G. Canfield, Williams, '78.

When the new chair in the Science and Art of Teaching was first established in 1879, William H. Payne was appointed as the first Professor. He was an experienced teacher in the secondary schools of the State and contributed much to the eventual success of the new department. After he resigned in 1887 to become Chancellor of the University of Nashville, Burke Aaron Hinsdale, a graduate and for some time President of Hiram College, Ohio, and an intimate associate of President Garfield, was elected to succeed him. Under Professor Hinsdale's strong and vigorous guidance, the department rapidly advanced to a recognized place in the curriculum. Though his bearing was somewhat austere and overwhelming, he could unbend, as was proved on one occasion in the Library when his booming voice brought an admonition from an official. Just then an influential member of the Library Committee chanced to appear. He proved a greater disturber of the peace than Professor Hinsdale, who, nudging his companion, slyly inquired, with the suspicion of a grin, "Why don't you tell him to keep quiet?" Professor Hinsdale was distinguished by his prolific and scholarly writings and left a monument in his "History of the University," which will long be recognized as the[110] standard for the period up to 1900. His death occurred in that year, and the chair thus left vacant was occupied by Allen S. Whitney, '85, whose title was changed in 1905 to Professor of Education.

After the resignation of Professor Watson in 1879, the chair of Astronomy was occupied by Mark Walrod Harrington, '68, until 1892; later he became President of the University of Washington. He was succeeded by William J. Hussey, '89. Since the death of Professor Olney in 1887, the Department of Mathematics has been under the charge of Wooster W. Beman, '70, a member of the Faculty since 1871, whose name now stands first as to length of service on the academic roster.

Albert Benjamin Prescott, '64m, who eventually succeeded Dr. Silas H. Douglas as Director of the Chemical Laboratory, became Assistant Professor of Chemistry in 1865. He organized the course in Pharmacy three years later, becoming Professor of Organic and Applied Chemistry and of Pharmacy in 1870. In 1876 he became Dean of the new College of Pharmacy and in 1884 Director of the Chemical Laboratory. Upon his death in 1905 he was succeeded as Director of the Chemical Laboratory by Edward DeMille Campbell, '86, who had been Professor of Chemical Engineering and Analytical Chemistry since 1902. After the retirement of Professor Williams in 1877, Charles K. Wead, Vermont, '71, became Acting Professor of Physics, to be succeeded in 1885 by Henry Smith Carhart, Wesleyan, '69, who held the chair of Physics and the Directorship of the Physical Laboratory until his retirement in 1905. His successor was John Oren Reed, '85, who became also Dean of the Literary Department in 1907. Upon Dean Reed's death in 1916 the Professorship of Physics passed to[111] Harrison McAllister Randall, '93, who became Director of the Physical Laboratory in 1918.

At the end of Professor Winchell's first period in the University in '73, the several subjects which comprised his professorship were divided. The chair of Botany passed to Eugene Woldemar Hilgard, Ph.D., Heidelberg, '53, who was succeeded two years later by Volney Morgan Spalding, '73, as Instructor in Botany and Zoölogy, becoming Professor of Botany in 1886. Upon his resignation in 1904 the chair was occupied by Frederick Charles Newcombe, '90. The work in Zoölogy passed to Joseph Beal Steere, '68, who became an Assistant Professor in 1876, after five years of travel in the interests of the University in South America, China, and the East Indies, where he collected some 20,000 specimens for the Museum. He became Professor of Zoölogy in 1879, and retained the chair until 1894, when he was succeeded by Jacob E. Reighard, '82. William Henry Pettee, Harvard, '61, assumed the work in mineralogy in 1875 under the title of Professor of Mining Engineering. In addition to his work in his own subject, he served from 1881 to 1904 as editor of the University Calendar and advisory editor of other University publications. Edward Henry Kraus, Syracuse, '96, who occupies the chair of Mineralogy at present, first came to the University in 1904 and succeeded to the chair in 1908. When Professor Winchell returned to the University after his term as Chancellor of the University of Syracuse, he became Professor of Geology and held that position until his death in 1891, when he was succeeded by Israel Cook Russell, New York University, '69. Upon Professor Russell's death in 1906, William Herbert Hobbs, Worcester Polytechnic, '83, was called to the chair from the University of Wisconsin.[112]

Though courses in economics were given in the University almost from the first and; in fact, with International Law, formed the special field of work assumed by Dr. Angell for some years, the Department of Political Economy as such was not organized until after Henry C. Adams, Iowa College, '74, who came to the University as a lecturer in 1881, accepted the chair of Political Economy in 1887. The first step toward a chair in Sociology came with the appointment in 1899 of Charles Horton Cooley, '87, a son of Judge Thomas M. Cooley, of the first Law Faculty, as Assistant Professor of Sociology, from which position he rose to a full professorship in eight years. A separate chair of Political Science was not created until 1910, when Jesse Siddall Reeves, Amherst, '91, came as the head of the new department. The Department of Music had its first beginning with the appointment of Calvin Brainerd Cady, Oberlin, '74, as instructor in 1880. He became Acting Professor of Music in 1885, but resigned three years later when Albert A. Stanley, Leipzig, '75, came as the head of the Department and a few years later Director of the University School of Music, now closely associated with the work of the University though not in any way a part of it. After the disappearance from the Faculty roll of the name of the Detroit portrait painter, Alvah Bradish, who apparently gave a few lectures on Fine Arts during the period from 1852 to 1863, no work in fine arts was given until the appointment of Professor Herbert R. Cross, Brown, '00, in 1911. The work in elocution and oratory was definitely established with the appointment in 1889 of Thomas C. Trueblood, M.A., Earlham, '85, who had for some years held a lectureship in the University, as Assistant Professor of Elocution and in 1892 as full Professor of Oratory.[113]

The chair of Semitics and Oriental Languages, held since 1914 by Leroy Waterman, Hillsdale, '98, was first established in 1893 when James A. Craig, McGill, '80, came as Professor of Oriental Languages, a title which was changed to Semitic Languages and Literatures and Hellenistic Greek the following year.

Following the example of Yale and Cornell, Michigan established a Department of Forestry in 1903, and called Filibert Roth, '90, to fill the chair thus created. For some time courses in forestry had been given in connection with the work in botany, but the growing interest in the preservation and conservation of America's timber resources made more intensive and systematic training seem desirable. A few years later, in 1909, a course in landscape design was established, which shortly became a department under the charge of Professor Aubrey Tealdi, a graduate of the Royal Technical Institute of Livorno, Italy.

The history of the development of special courses and degrees in the University, though interesting and suggestive, can only be given here in a brief outline. As Dr. Angell remarked in one of his reports, the governing board has been distinguished for the boldness and originality of its policy, making frequent changes in traditional college usages, some of which were freely criticized at the time by those who afterwards approved and even adopted them. We have seen how the University departed from the dead level of contemporary college practice in establishing Scientific Courses, and the admitting of those who were not seeking a degree as special students. A few years later, in 1855, came the first indication of one of the principal differences between the old University and that of the present time—the system of elective studies. The concession was a very small one, it[114] must be acknowledged, one-third of the work in the senior year; but it was a break in the dike. This was all that was allowed for fifteen years, or until 1871, when all the studies of the senior year except philosophy became elective.

The establishment of an English course in 1877-78, leading to the degree of Bachelor of Letters, which consisted largely in the study of modern languages and history, and aimed to co-ordinate with similar high school courses, formed another break, which was emphasized by a modification and revision of the other courses and a change from the Latin and Scientific to the Latin course. Almost half the work required for a degree now became elective. This action was far-reaching in its effect; not only was there an immediate increase of almost twenty percent in the number of students, but due to it, curiously enough, can be traced the subsequent rise of a true graduate school. The principle of general election of studies was gradually extended until the required work was decreased to certain introductory courses in Latin, Greek, modern languages, rhetoric, history, mathematics, and sciences, according to the special fields chosen by the student. The special degrees of B.S., Ph.B., and B.L. were abolished in 1900 and all graduates of the Literary Department were granted a degree of A.B. after that time, though the B.S. was later restored. Of late there has been a reaction toward more formal programs of study, with an increased emphasis on certain introductory work which must be observed in planning the course necessary for a degree. But the great latitude left to the student in the choice of his work still remains.

The growth of the Graduate School should also be noted, for upon this the standing of the University as a center of learning must eventually rest. In spite of Dr. Tappan's[115] efforts to introduce "university" courses, Michigan was long a college rather than a university, so much so that President Haven discouraged the use of the word "undergraduate" when "graduate" students were almost non-existent; while the opportunities offered them, except possibly in astronomy and chemistry, where the facilities were unusual for that period, were only those of a high grade college curriculum. But the leaven was working, in two particulars especially; the seminar method of teaching and the development of the elective system. The first seminar was held by Professor Charles Kendall Adams in 1871 in some of his courses in history. He was followed a little later by Professor Moses Coit Tyler in English Literature, and in time by most of the other departments. This, with the corresponding laboratory methods in the teaching of the sciences, had a profound influence on the growth of scholarly ideals in the University. Michigan was in all probability the first American institution to naturalize these products of Continental universities. The broadening of the course in 1877-78, with its great increase in electives, enabled the members of the Faculty to increase the scope of their work and to expand their courses. As an immediate answer there came an ever increasing demand for true graduate work, not only from graduates of the University, but from those of other institutions as well. This movement grew so rapidly that the number of advanced students enrolled increased from four in 1870 to 56 in 1892, when a Graduate School was formally organized in connection with the Literary Department. This was expanded some twenty-five years later into an entirely separate Department, or School, following the revised nomenclature of 1910, of which Professor Karl Eugen Guthe, Marburg, Ph.D., '89, of the Department of Physics,[116] became the first Dean. Upon his death in the summer of 1915 he was succeeded by Professor Alfred H. Lloyd, Harvard, '86, of the Department of Philosophy.

Thus graduate work in the University came into its own. At last the ideals of President Tappan, who admitted the first graduate student in 1856, were in some measure at least realized; though the real results of his labors did not show for many years after he left.

Throughout all the early period the general attitude towards advanced work was decidedly haphazard and casual; the degree of Doctor of Philosophy was not given until 1876, when Dr. Victor C. Vaughan, the present Dean of the Medical School, was one of the first recipients; while the Ph.D. as well as the M.D. were sometimes given as honorary degrees. This attitude toward graduate study, however, was by no means confined to Michigan, for the systematic regulation of advanced courses has been comparatively a recent development in all American universities.

The first organization of the School under a Graduate Council within the Literary Department, was therefore a great step in advance, however anomalous its position,—a graduate school practically controlled by an undergraduate faculty,—though there were, it is true, certain representatives of the professional departments on the Council. Nevertheless the work grew rapidly after this time. Not only was there a steadily increasing enrolment, but there was a distinct increase in the number of advanced courses, as well as in the time given by teachers to graduate instruction and to research work, which greatly strengthened the prestige of the University as a center of higher education.

The final establishment of the School as a separate division of the University naturally gave a decided impetus to this[117] development. A suite of offices was set apart for the administrative force; special encouragement was given to the publication of the results of their work by members of the Faculty, particularly through such agencies as the University Humanistic Series, and similar series in other fields, while fifteen University fellowships were also established, as well as the State College Fellowships mentioned above. In addition a number of fellowships have been privately established by individuals and corporations, ranging from the classics to paper-making. During the last few years there have been in all between thirty-five and forty-five fellowships ordinarily available. The enrolment in the School reached 570 in 1916. There was naturally a falling off during the war, though by the year 1919-20 the enrolment had once more reached 509. Of this number 227 were registered in the summer session, 173 were women and 195 were graduates of other institutions than Michigan.

The history of the University Library has been closely associated, as is only natural, with the growth of the Literary College, and it is proper to include a word about the Library in this place. The appointment of the first Librarian in 1837 did not make a library, and for many years the fine but small collection of books gathered in Europe by Professor Gray was housed in different places about the Campus and was used only as a circulating library—open for one hour each week for the use of the professors and students. However a note in the library regulations to the effect that: "The present instructors are of opinion that there are very few of the books in the library which would be useful to students," seems to limit even this function of the little collection. All this was changed in 1856 when the whole North Wing was set apart as a Museum and Library. Here for the[118] first time, the books were properly shelved and arrangements made for their daily use in an adequate reading-room under the charge of Dr. Tappan's son, John L. Tappan, who took charge as the first real Librarian. He arranged the books scientifically and began the first card catalogue.

Almost at once the Library sprang into a new place in University life. Not only did President Tappan make the Library one of his first interests, but the Regents came to realize the desirability of regular support. This inaugurated a period of ever-increasing growth, which has placed the Library well to the front among American college libraries. Progress at first was rather slow, only about 800 volumes were added each year up to 1877, when the Librarian reported that there were almost 24,000 volumes in the collection. Not very large even then; but the rate increased from that time, rapidly, and at the present time the Library numbers some 430,000 volumes including the departmental collections.

In 1877 the Legislature was brought to see the imperative need of an adequate library and made a special appropriation of $5,000, which was renewed every two years, and even gradually increased, until in 1891 the amount appropriated was $15,000, with a grand total over a period of fifteen years of $79,000. These biennial appropriations ended in 1893 with the increase of the mill-tax from one-twentieth to one-sixth of a mill. This enabled the Regents to double the income of the Library, making it $15,000 annually. The income increased gradually until the library budget of 1920 was over $150,000, of which $50,000 represents the approximate cost of books; the balance being spent for the salaries of the large staff which is necessitated by a library of this size.

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Upon the completion of the first Law Building in 1863 the Library was given new and better quarters where it remained until the old Library was completed in 1883. This was at the time considered the last word in a college library and was dedicated with special exercises at which an address was given by Dr. Justin Winsor, Librarian of Harvard University. For thirty-five years this building, situated at the center of the Campus, with its picturesque twin towers rising above the ivy-covered apse, served the University well. Here was not only the center of academic life, but from one of the towers the Campus clock chimed the hours and quarters for the convenience of the students. In the end, however, the old building proved inadequate and unsafe for the valuable collections it housed, in spite of an increase in stack capacity in 1899. The building was therefore finally removed to make way for the new Library, completed in 1919, which, through its perfect adaptation to the purposes for which it is designed, is considered the most conveniently appointed and successful college library in the country. The building will accommodate over one million volumes and there are definite plans for future extension which will house over three-quarters of a million in addition. The stack wing of the old Library was incorporated in the building, permitting the gradual erection of the new structure in such a manner that the use of the books was not interfered with at any time. The new Library was formally opened on January 7, 1920, with an address by Mr. R.R. Bowker, the editor of The Library Journal, as the principal feature of the programme. The building cost, completed and furnished, $615,000, of which amount the sum of $550,000 was especially appropriated by the State Legislature.

After the resignation of the first Librarian, the Rev.[120] Henry Colclazer, in 1845, the charge of the Library was passed around from one member of the Faculty to another until the appointment of John L. Tappan in 1856, nominally the eighth, though in reality the first Librarian. He was followed by Datus Chase Brooks, who held the position one year, when the Rev. Andrew Ten Brook, who had once before held the title during the year 1850-51, returned to the University as Librarian in 1864. Not only were the affairs of the Library well cared for during his administration, but he also found time to write his "History of State Universities," which gives the only adequate picture we have of the beginnings of the University, by one who shared their trials and triumphs. Upon his resignation in 1877 Raymond Cazallis Davis, '55-'57, A.M. (hon.) '81, succeeded him, contributing greatly during the twenty-eight years of his administration towards the establishment of the Library on its present effective basis. In this effort he was supported by the advice and co-operation of Professor Isaac N. Demmon, who was for thirty-seven years a member of the Library Committee. Theodore Wesley Koch, Harvard, '93, became Librarian in 1905, coming from the Library of Congress in Washington. It was his main effort to popularize the use of the Library among the students and Faculties, through making the reading-rooms more attractive and the books more accessible. The Library of Congress was again called upon for his successor after he resigned in 1915, when the present Librarian, William Warner Bishop, '92, came in time to give his experience and administrative ability to the planning and construction of the new Library Building. To him in no small measure is due its acknowledged success as a working library which has won the praise of all practical librarians throughout the country.

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CHAPTER VII

THE PROFESSIONAL SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES

The first steps toward the establishment of a Faculty of Medicine and Surgery were taken in 1847. The Medical Building was not completed, however, until two years later, and the formal opening of the new Department did not take place until October 1, 1850. On this occasion Abram Sager, the first President, or Dean of the Faculty, as we should now call him, delivered an address to ninety matriculates, at a time when there were only sixty-four students all told in the Literary Department. The period was propitious for the installation of a strong school, for although there were a few struggling medical institutions in the West, the vigorous growth of the new Department showed how inadequately this part of the country was served in medical education. The entrance requirements were simple; a fair high school education, with Latin and Greek sufficient for the understanding of medical terms. For graduation, at least three years' study with a reputable physician was required; but this might include the two six-month courses of lectures which comprised the work of the Department. Even this very slender medical preparation was not required of college graduates, or of students who had already practised medicine four years, for whom one course was deemed sufficient. A thesis was also necessary for graduation, and tradition has it that in a few cases during the earlier days of the Department, they were actually written and delivered in Latin. Special attention was given to laboratory work in chemistry[122] and anatomy, though for the most part the training was given through lectures and quizzes. The conservatism of the Literary Department in educational methods here also found its parallel, even in the comparatively new sciences.

The introduction of clinical methods came slowly, though the growing city of Ann Arbor furnished many opportunities for actual diagnosis and treatment. The lack of practical facilities for study was early recognized, however, and within a few years some of the members of the Medical Faculty established a school for clinical instruction in Detroit, which eventually led to the first effort for the removal of the school mentioned in the last chapter. In spite of this difficulty the Department grew so rapidly that within ten years it had an enrolment of 242 matriculates and 43 graduates; more students than were enrolled at Yale, Harvard, or Virginia, the leading medical schools of that day. The growth came so rapidly, in fact, that it proved embarrassing and the Regents experienced great difficulty in finding accommodations for the students. In 1864 an addition was made to the original Medical Building which more than doubled its capacity and in 1868 one of the professors' houses on the north side of the Campus was fitted up as the first University Hospital. By 1874 Latin and Greek had been dropped from the requirements for admission; a possible backward step which was more than counterbalanced three years later by the extension of the annual course of lectures to nine months. Finally in 1880 an extra year was added to the course.

The long roster of the Medical Faculty has included many distinguished names, of which but a few can be mentioned, and none with the detail their services to their profession and to science deserve. The first Faculty consisted of the[123] two recruits from the Literary Department, Dr. Sager, who became Professor of Obstetrics and Diseases of Women and Children, and Dr. Douglas, who assumed the chair of Chemistry, Pharmacy, and Medical Jurisprudence in the new school; as well as four other members, Moses Gunn, who was a graduate of Geneva Medical College, 1846, Professor of Anatomy and Surgery; Samuel Denton, Castleton Medical College (Vermont), '25, a former Regent, who became Professor of the Theory and Practice of Medicine and Pathology; J. Adams Allen, Middlebury, '45, Professor of Therapeutics, Materia Medica, and Physiology; and R.C. Kedzie, '51m, demonstrator of anatomy, who later was for nearly forty years Professor of Chemistry at the Michigan Agricultural College.

Dr. Sager, the first Dean of the Department, was one of its most learned and versatile members; so thoroughly possessed of the scientific spirit that his abilities were not always appreciated by his students, or, it must be confessed, by his colleagues. Of his ability as a practitioner "a few of the older residents of Ann Arbor speak reverently and lovingly." Dr. Gunn, who had charge of the Anatomical Laboratory, the first laboratory to be established in the University, deserves, in the opinion of Dr. Vaughan, the present Dean of the School, to be called the founder of the Department. This honor, however, might properly be divided with Dr. Zina Pitcher of Detroit, who, as a member of the first Board of Regents, was responsible for the early introduction of the teaching of medicine in the University. But Dr. Gunn was on the ground as early as 1849, and from the first he labored earnestly and effectively in the organization of the new Department, which was beset by many difficulties, particularly in his own field, where the problem of finding adequate[124] material for the study of anatomy was almost insuperable for many years. Many are the hints given in the reminiscences of the older men of the practical ways this difficulty was met, but for the most part the matter is shrouded in a discreet silence. Dr. Gunn was of a commanding character and presence and his "trained hand dared to do many operations, the landmarks of which were not then described in the works on surgery." He soon gave up his work in Anatomy and was succeeded in 1854 by Dr. Corydon La Ford, Geneva, '42, a sensitive and earnest teacher, who had a way of "making dry bones and anatomical tissues of absorbing interest." It is said of him that in his day he probably taught more students than any other teacher of anatomy. Occupying hardly a lesser place than Dr. Ford in the memories of the older medical graduates was his factotum, Gregor Nagele, better known as "Doc" Nagele. As an immigrant just landed, he helped in the construction of the old Medical Building and remained to become for years the presiding genius of the Department, and, through his long association with Dr. Ford, an unofficial demonstrator of anatomy to the "boys."

Dr. Denton, another member of that first Faculty, was long remembered by his students because of his high hat and his buck-board wagon, as well as by his belief in the medical efficiency of alcohol; in which he came into violent conflict with one of his confrères and eventual successor in the Professorship of Pathology and Theory and Practice. This was Dr. A.B. Palmer, a graduate of the College of Physicians and Surgeons in 1839, who in 1854 succeeded Dr. Allen, the first of the original Faculty to go. Dr. Palmer was a conspicuous personage in Ann Arbor for many years, energetic in public welfare and a lover not only of his profession[125] but of his professorship and its duties. One of his students remarks: "He would have been willing to get up in the night and lecture if asked, so enthusiastic was he in his efforts to help the student." He was the first member of the Medical Faculty to apply for leave of absence that he might study abroad. That was in 1858.

Other appointments of particular importance in the earlier years of the Medical Department were those of Samuel G. Armor, Missouri Medical College, '44, who became Professor of the Institutes of Medicine and Materia Medica in 1861, and of Albert Benjamin Prescott, '64m, who entered the same year upon his long term of distinguished service in the Chemical Laboratory and later the Department of Pharmacy, loved and honored by many generations of students. Changes in the personnel of the Faculty were frequent, however, and few men remained long enough to identify their lives wholly with that of the University. When Dr. Sager retired as Emeritus Professor and Dean in 1874, Dr. Edward S. Dunster, New York College of Medicine and Surgery, '59, was appointed to his chair, and held it until his death in 1888. Dr. Palmer succeeded Dr. Sager as Dean, but in 1887, the position passed to Dr. Ford, and then, in 1891, to Dr. Victor C. Vaughan, Mt. Pleasant (Mo.) College, '72; M.D. (Michigan), '78, the first graduate of the School to become its Dean. He has been a member of the Faculty since 1879, serving as Professor of Physiology and Pathological Chemistry and Assistant Professor of Therapeutics and Materia Medica.

As the growth of the School continued and as the field of medical knowledge widened, new laboratories and professorships were continually becoming necessary. The early history of the Anatomical Laboratory has been touched upon.[126] Dr. Ford remained in charge until 1894, when he was succeeded by Dr. J. Playfair McMurrich, Toronto, '79, who did much for the advancement of the scientific study of anatomy until his return to Toronto in 1907, when George Linius Streeter, Union, '95, assumed the chair. He resigned in 1914, and Dr. G. Carl Huber, '87m, Professor of Histology then became Director of the Anatomical Laboratories. Mention should also be made in this place of the services of Dr. George E. Fothingham, '64m, Professor of Ophthalmology from 1870 to 1889, who for some years was connected with the Department of Anatomy and drafted the first good anatomical law.

Courses in histology were given as far back as 1856 but the emphasis on scientific methods did not come for many years, and the courses in both histology and physiology were long taught solely by lectures. In 1877, however, the Legislature appropriated $3,500 for a laboratory in those subjects and Dr. C.H. Stowell, '72m, was appointed instructor, becoming Assistant Professor in 1880. About the same time a separate chair in physiology was created with Dr. Henry Sewall, Wesleyan, '76, as the first Professor. Under Dr. Sewall the Physiological Laboratory grew rapidly; new apparatus was purchased and many valuable researches were conducted, not the least of these being the proof, published in 1887, that pigeons might be immunized against rattle-snake poison,—one of the first cases of the production of an artificial immunity. The two departments were again united in 1889 under Dr. William H. Howell, Johns Hopkins, '81. He was succeeded in 1892 by Dr. Warren P. Lombard, Harvard, '78, who held both Professorships until 1898, when Dr. Huber, at that time Assistant Professor of Anatomy, was made Director of the Histological Laboratory, becoming[127] Junior Professor in 1899 and Professor of Histology and Embryology four years later.

A Laboratory in Electro-Therapeutics was opened in 1878, the first of its kind in America, largely through the efforts of Dr. John W. Langley, Harvard, '61, M.D. Michigan, (hon.) '77, Professor of General Chemistry at that time; but the subject did not become a compulsory part of the course until the appointment in 1890 of Dr. William J. Herdman, '72, who had been a member of the Medical Faculty since 1875, as Professor of Nervous Diseases and Electro-Therapeutics. Practical instruction in pathology was inaugurated in 1879 under Dr. Herdman and Dr. Victor C. Vaughan, but the beginnings were modest and laboratory work only became incorporated in the course in 1888 under Dr. Heneage Gibbes, Aberdeen, '79, called from London as Professor of Pathology. Even then the quarters were extremely limited and the laboratory was moved several times before its final establishment in the present Medical Building in 1903. In 1895 Dr. George Dock, Pennsylvania, '84, Professor of the Theory and Practice of Medicine and Clinical Medicine since 1891, succeeded Dr. Gibbes in the chair of Pathology but resigned it in 1903 to Dr. Aldred Scott Warthin, '91m, (Indiana, '88), who became also Director of the Pathological Laboratory.

A request from the State Board of Health led to the opening of a Hygienic Laboratory in 1888, with the threefold object of instruction, research, and the examination of suspected food and water, with Dr. V.C. Vaughan, who had come to the University in 1875 as an assistant in the Chemical Laboratory, as its first Director.

The first officially recognized Laboratory of Clinical Medicine was established by Dr. Dock, when he came to the[128] University in 1891, with the purpose of carrying out the instrumental investigation of disease, and teaching the technique of diagnosis. This was followed the next year by demonstration courses in the different branches of medicine and surgery. Dr. Dock was succeeded, upon his resignation in 1908, by Dr. A. Walter Hewlett, California, '95, who returned to Leland Stanford, Jr. University after six years' service.

A Surgical Laboratory, established soon after Dr. Charles de Nancrède, Pennsylvania (M.D.), '69, came as Professor of Surgery, speedily proved its educational value, and increasing facilities were offered students for the demonstration of surgery on bodies and on animals, with the same care taken as to antiseptics, asepsis, and dressings as in actual operations. Dr. de Nancrède retired in 1917, and in 1919 Dr. Hugh Cabot, Harvard, '94, succeeded to the chair. A Laboratory in Experimental Pharmacology, still another instance of a brand new venture on the University's part, was established in 1891 under Dr. John Jacob Abel, '83. He only remained two years, however, and was succeeded by Dr. Arthur R. Cushny, Aberdeen, '86, of London, under whom the new laboratory assumed its present important place. Dr. Cushny returned to the University College in London in 1905 and the Professorship of Pharmacology eventually passed to Dr. Charles W. Edmunds, '01m, at present Secretary of the Medical School. As the result of long effort on the part of Dr. Herdman, who held the chair of Nervous Diseases, a State Psychopathic Hospital, the first of its kind in the country, was established at the University in 1903 under the joint supervision of the Regents and a State Board, affording a practical laboratory and clinic for students specializing in nervous diseases. It has[129] been under the direction of Dr. Albert M. Barrett, Iowa, '93, Professor of Psychiatry since 1906.

The old make-shift hospital on the Campus was enlarged in 1876, but it was never able to overtake the ever-increasing demand, and a new building eventually became imperative. This came in 1891, when the present Hospital, soon fated to go the way of the first, was erected northeast of the Campus on the hills above the Huron River. Designed to accommodate about eighty patients, it has been enlarged again and again, until finally in 1919 the State appropriated over a million dollars for an entirely new building, which will cost eventually three times that sum, to be completed in 1922. Not only will this new Hospital accommodate nearly six hundred patients under the far more exacting requirements of modern hospital practice, but it will also be by far the largest hospital controlled entirely by a medical school and maintained for the sole benefit of the people of a state.

The medical course was finally increased in 1890 to four years of nine months, while the entrance requirements were placed on the same basis as the admission to the classical or scientific courses in the Literary Department. At the same time a "combination" course enabled the student to graduate from both the Literary Department and the Medical School in six years. The final evolution of the curriculum up to the present time came in 1914 when this combination was made compulsory. This meant that at least two years' preliminary work in the Literary College was required before the student was permitted to enter the Medical School. In 1903 a new Medical Building was completed at a cost of about $200,000, to provide the class rooms and laboratories for the work of the first two years. It contains two[130] amphitheaters, two lecture rooms, and the laboratories of hygiene, bacteriology, physiological chemistry, anatomy, histology and embryology and pathology, as well as the pathological museum. To the great regret of many medical alumni, and in fact all who loved the relics of the University's first days, the picturesque old Medical Building with its simple Greek portico was razed in 1914. It had been considered unsafe for some time, and stood abandoned and unused at one side of the new building.

Although the original University Act called for a Law Department, and even gave it first place in their scheme for organization after the Literary College, the favorable time for its establishment did not appear for nearly twenty years. There were already a number of law schools in operation elsewhere, one of them at the University of Pennsylvania dated as far back as 1790; but for the most part legal education was haphazard and primitive. Candidates for the bar ordinarily prepared for practice by reading in a lawyer's office, a good old method that perhaps has some merits, but one which did not, save in the case of a teacher of exceptional qualifications, give a uniform preparation or an insight into the principles of legal philosophy. As the general level of education advanced, however, the advantages of some systematic instruction in law became more and more apparent, and it was not long after the establishment of the University before demands for a Law School began to be heard. This sentiment grew, in spite of the conservatism, and even active opposition, of the lawyers of the old school who believed the established office method of education the only practical one.

Finally, in spite of the financial problem involved, the new Department was formally opened in October, 1859, with an[131] entering class of ninety-two students. It had long been assumed that only one Professorship would be required; but when the Board really faced the problem it had a wider vision, and the first Faculty consisted of three men. These have sometimes been called "the great triumvirate," Judge James V. Campbell, St. Paul's College, '41, of the State Supreme Court, who became Marshall Professor of Law, with Common and Statute Law as his field; Charles I. Walker, a practising lawyer of Detroit, Kent Professor of Pleading, Practice and Evidence; and Thomas McIntyre Cooley of Adrian, who came as Jay Professor of Equity Jurisprudence, Pleading, and Practice. These men had all been trained through the usual course of "reading" in a lawyer's office—all the higher education they received, with the exception of Judge Campbell.

Never has a law school started under more favorable auspices, certainly never with such a Faculty. To the learning and personal character, as well as to the ability as teachers, of these three men thousands of graduates of the School ascribe their remarkable success in later life. Judge Campbell, the first Dean, was characterized by his wide, accurate, and scholarly knowledge; while the refinement of his literary style and his stimulating personality made him one of the most delightful of lecturers. Professor Walker was the type of man who was willing to sacrifice one day a week out of a large and remunerative practice for the education of young men in his profession. His interests extended beyond his legal labors, for he was well known through his scholarly investigations in the early history of the State. His courses, which might so easily have been perfunctory, were on a par with those of his distinguished confrères, stimulating and profound and sometimes punctuated[132] with a dry wit, well illustrated by his epigram that "some men live by their practice and some by their practices."

Thomas M. Cooley, the youngest one of this group and the only one to make his home in Ann Arbor, probably, in his later years, gave more distinction to the University than any other teacher upon its long rolls. He became known, not only nationally but internationally, for his great work on "Constitutional Limitations" which will probably always be the standard work on the American Constitution. This appeared in 1868. He was also the author of many other books, including a "History of Michigan." During his service of twenty-one years on the State Supreme Bench, the Court acquired a national reputation. At the time of his death he was a member of the first Interstate Commerce Commission. His home, which stood on the site the Union now occupies, and which for nine years was used as the Union Club House, was long a center of the intellectual and social life of Ann Arbor. One of his pupils, William R. Day, '70, now of the United States Supreme Court, says of him: "Here was a man of world-wide fame as a jurist—the author of a book which is at once the greatest authority upon the subject of constitutional limitations upon our government, and a classic in legal literature—whose recreations seemed to consist in change of occupation, and whose energies seemed never to tire."

The enrolment in the new school grew with even greater rapidity than had that of the Medical School during its first years. By 1911 the Law School, as it came to be known after 1910, had given 9,041 degrees, almost equaling the 9,225 granted up to that time by the Literary College and more than double the 4,260 degrees granted by the Medical School. The balance of attendance, however, has been with[133] the Literary College since 1897, when the requirement in the Law School was increased to three years. It must be understood, too, that any comparison of this character between the Law and the Literary Departments can only be on a quantitative basis, for the traditional four years' work had always been demanded in the Literary College; whereas in early days, the law course consisted only of two terms of lectures of six months each, with only one requisite for admission; that the candidates should be eighteen years of age and of good moral character. Nevertheless these early students stood well in respect to ability, some "were already practising lawyers, and others were on the verge of being admitted to the bar"; men who came to take advantage of the lectures before entering definitely upon practice. Only seniors were quizzed, but they were quizzed on junior as well as senior subjects, while at the end an oral examination was given. If this ordeal was passed satisfactorily and an acceptable thesis presented, the candidate received his LL.B.

Professor Hinsdale in his "History," in speaking of these earlier years, said: "A feebler organization and a looser administration could hardly have held the School together. Indeed, if the mark of a school is to be found in organization and administration, then this was hardly a school at all; but if such mark is to be found in the ability of teachers, the value of the instruction given, and the enthusiasm of students, it was a school of high order. In a word, it was the Professors and the conditions, not organization, administration, and discipline, that made the School what it was."

Since 1877, when it was announced that students henceforth were expected to be well grounded in at least a good English education, the requirements in the Law School have[134] been gradually raised; in fact one may almost trace the reflection of the increasing requirements in the fluctuating attendance. Following a requirement that an examination in ordinary high school branches must be passed by all students except those who had completed a high school course, the standard of admission was made in 1898 the same as for the admission to the old B.L. course in the Literary Department. In 1884 the two annual terms which had heretofore made up the course were lengthened from six to nine months; and in 1886 a graduated course of instruction was introduced, resulting in the separation of the two classes which, up to that time, had always recited together. In 1895, after due notice, a third year was added.

The last and perhaps most far-reaching steps in the history of the Law School were taken in 1912, when one year in the Literary College was required, and in 1915, when another year was added, making the law course one of five years. Other significant advances have also been made of late years; the establishment of the special degree of J.D. (Juris Doctor) for exceptional students, and particularly the addition of an optional sixth year of special studies for those who wished to carry their work further, leading to the degree of Master of Laws.

With these changes in the requirements has come also a revolution in methods of teaching and even in the fundamental policies of the School. There are three methods ordinarily applied in teaching law; the lecture, the textbook, and the study of selected cases. The early courses were almost entirely lectures, textbooks not appearing until 1879, while the study of cases, used somewhat even at the very first, has now become the principal method of establishing legal principles. The question is largely one of the aim of[135] a school, whether to make the student familiar with the actual rules and practice in the different parts of the country so that he will be able to take up his profession, if only in a limited way, at once; or whether to emphasize fundamental principles and the evolutionary character of the law, which can best be discovered from the study of decisions and cases, in order to prepare for the far more significant and useful career open to one who has the background, as well as the ordinary rules of law, upon which to base his actions. President Hutchins, when Dean of the Law School, emphasized this when he said: "The Law School of today should teach and should encourage the study of law in its larger sense." This policy has been consistently developed by the present Dean, Henry M. Bates, '90, who not only insists on the higher mission of the Law School in this regard but also believes it "must not only train men to be effective lawyers adhering steadfastly to high ethical standards, but it must also instil into them a strong sense of responsibility to the community, and those ideals of service which are among the oldest and finest but, perhaps, sometimes forgotten traditions of the bar."

The Faculty of the Law School has always remained relatively small in proportion to the numbers of students—largely because of the methods of teaching, and the absence, inherent in the subject, of any laboratory save the practice court. A fourth professorship was created in 1866 and named after the Hon. Richard Fletcher of Boston, who had given his legal library to the University. This was occupied in 1868 by Charles A. Kent, Vermont, '52, who was Dean of the Department at the time of his resignation in 1886. The Fletcher Professorship has been held since 1897 by Judge Victor H. Lane, '74e, '78l. A Tappan Professor[136]ship was established in 1879, an honor acknowledged with great pleasure by the first President, then living in Switzerland, and was held for four years by the Hon. Alpheus Felch, Bowdoin, '27, one of the most distinguished citizens of the State, who had served as United States Senator, Governor, and Regent. The Professorship passed eventually to Henry Wade Rogers, '74, afterward Dean of the Yale Law School, and in 1903 to Henry M. Bates, '90. Mr. Walker resigned in 1876 and Judge Cooley in 1884, though the latter continued to give lectures on special subjects and remained on the Faculty as Professor of American History and Constitutional Law. Judge Campbell became the first Dean of the Department but resigned in 1871, when he was succeeded by Judge Cooley. After the latter gave up his active duties Charles A. Kent became Dean, to be followed by Henry Wade Rogers, '74, in 1885; Jerome C. Knowlton, '75, in 1890; and Harry Burns Hutchins, '71, in 1895. The present Dean, Henry M. Bates, '90, succeeded Dr. Hutchins when he was elected to the Presidency of the University in 1910.

The Law Library, which contains over 40,000 volumes, is the largest of the departmental collections. In addition to Judge Fletcher's early gift of eight hundred volumes, two other considerable gifts have added to its resources, the Buhl Collection, presented by Mr. C.H. Buhl of Detroit in 1885, with a fund of $10,000 for additions to it, and the library presented by Judge S.T. Douglas of Detroit in 1898. The Library now occupies a large room at the south end of the second floor of the present Law Building.

The first courses of the Law School were given in the old chapel in the North Wing, or Mason Hall, where the Law Library was installed with the General Library above. This[137] proved a most unsatisfactory arrangement for the growing school and in 1863 a new Law Building was dedicated on the northwest corner of the Campus. This building in turn quickly became inadequate for the needs of the still rapidly expanding department. Some relief was given in 1872 by using the Chapel in the new University Hall, and again in 1882, when the University Library which had been housed up to this time in the Law Building was moved to its new quarters. The Law Building was remodeled and enlarged in 1893 and a second time in 1898, when it was almost completely made over into its present form.

The College of Engineering, the fourth of the larger divisions of the University, was in fact the last to be established, as it was not until 1895 that the Regents authorized its organization as an independent department with Professor Charles E. Greene, Harvard, '62, as its first Dean.

The history of the course in engineering, however, is almost as old as the University, and really begins with the designation of a chair in Civil Engineering and Drawing in the article authorizing the University. That was as far as the matter went, however, for the first fifteen years, or until the appointment of Alexander Winchell in 1853 as Professor of Physics and Civil Engineering. Physics is the science upon which the profession of the civil engineer rests and the two subjects were closely associated in those days of small beginnings. There is little to indicate that Professor Winchell or his successor to the chair in 1855, William G. Peck, West Point, '44, did much to advance the engineering half of their charge. But with the coming of DeVolson Wood as Assistant Professor, immediately upon his graduation in 1857 from Rensselaer Polytechnic, the cause of engineering was properly presented to the students. Though[138] the fourth institution in this country to offer courses in engineering, the first two students were not graduated until 1860, so that actually Michigan became the sixth institution in America to grant degrees in that branch of scientific training.

Professor Charles S. Denison, whose long service in the University began as an instructor just before Professor Wood's resignation, pays a tribute to his sturdy and at the same time genial character, his powerful intellect, and singularly virile influence on his students. He showed remarkable energy and administrative ability, in spite of many difficulties and a general lack of understanding of his aims in technical education, characteristic of those days. It is told of him that he even recommended an adaptation of one of the professors' houses on the Campus to the needs of the work in engineering, exactly thirty years before it was actually done. While he was here a course in military engineering was organized in 1862 and he delivered a course of lectures on that subject, but after the war it was abandoned. A similar fate overtook the School of Mines established in 1864-65, owing to the desire of the residents of the Northern Peninsula to have a state institution in that section, although a number of degrees in mining engineering were granted. A course in mechanical engineering was also authorized by the Regents in 1868, one of the very first to be organized in this country, but the degree was abolished two years later and the course was merged with civil engineering. One of the last acts of Professor Wood, before his resignation to accept a similar chair at Stevens Institute of Technology, was to present to the Regents a detailed plan for a School of Engineering and Technology as a fourth department of the University—foreshadowing the action taken twenty-[139]three years later when engineering was made a separate department in the University.

The appointment of Charles Ezra Greene, Harvard, '62, Mass. Inst. Technology, '68, in 1872 marks a definite period in the history of this department. He found himself associated with two other men who had been instructors for a short period under Professor Wood, J.B. Davis, '68e, Assistant Professor of Civil Engineering, who became Professor of Geodesy and Surveying in 1891, and Charles S. Denison, Vermont, '70, who was to be in later years Professor of Stereotomy, Mechanism, and Drawing. These men saw the Department grow almost to its present proportions, and, as the first Faculty, formed a most harmonious combination of unusually varied elements. Professor Greene was a scholar and scientist who had a wide reputation as an engineer and an author; Professor Davis, on the contrary, was a practical man, a genius, whose love of the outdoors and fatherly care of his "boys" even extended to their "rubbers" on wet days, while his homely and wise sayings endeared him to every student. Professor Denison was a bachelor, small and very particular in personal appearance, who was long known by the students as "Little Lord Chesterfield," but an able teacher who was loved for his big heart and his very mannerisms. A course in mechanical engineering was again inaugurated in 1881 when Mortimer E. Cooley, Annapolis, '78, Assistant Engineer, U.S.N., was detailed to the University by the Navy Department and became the first Professor of Mechanical Engineering. In 1885 he resigned from the Navy and definitely cast his lot with the University, becoming Dean of the College of Engineering in February, 1904, after the death of Professor Greene in October, 1903. At the same time Pro[140]fessor Davis became Associate Dean and maintained an intimate and paternal care over the students until his retirement in 1910.

The Department of Electrical Engineering was organized in 1889, under the charge of Henry S. Carhart, Wesleyan, '69, Professor of Physics, and one instructor, George W. Patterson, Yale, '84, who became the first Professor of Electrical Engineering in May, 1905. In 1899 a course in Naval Architecture and Marine Engineering was created with Herbert C. Sadler, Glasgow, '93, as the first Professor. The following year the first degree was conferred in a new Department of Chemical Engineering, and in 1902 Edward DeMille Campbell, '86, became head of the new division as Professor of Chemical Engineering and Analytical Chemistry.

The first plan for the University called for a Professorship of Engineering and Architecture, but no attention was paid to the latter subject until the appointment of W.L.B. Jenney, to the Professorship of Architecture in 1876. Appropriations failed, however, and the chair was discontinued in 1880, not to be revived until 1906, when a Department of Architecture was organized under the charge of Emil Lorch, A.M., Harvard, '03, with the two departments associated under the title of the Department (later Colleges) of Engineering and Architecture. Within recent years special courses have been organized leading to degrees in Architectural Engineering, Chemical Engineering, and Aeronautical Engineering, as well as special groups of courses in such branches as sanitary, transportation, automobile, hydro-mechanical, industrial, and gas engineering and paper manufacturing. A reorganization of the numerous degrees given at one time in the Engineering College has[141] now reduced the degrees to two, B.S. in Engineering and B.S. in Architecture.

Originally the work in engineering was centered in what is now the old south wing of University Hall. The first building on the Campus used exclusively for the engineering courses was the first section of the Engineering Laboratories built in 1881-82, as the result of the insistence of Dr. Frieze, then Acting President, that an unexpended appropriation of $2,500 be used immediately. At short intervals further additions were made and in 1900 the building, now known as the Engineering Shops, assumed its present form. In 1895 a further extension of the work in engineering was required, and the adjacent campus residence was remodeled for the purpose. This proved inadequate almost before completion and in 1902 the construction of the present Engineering Building was authorized. Standing across the southeast corner of the Campus and with the diagonal walk carried through it under a picturesque archway, this is one of the University's largest buildings and forms, with its two wings, and the Engineering Shops and the old Heating Plant, a square known as the Engineering Quadrangle. It was completed in 1904, but a further addition was necessitated in 1909, so that it now has a floor space of about 136,000 square feet, and cost with equipment about $400,000. In the basement of the long wing which extends down East University Avenue is the naval experimental tank, 300 feet long and 22 feet wide, in which models of various types of ships are tested by the Department of Marine Engineering. The only other tank of this character in the United States is at the Washington Navy Yard, and the facilities of the University's tank, therefore, were used extensively by the Government during the late war.[142]

The development of the College of Pharmacy, actually the fourth separate department in the University, is closely interwoven with that of the Department of Chemistry. Its history has already been in part suggested in the references to the growth of the Chemical Laboratory and the appointment of Dr. Prescott as the first Dean of the Department, or later, College, of Pharmacy. At first the study of chemistry was presented only in lectures and a few simple demonstrations. Dr. Douglas, however, was among the pioneers in this country in realizing that the way to teach the subject was to help the students perform their own experiments, and accordingly he established a small laboratory for special students in the Medical Building. From this grew the idea of a laboratory building which was finally completed in October, 1857, at a cost of $3,450, the first building erected in America for this purpose, with facilities which were, in President Tappan's words, "unsurpassed by anything of the kind in the country." Even then it proved almost at once too small, and a long series of enlargements came at intervals of about five years, until finally the new Chemistry Building was completed in 1910.

All the work in chemistry in the different Departments was, from the first, provided for in this building, with no distinction between academic and professional students except such as the special courses require. The work in pharmacy grew naturally with the Department of Chemistry. Following its establishment in 1868, the course eventually grew into a separate Department, which became independent in 1876. The school prospered under the wise and scholarly administration of its first Dean, Dr. Albert B. Prescott, and it was soon recognized as one of the best in the country. The early entrance requirements were only a good knowledge[143] of the English language, but soon a high school course became requisite. The curriculum, which at first consisted of two years' work, was eventually lengthened to three years in 1917-18, leading to the degree of Ph.C; while for a regular four years' course a B.S. in Pharmacy is granted.

Upon the death of Dr. Prescott in 1905, Dr. Julius O. Schlotterbeck, '91, succeeded him as Dean of the College. Dr. Schlotterbeck died in 1917, and Professor Alviso B. Stevens, '75p, became Dean until his retirement in 1919.

The inauguration of a Department of Homeopathy in the University, which, as has been noted, did not come without a struggle, was finally effected in 1875; though only after long opposition from the Medical Faculty and the regular medical profession throughout the State. The first Faculty, which was appointed soon after the Legislature finally authorized the establishment of the School, was composed of Dr. Samuel A. Jones, Pennsylvania Homeopathic Medical College, '61, of Englewood, N.J., who was Dean and Professor of Materia Medica and Therapeutics, and Dr. John C. Morgan, Pennsylvania Medical College, '52, who took the chair of Theory and Practice. Dr. Jones soon became one of the most interesting and stimulating figures in the life of the University. Small and spare in physique, he possessed an extraordinarily keen mind and an interest in literature and learning far beyond the limits of his profession. His library, which was particularly rich in material on Thoreau and Carlyle, became upon his death in 1912 one of the valuable acquisitions of the University Library.

The Faculty grew slowly as new students came, though the Department never became as large as the older school, the record enrolment being 79 in 1892. The Department eventually found that the original quarters in one of the two pro[144]fessorial residences on the north side of the Campus, to which a long wing had been added at the rear, were inadequate, and in 1900 the present Homeopathic Hospital was erected opposite the northeast corner of the Campus. To this a nurses' home was added later, and in 1918 an adequate children's ward. An effort made in 1893 by Dr. H.L. Obetz, Cleveland Homeopathic Hospital College, '74, at that time Dean, to amalgamate the two schools proved unsuccessful, and eventually led to his resignation and a reorganization that necessitated the resignation of the remainder of the Faculty. A law passed in the same year by the Legislature reversing its previous position and directing that the School be removed to Detroit, was successfully resisted by the Regents on the same ground that had already been urged in the case of the regular school. Dr. E.C. Franklin, M.D., University of New York, '46, followed Dr. Jones as Dean in 1878. Dr. T.P. Wilson, Western Homeopathic College, '57, succeeded him in 1881 and Dr. H.L. Obetz in 1885. After the reorganization in 1895 mentioned above, Dr. Wilbert B. Hinsdale, Hiram College, '75, the present Dean, was appointed, and the later and more untroubled history of the School may be said to date from that time.

Though the incorporation of a Dental College in the University was suggested as far back as 1865, the first steps were not taken until 1873 when the Michigan State Dental Association requested the establishment of a dental course as soon as possible. This was supplemented two years later by a similar petition to the Legislature on the part of a large number of citizens of the State, which led to the appropriation of the sum of $3,000 for each of the next two years for the establishment of a Department of Dentistry in the[145] University. The Regents thereupon took action in 1875, establishing the College, and in addition to the facilities offered by the Medical Department and Chemical Laboratory, created two Professorships in Dentistry. A little later Dr. Jonathan Taft, Ohio College of Dental Surgery, '50, of Cincinnati, was appointed Professor of Principles and Practice of Operative Dentistry and Dr. John A. Watling, Ohio College of Dental Surgery, '60, Professor of Clinical and Mechanical Dentistry. The precedent of long standing in the other professional departments was followed, both in the matter of entrance requirements and the course, which consisted for many years of two terms of six months. This was lengthened, however, in 1884 to nine months and in 1899 a third year was added.

The Dental College first occupied a portion of the Homeopathic Building on the north side of the Campus; later it was removed to one of the old professors' houses on the south side which had been enlarged and fitted up for its reception. Upon the removal of the University Hospital from the Campus in 1891, the building it had occupied, which it may be remembered was an adaptation and extension of one of the residences on the north, became the home of the school. Never well adapted for this purpose and becoming entirely too small with the rapid growth of the College, a new building eventually became necessary. This led to the construction of the present Dental Building, one of the most completely equipped structures for the purpose in the United States. It was dedicated in May, 1909, and cost, with equipment, over $150,000. The department has grown consistently from the first year, when the attendance was twenty students, the lowest in its history, to 353 in 1915-16. Dr. Taft was Dean of the College from[146] 1875 to the time of his death in 1903. Dr. Cyrenus Darling, '81m, of the Medical School then became Acting Dean, resigning active work four years later to be succeeded by Dr. Nelville S. Hoff, Ohio College of Dental Surgery, '76, Professor of Prosthetic Dentistry since 1903, who received the full title in 1911. Upon his resignation in 1918, Dr. Marcus L. Ward, '02d, succeeded to the position.

The Summer Session was first established by the Regents in 1900 as a separate division of the University. Courses in the summer had been given since 1894 under the direction of a committee from the Faculty of Literature, Science, and the Arts, but the Regents had assumed no real responsibility for this work and the fact that the chairman and all the members of the committee, save one, were of the rank of instructor indicates the minor place it assumed in university affairs. With a reorganization in 1900 under the chairmanship of Professor John O. Reed, '85, of the Department of Physics, a new life was given to the School. From that time it grew rapidly, until in the summer of 1919 it had an enrolment of almost 2,000, including students in the Law School, Medical School, Engineering College, and a summer library course, though the majority, of course, were enrolled in the Literary College. When Professor Reed became Dean of the Literary Department in 1907, Professor John R. Effinger, '91, became Dean of the Summer Session. After the death of his predecessor, he in turn became Dean of the Literary College, and Edward H. Kraus, Syracuse, '96, Professor of Mineralogy, who had been Secretary, took his place as administrative head of the Summer Session.

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[147]

CHAPTER VIII

A STATE UNIVERSITY AS A CENTER OF LEARNING

Michigan's position as a state university has been strongly reflected in its ideals and policies. It could not be otherwise. But this relationship, the source of its strength in many aspects, has also carried with it certain dangers. The University has a two-fold function: it must teach the youth of the State and the Nation; but to do this effectively, it must also aim to do its share in enlarging the field of knowledge by encouraging scholarship and research on the part of members of the Faculties as well as by a certain proportion of the more advanced students. It is this latter function that is too easily overlooked in the demand for the ordinary and more "practical" courses which necessarily form so large a part of the modern curriculum. Yet even the most elementary college work cannot be given properly unless the instructor is in touch with the latest developments and discoveries in his own field, and this familiarity only comes through research, on his own part or by his colleagues.

But more than this the University, if it be worthy of the name, owes it to the State to be a leader and a guide in the development of the highest cultural standards; it should be a reservoir upon which the people of the State can draw for truth and guidance in the difficult problems of modern life. This cannot come without a strong emphasis on original and productive scholarship.

It has always been one of the sources of the University's[148] strength that this fact was understood, almost from the first, and that the claims of true scholarship and research have been increasingly recognized. It has been shown that in its first years Michigan was to all intents a replica in the West of the older and conservative colleges of the East; though there was a certain idealism and progressive spirit that tempered even then this recognition of long-established precedent. The West was liberal and disposed to create its own institutions upon a new basis, so that when the new ideals in education began to make themselves felt, about the middle of the nineteenth century, Michigan was ready for them.

With the coming of Dr. Tappan the movement, already foreshadowed by the Legislature in the very terms under which the University was organized, gained a new impetus and effective guidance, and it was not long before a remarkable series of constructive measures in the interest of higher education began. Most of them have been mentioned elsewhere, but it may not be amiss to suggest some of them once more; such as the emphasis on modern science, with the parallel classical and scientific courses within the academic department; the wide range of elections eventually introduced; the early inauguration of professional and graduate schools; the introduction of seminary and laboratory methods; the admission of women; the diploma system of admission from the high schools; and the recognition of the claims of special students.

Until within recent years also, the University had no marking system. The students were merely "passed," "not passed," or "conditioned." This undoubtedly stimulated interest in study and scholarship for its own sake in the case of many students, though, in the absence of any of[149] the usual college honors it encouraged a certain level of mediocrity in others. The change in the system and the introduction of the Phi Beta Kappa Society and similar organizations after 1907 resulted in a marked alteration in the attitude toward study and has undoubtedly raised appreciably the general level of scholarship.

Thus, though the University throughout its whole history necessarily has had to recognize the first claims of the students for instruction, often of a somewhat elementary character, there have always been influences which have kept the ideals of higher scholarship constantly in view. In the older days the idea of research in its modern sense was hardly understood; but as the atmosphere of European learning began to pervade American academic life the double function of a true university came to be more clearly recognized. Not only were facilities for research developed, but the scientific spirit, which refused to accept the limitations long established, and sought new truths, or new interpretations of old principles, became the order of the day.

This was the ideal of Michigan's first President. But in his time the need for less advanced work was too pressing, the foundations had to be laid; though his efforts bore fruit long after he left, the victim in part of his high ideals of scholarship. Even in his time, however, certain steps were taken, aside from his effort to inaugurate true graduate study, which had a vital bearing on the development of research work in the future. These came through the establishment of the Astronomical Observatory and the Chemical Laboratory. Dr. Brünnow, the first Professor of Astronomy, came to Michigan inspired by a prospect of scholarly leadership and the results of his investigations and those of his pupil and successor, Professor Watson, gave to the Univer[150]sity a world-wide reputation among scholars. The same was true, though perhaps to a lesser degree, of the Department of Chemistry, whose little Laboratory, the first separate building for that purpose in America, attracted advanced students from all quarters—the enrolment of special students sometimes reaching seventy, of whom at least some were doing work corresponding to the graduate courses of the present time. The students of this department as a whole have had a profound influence upon the development of the industrial and commercial resources of the State.

With the succession of Dr. Haven to the Presidency, the emphasis was thrown almost entirely on the immediate and practical problems of general instruction. He was not a scholar in the modern sense, as was Dr. Tappan, and the University's first requirement was fairly obvious. But the higher function of the University was not forgotten by the leading men of the Faculty. President Hutchins tells how he was drawn to Michigan in 1867 from his hillside farm home in Vermont by the reputation of Michigan's Faculty. He had become greatly dissatisfied with the educational facilities offered in the East, though he did not know exactly what he wanted to do. Just at this time his father returned from a business trip in the West and reported that he had found the right place for him in the University of Michigan. The young man replied, "Oh, I know about Ann Arbor." The father was somewhat surprised and asked how that happened. "Well," said Michigan's future President, "I have noticed that the editor of the Virgil I study is Professor Frieze, at Ann Arbor, and in Greek there is a Professor Boise; my French textbooks are by Professor Fasquelle; while in mathematics my books are by Professor Olney. It seems to me that must be a pretty good university." So[151] despite dire warning, from his grandmother as to the dangers from the desperadoes of the West, to say nothing of the Indians, he came to Michigan; drawn by the scholarly work of the men of that early Faculty, as were hundreds of other students.

It will of course be suggested that this work on the part of the Faculty was not "research" in the modern sense, though it was just as truly "productive scholarship." And it was what was so regarded in those days. Besides it was evident that the University was amply fulfilling one of its great functions in laying the foundations for the present system of higher education. The teachers of the secondary schools as well as the colleges looked to these strong men for guidance and they found the support they needed. Their books were the necessary basis for the training of future scholars.

The gradual broadening of the University curriculum and its effect upon graduate study has already been mentioned. There was one development, however, which deserves special mention here. This was the inauguration of the so-called "University System." President Tappan had laid down the principle that a student should be able to study "what he pleases, and to any extent he pleases," and gradually the University had made such a course possible through the introduction of electives and the admission of special students, a privilege that was greatly appreciated by many students of mature years, who, after entering as special students, often remained to take a degree. In 1882 there came a third step in the removal of any fixed requirement as to the last two years of work. Such students as elected to follow the new plan known as the "University System," were permitted to select, subject to approval, the general lines[152] of study to be pursued during this period with a prescribed examination at the end. This work was to be in charge of a committee composed of the Professors in the subjects chosen, and was designed to give the students the advantages of such specialization as was suitable, as soon as practicable. The plan, however, did not prove popular, most of the students preferring the credit system; but the scheme "constituted for a time the constitutional basis of the Graduate School, in so far as that School had any real existence." Probably the same general purpose, as far as preparation for the professions was concerned, was served at a later period by the combining of the literary and medical, and later, the law courses, enabling the student to begin his professional studies after his second year. Elsewhere such specialization as seemed desirable was attained after 1901, through the regular elections, when practically the whole curriculum was thrown open to general election, subject of course to a certain sequence of courses.

The professional departments have had a marked influence upon the University's standing as a center of learning. This is particularly true of the Medical School, which naturally emphasized the value of scholarly training and investigation from the first. It is probably not an exaggeration to say that it was the impetus given by the Medical Faculty which was responsible for the high reputation the University enjoyed from the first, particularly in the sciences. To this fortunate development the two recruits from the Literary Faculty, Dr. Sager, who had been Professor of Botany and Zoölogy, and Dr. Douglas, who served as Professor of Chemistry in both departments, contributed especially, though the influence of the other members of the Medical Faculty, more interested perhaps in the strictly professional[153] aspects of their work, cannot be overlooked. These men were alive to the value of original investigation, their field offered too many opportunities to be neglected by scholars of their caliber, and it was therefore in the Medical School that the first research laboratories were developed. As the numbers in the Medical Department and its prestige increased, this influence grew, so that it may be said that for many years the strongest impulse toward research and the highest scholarship, particularly in the new fields of science, came from the men of the Medical Faculty. Nor has this influence ever weakened, though the eventual establishment of advanced courses and the recognition of research in all departments has tended to make it less conspicuous than in the early days.

With the Law Department it was somewhat different. The old-fashioned conception of the law as a formal body of doctrine, fixed and unchangeable, tended in itself to limit original effort, though Judge Cooley's great work, with its high scholarship and profound learning, added greatly to the reputation of the University. Of recent years, however, there has been a change in the attitude towards the teaching of law. It has come to be recognized that our law is a changing and developing force, and that the adaptation of fundamental legal principles to the advancing demands of modern society, both through legislation and through judicial decision, furnishes a field for research and investigation which demands the highest type of scholarship and training. The modern law student seeks the principles of his science through a careful study of the cases themselves, and no longer accepts a dogmatic statement of the law as laid down in textbook and lecture. This change in the legal curriculum, which is little less than revolutionary, is really[154] based upon scholarship and research on the part of every student, and is reflected in the preoccupation of every law student in his work. Gone are the days when the Law Department was the resort of those who could not succeed in the other departments.

In more practical and especially industrial fields the College of Engineering has also contributed its share, though it was considered a part of the Literary Department throughout all its early years. While its aim is to train men in technical branches, the field of investigation has been by no means neglected, even if the questions studied have largely borne specifically upon such problems as railway and steel construction, the functioning of various types of engines, marine design, the various forms of the utilization of electrical energy, and the many applications of science to industry undertaken by the Department of Chemical Engineering. That this work has been appreciated is evidenced by the increasing number of fellowships for original research maintained by many private corporations, and by the suggestion and tentative establishment in 1920 of a general Department of Industrial Research maintained through co-operation by the manufacturers of the State with the Faculty of the Engineering College. It is specially stipulated that the results of whatever investigations are made under these auspices are to be made public for the benefit of the people of the State, irrespective of the source of income.

This developing spirit led to the formation of a Research Club which has had a profound though quiet influence in the growth of scholarship in the University. The Club meets at stated periods in the Histological Laboratory in the Medical Building, a fact in itself significant of the strong support the organization has always had from the Medical Faculty, and[155] ordinarily listens to two papers, contributed by members. The aim is to present the problem under consideration clearly and with as little emphasis as possible on its technical aspects, a purpose often more successfully realized, according to some of the members, by the men who have been especially successful in their particular fields. The distinguishing mark of this organization is its general and inclusive character; similar clubs elsewhere are more apt to emphasize certain particular and related subjects, and to that extent fail to represent effectively the united scholarly effort of the institution. Many of the papers first read in the Research Club have formed the basis of reports published subsequently in the proceedings of scientific bodies which have attracted wide attention. Particularly noteworthy have been the celebrations of the anniversaries of distinguished scholars and authors, the significance of whose life and works has been emphasized in the papers presented before the members. Similar in aim is the Junior Research Club, whose membership is composed of the younger men of the Faculties of the University.

With the reorganization of the Graduate School in 1912, there came a new emphasis on the publication of works of scholarship by the University. Within a short time several series of "University of Michigan Studies" were established; and to these new volumes are continually being added, which have contributed greatly to the University's place in the world of learning. Though certain other universities, notably Harvard, Cornell, and Chicago, had previously established similar series, Michigan has been well to the fore among American universities in thus systematically giving to the world in adequate form the results of certain aspects of the work carried on within her walls.[156] Particularly in certain cases she has been peculiarly fortunate in the extraordinary value and significance of the original material thus published.

The first series established was known as the "Humanistic Series," issued under the general editorial supervision of Professor Francis W. Kelsey of the Department of Latin, who has been indefatigable in securing material and funds for this work. The publications in the present list of sixteen volumes include three on Roman history and philology made up for the most part of monographs by various members of the Faculty, or graduates of the University, two edited by Professor Henry A. Sanders, and one by Professor C.L. Meader. Another volume deals with "Word Formation in Provençal" and is by Professor Edward L. Adams. Somewhat different in scope are two volumes on Greek vases, or "Lekythoi," by Arthur Fairbanks, at one time Professor of Greek in the University, and now Director of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.

Five volumes in this series have dealt with various manuscripts and objects of ancient art in the collections of the late Charles L. Freer of Detroit. The two by Professor Sanders, dealing with four very early biblical manuscripts, which include Deuteronomy and Joshua, the Psalms, the four Gospels, and fragments of the Epistle of Paul, aroused worldwide interest among scholars when they appeared, particularly as they were accompanied by sumptuous volumes of photogravure fac-similes prepared by Mr. Freer and distributed by the University to the leading libraries throughout the world. As these manuscripts, which were discovered in Egypt and are among the very earliest known, were thus made available for study in a way heretofore almost unknown, the University gained incalculably.[157]

Other volumes in the series include descriptions of certain Coptic manuscripts, documents from the Cairo Genizah, some Eastern Christian paintings in the Freer collection, and a gold treasure found in Egypt.

Translations of ancient scientific and mathematical treatises by Professors John G. Winter and L.C. Karpinski are also to be found in two other volumes of this series, while certain studies in Roman Law and administration by Professors A.E. Boak and J.H. Drake and a discussion of "Greek Themes in Modern Musical Settings," by Professor A.A. Stanley, bring the volumes issued down to the present time. Accompanying this series are a number of Humanistic Papers, including a discussion and symposium on the value of classical training in American education, and a biography of Professor George S. Morris by Professor R.M. Wenley. Two volumes in a scientific series have also appeared: "The Circulation and Sleep," by Professor J.A. Shepard of the Department of Psychology, and "Studies in Divergent Series and Summability," by Professor W.B. Ford of the Department of Mathematics. Two volumes of the Publications of the Astronomical Observatory, dealing with the spectroscopic investigations for which the Observatory is now particularly well equipped, have also appeared. Also to be noted are four numbers of a series of Publications by the Physical Laboratory and seventy-two "Occasional Papers from the Museum of Zoölogy," as well as four volumes in a "University of Michigan Historical Series," including "A History of the Presidents' Cabinets," "The English Rule in Gascony, 1199-1259," "The Color Line in Ohio," and "The Senate and Treaties (1789-1817)," (the last by Professor J.R. Hayden), and two volumes in a series of Economic Studies. A "History of the Chemical[158] Laboratory," by Professor E.D. Campbell, should also be mentioned.

From time to time there have been issued compilations of the publications of members of the University Faculties. These have shown an ever-increasing body of books, articles, and reviews which may be taken as another concrete evidence of the activity of the members of the Faculty in their various fields. The first two of these lists were issued through the medium of a little informative sheet issued for the University for some years by the Alumni Association, known as the News-Letter. The data were far from complete but the published total was not unimpressive. Later the University Library took up the work, while the last two lists of this character were made by Dean A.H. Lloyd, of the Graduate School, as regular University Bulletins. These cover the period from July 1, 1909 to June 30, 1919 and include over one hundred volumes exclusive of ordinary handbooks and textbooks. These two lists give some 1,700 titles.

While it is impossible to mention even a small portion of the publications of more than usual interest during the last fifteen years, there are a few that may be mentioned as evidence of the influence of the University in the world of letters and scholarships. These, omitting numerous textbooks and aside from the volumes issued in the University Humanistic Series and others, include, "The Acropolis at Athens," (1908), by Professor M.L. D'Ooge; "The Will to Doubt, an Essay in Philosophy for the General Thinker," (1907), by Professor A.H. Lloyd; a series of works on psychology by Professor W.B. Pillsbury, including "Attention," (1908); "The Psychology of Reasoning," (1910); "The Fundamentals of Psychology," (1916), and "The Psychology of Nationality and Internationalism," (1919).[159] Professor R.M. Wenley, head of the Department of Philosophy has also written a number of books which include, "Modern Thought and the Crisis in Belief," (1909); "Kant," (1910); "The Anarchist Ideal," (1913); and the "Life of George S. Morris," (1917). Professor R.W. Sellars of the same Department has written, "Critical Realism," (1916); "The Essentials of Logic," (1917); "The Essentials of Philosophy," (1917); and "The Next Step in Religion," (1918), while Professor D.H. Parker is the author of two volumes entitled "The Self and Nature," (1917), and "The Principles of Æsthetics," (1920).

The Department of History includes on its Faculty a number of men whose books have attracted more than a passing attention. Professor C.H. Van Tyne has written among other books, including several textbooks, "The Loyalists in the American Revolution," (1902), and "The American Revolution," (1905); while others to be mentioned are Professor A.L. Cross, whose "History of England and Greater Britain" appeared in 1914; Professor U.B. Phillips, "The Life of Robert Toombs," (1913), and "American Negro Slavery," (1918); and Professor E.R. Turner, "The Negro in Pennsylvania," (1911), and "Ireland and England, in the Past and at Present," (1919).

Professor Henry C. Adams has written a number of books on economics and accounting, particularly "American Railway Accounting," (1918). It is worthy of note that he spent two years in China installing a system of railway accounting for the Chinese government. Other volumes which should be noted are: "Social Problems," (1918), by Professor Charles H. Cooley; "Characteristics of Existing Glaciers," (1911), and "Earth Features and their Meaning," (1912), by Professor William H. Hobbs; "The[160] Hindu-Arabic Numerals," (1911), by Professor L.C. Karpinski, and the "Catalogue of the Stearns Collection of Musical Instruments," (1919), prepared by Professor A.A. Stanley.

By far the greater portion of the publications of the Medical Faculty take the form of monographs, articles, and reports in the various monographic series and medical publications—Dr. Vaughan lists 73 such items in the years between 1909 and 1918. In the Law School several books on different subjects have been issued by members of the present Faculty including Professors R.W. Aigler, Evans Holbrook, E.N. Durfee, E.C. Goddard, and E.R. Sunderland. Particularly to be noted is "The History of Contract in Early English Equity," (1914), by the late Professor Willard T. Barbour.

Most of the books issued by the members of the Engineering Faculty have been primarily textbooks, though many of them have been based upon extended investigations in the subjects presented. Two volumes by Professor Fiske Kimball, formerly of the Department of Architecture, "Thomas Jefferson, Architect," (1916), and a "History of Architecture," (1917), are especially noteworthy, however.

Some of the results of the scientific investigations made by members of the Faculties are published in the form of reports issued by the Government or State, or by various scientific bodies. Thus we have several volumes of reports issued by Professor E.C. Case on the results of his work in the fossil beds of the Southwest, under the auspices of the Carnegie Institution; several statistical reports, the work of Professor James W. Glover, including "Highway Bonds," U.S. Department of Agriculture, 1915, and "U.S. Life Tables," (1910) (1916), issued by the Department of Agri[161]culture; a "Biological Survey of the Sand Dune Region of Saginaw Bay," by Professor Alexander Ruthven, (1910), issued by the Michigan Geological and Biological Survey, and a number of extended reports on the valuation of public service corporations, by Dean M.E. Cooley and Professor H.E. Riggs, in the Transactions of the American Societies of Civil Engineers, and various other bodies.

As has been suggested a great portion of the scientific investigations of the members of the Faculty of the University is reported in the form of monographs and briefer articles in various journals and special publications, and for this reason the names of many men of national and even international repute do not appear in the lists of those who have published books. Many of their publications also have taken the form of textbooks, some of them exceedingly important, but the list is so long that it would be impossible to do justice to all in a short survey.

Of the men in the Literary College whose reports and articles are given in the recent Bibliography a few may properly be mentioned. Thus the work of Professor Moses Gomberg, whose researches in the chemistry of triphenylmethyl won for him in 1914 the prize from the New York branch of the American Chemical Society for the most distinguished work of the year, has been given to the world since 1909 in the form of relatively short papers, some eighteen in all. Professor E.D. Campbell, in addition to the "History of the Chemical Laboratory of the University," has reported his investigations, largely in the chemical composition of steels, in eighteen papers. Professor William J. Hussey and Professor Ralph H. Curtiss have published respectively fourteen and seventeen papers, though many of them have been included in the 'publications' of the Observatory. Professor[162] Hussey has also made a number of reports in Spanish of his work in the observatory at the South American University of La Plata. Other members of the Literary Faculty whose total publications might be mentioned are Professor E.C. Case, of the Departments of Geology and Paleontology, seventeen; Professor A.F. Shull, Zoölogy, twenty-two; Professor William H. Hobbs, Geology, twenty-six; Professor A.H. Lloyd, Philosophy, twenty-one; Professor Fred Newton Scott, Rhetoric, fifteen; and Professor H.H. Bartlett, Botany, thirty-one.

Almost every member of the Medical Faculty has made many contributions to various medical journals. The University Bibliography includes twelve papers by Professor A.M. Barrett, eighteen by Professor C.D. Camp, eighteen by Professor D.M. Cowie, fifteen by Professor G. Carl Huber, eighteen by Professor F.G. Novy, twenty-two by Professor Reuben Peterson, twenty-six by Professor U.J. Wile, and thirty-nine by Professor A.S. Warthin.

In the Law School Dean Henry M. Bates is represented by eleven papers and Professor Ralph W. Aigler by twenty-six.

The Dental College is represented by nineteen papers by Professor Russell W. Bunting and eleven by Professor C.J. Lyons, while the Homeopathic Medical School shows three books and eighteen articles by Professor W.A. Dewey.

During the late war the abilities of such members of the Faculty as were not in active service and the facilities of the University laboratories for research were employed widely by the Government. The Faculty of the Department of Chemical Engineering entered government service almost to a man and an entirely new teaching force had to be secured. Many technical questions, including those connected with[163] poison gas warfare and the development of the government nitrate plants, whose erection was under the charge of Professor A.H. White, as Lieutenant-Colonel in the Army, were investigated in the Chemical Laboratories. The Department of Physics carried on extended researches in co-operation with the Bureau of Standards in Washington. Many special problems were investigated in the Medical Laboratories, as in the Department of Anatomy, where a study of the repair of peripheral nerves after severance was instituted by Dr. G. Carl Huber, first under the National Research Council, later under the office of the Surgeon General, which sent several medical officers to the University for purposes of instruction and to assist him. Dr. Stacey R. Guild, instructor in Anatomy, also made some valuable experiments in war deafness. Special investigations were carried on in the Bacteriological Laboratories under Dr. Novy, in the Pathological Laboratory under Dr. Warthin, and in the Psychopathic Hospital, where Dr. Barrett, while training successive increments of medical officers every six weeks, carried on special investigations in mental disorders arising from the war.

As was to be expected the technical training of the professional staff of the Engineering College and the resources of the laboratories were employed extensively by the Government. This was particularly true of the Department of Marine Engineering, where Professor H.C. Sadler studied the important problem of standardized types of ships, until he became Head of the Bureau of Design with the Shipping Board, when his work in the Naval Tank was carried on by Professor E.M. Bragg.

It cannot be claimed of course that this record in scientific inquiry and advanced scholarship will equal what has been[164] done in certain other universities, whose riper traditions and great endowments have enabled them to carry on special investigations, establish research professorships and support publications, which have thus far proved impossible for a state institution, whose first obligation rests in its relations with the people of the commonwealth. Nevertheless Michigan has been happy in this, as in so many other respects. The liberality and sympathetic understanding of the public opinion upon which the success of the University rests fundamentally, have enabled it to develop scholarly ideals and a recognition of true scholarship which have given Michigan a high rank among American universities.

This fortunate and early recognition of the highest mission of the University was made possible only through co-operation on the part of the Regents, who, as the governing body, have been able on the one side to encourage scholarly ideals in spite of the occasional lack of appreciation of the University's aims on the part of some individual members of the Board, and, on the other, to secure and preserve the University's freedom, threatened by the efforts of the State Legislature to interfere with its affairs. This relationship of the Regents to the maintenance of the University, and to the State, has had a very important effect upon the development of higher learning and research and may therefore properly be outlined at some length in this place.

The University has been truly fortunate for the most part in the men who have composed the governing body. There have been times, it is true, when relations between the Regents and the Faculties have been far from ideal, but it is no less true that the history of the past eighty years will show a remarkable spirit of co-operation and harmony between the two bodies. Otherwise the University could not[165] have become what it is. While the Regents for the most part have not been men primarily interested, or trained, in educational matters, they have taken their duties seriously and have been unselfish in their service for the institution, with no reward for their labors save the honor inherent in their office. They have sought earnestly to understand the problems before them, and, in whatever measures they took, to keep always before them the welfare of the University as a whole. With the ever increasing numbers enrolling as students and the consequent well-nigh irresistible pressure for elementary and the so-called "practical" courses, they have been strong enough and wise enough, and sufficiently sympathetic with the scholarly preoccupations of the leaders of the constantly growing Faculties, to maintain and encourage the higher aims of the University as a center of learning. It is true that the Board is sometimes criticized for taking upon itself functions which might with propriety rest with the Faculties and their administrative officers, but there is at least a legal justification for this in the legislative provisions upon which the powers of the Board of Regents rest. Thus in the Act of March 18, 1837, the Regents are empowered to "enact laws for the government of the University," and to appoint the professors and tutors and fix their salaries. The number of professorships was specified and fixed at thirteen; though it was provided in the first organization that;

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The immediate government of the several departments was to rest with their respective Faculties, but;

The Regents were also to have the power of removing "any professor or tutor, or other officer connected with the institution, when in their judgment the interests of the University shall require it." This specification of the powers and duties of the Regents was repeated with some modifications in the Act of April 8, 1851, which followed the revision of the Constitution of 1850. The Constitution itself merely stated that the Regents "shall have the general supervision of the University and the direction and control of all expenditures from the University interest fund."

These are the general provisions upon which the relations between the Regents and the university body are based. In practice the Faculty has come to have a greater degree of autonomy in certain directions than might be suggested by a strict interpretation of these measures, while in most cases the "advice of the professorship" is sought and followed readily and sympathetically in so far as is warranted by the financial situation, as it appears to the Board.

The University Faculties are organized first by Departments, with one member as head; the Schools and Colleges are also organized under the separate Deans to carry on their own work, while the general organization of the whole Faculty rests in the University Senate, composed of all members of professorial rank, including As[167]sistant Professors. In addition there is a smaller body, known as the Senate Council, composed of the Deans and one other representative of the different Schools and Colleges as well as the President, a secretary, and the chairman of the Committee on Student affairs. To this body are referred many questions of importance for immediate action or reference to the Regents.

The independent position of the Board of Regents as the governing body of the University has not gone unquestioned by the other divisions of the state government, and a series of decisions and judicial interpretations of the constitutional and legislative acts regarding the University have been necessary to establish the powers of the Regents as a separate branch of the state administration. Fortunately for the University these are now well recognized.

The first decision arose through the efforts of the Legislature to compel the Regents to establish a Professorship of Homeopathy in the University, and a mandamus action was brought in 1865 to compel the University to carry out the provisions of a clause to that effect, inserted in the Organic Act of the University in the years before. This was unsuccessful, though not on the ground that the act was unconstitutional but because one Elijah Drake, who brought the action, was not connected with the University and was not, therefore, privileged to sue for the writ. The question was brought up again in 1867, this time by the Regents, who sought to secure the payment of the $15,000 granted to the University upon condition that they establish a Professorship of Homeopathy, by authorizing a School of Homeopathy in Detroit. Again the Court failed to grant the request. Two years later the question came up once more in its first form, in an effort to compel the Regents[168] to establish the proposed Department. The Regents argued;

Again, however, there was no decision; the constitutional status of the University was undecided. But in 1892 a decision did establish that the people of the State, in incorporating the University, had, by their Constitution, conferred the entire control and management of its property upon the Regents, and had thereby excluded all departments of the state government from any interference with it. The property of the University was state property it is true, but it could only be administered by the Board of Regents as a separate division of the State administration.

Finally in 1895 it was definitely decided that the Legislature had no constitutional right to interfere in or dictate as to the management of the University. The question was once more the Homeopathic issue, which took the form of a legislative action to compel the Regents to remove the School to Detroit. This time the Regents reversed their earlier policy and the measure was stoutly resisted by the Board.[169] Judge Claudius B. Grant, '59, in delivering the opinion of the Supreme Court, laid down the principles now accepted as governing the relations of the University and the Legislature. The Board of Regents, he maintained, was the only corporation whose powers were defined in the State Constitution, whereas in the case of every other corporation established by the Constitution it was provided that its powers should be defined by law. "No other conclusion was, in his judgment, possible than that the intention was to place the institution in the direct and exclusive control of the people themselves, through a constitutional body elected by them." Otherwise the Regents would become merely "ministerial officers" with no other duties than to register the will of the Legislature.

The independent status of the University has also been more firmly established in late years by other legislative enactments and decisions. As early as 1863 it was recognized that the Regents had power to hold and convey real estate, though they had no authority over the land granted by Congress for the support of the University, nor over the principal of the fund established through the sale of that land. In 1890 such property was declared exempt from taxation, and in 1893 the Board of Regents was declared to be alone responsible under contracts made by it for the benefit of the University. In the new Constitution of 1908 the Regents were given the right of eminent domain, and on a number of occasions since that time have been able to acquire "private property for the use of the University in the manner prescribed by law." It is difficult to see how the growth of the University during the past twelve years with its constantly expanding building program could have taken place without this salutary check upon the exorbitant de[170]mands of property owners in the neighborhood of the Campus.

This financial autonomy of the Regents, once an appropriation is made by the Legislature, has not gone unquestioned, however, particularly by the Auditor-General. The University fund from early years has been borrowed by the State which until 1896 paid the original interest rate of seven percent. The Auditor-General then decided that the legal rate of six percent should be enforced. The matter was laid before the Supreme Court, however, and the old rate was restored. In 1900 it was definitely ruled by the Attorney-General that "the Auditor-General has no authority to refuse to audit and pay vouchers for real estate purchased by the Board of Regents," and subsequently in 1911, the Supreme Court maintained that the "judgment of the Regents as to the legality and expediency of expenditures for the use and maintenance of the institution" could not be considered "subordinate to that of the Auditor-General."

The powers of the Regents have also been strengthened by other rulings of the Attorney-Generals of the State. Thus in 1900 the power of the Regents to determine student fees was declared not subject to legislative control, while in 1911 the same freedom in the matter of the determination of entrance requirements was conceded. The Board was also declared in 1908 free from the application of an act of the previous year providing for the approval and regulation of salaries in the various state institutions.

The University has thus been as fortunate in the development of its relations with the State as it has been in its internal growth. Though there have been many critical times, the movement has always been forward. The[171] Regents have been careful and conservative in their relations with the Legislature, but they have insisted upon the independence of the University and have been sustained in this position with increasing firmness by the Supreme Court. The Legislature has shown an ever-increasing friendliness toward the University and has never refused to come to the aid of the institution, whatever its views as to the constitutional questions involved in the establishment of the University. This was shown as never before by the 1919 Legislature, which not only granted to the University appropriations amounting to $2,200,000, but gave it by the unanimous vote of both houses, a thing which had never happened before. The Legislature even included one item for which the officers of the University had hardly dared hope to have favorable action at that session.

With its constitutional status so well established; with the Legislature so ready to co-operate in furthering the best interests of the University, with its curriculum continually expanding, though wisely and not too rapidly, and with an ever-increasing emphasis on the highest ideals of scholarship and service, there is every promise for a future of greater usefulness and effective service for the University. We, who love the University of Michigan for what it has accomplished, for what it is, and for what it may become, may well look for a development through the coming years that shall be a fitting continuation of the remarkable success of the great experiment involved in its establishment.

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CHAPTER IX

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:

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,"[173] 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[174] 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,—

As for his boarding place:

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[176] 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[177] 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[178] 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 stu[179]dents. 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[180] 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:

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-[181]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."[182]

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[183] 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 mem[184]bers 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[185] 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[186] 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:

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.

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, [187]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,[188] 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[189] 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.[190]

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[191] 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]

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.[192] 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.

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[193] 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:

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[194] 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. Eventu[195]ally 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[196] 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, 78e, 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.

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[197] 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[198] 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:

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,—

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:

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:

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:

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.

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.

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.

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, 13l, 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:[204]

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.

Nor should another exceedingly popular song of the present time be overlooked:

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 de[206]scribed 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.

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[207]

CHAPTER X

FRATERNITIES AND STUDENT ACTIVITIES

Clubs and societies, organized for almost every conceivable purpose, lay and academic, have always played an important rôle in undergraduate affairs and have formed the most characteristic avenue for self-expression outside the class room. Many, if not most, of these organizations have had only a brief existence. Others, in one form or another, have continued through long periods, and have often exercised a strong, though not always an obvious, influence in the whole fabric of university life. Within the last twenty-five years, too, athletics have come to have a predominant interest, but this aspect of student life at Michigan will be discussed in a separate chapter. Aside from the organizations which have accompanied this overwhelming preoccupation of the masculine student, probably the most conspicuous evidence of the gregarious tendencies of the undergraduate have been the fraternities, and following the introduction of co-education, the sororities, as they soon came to be called. After the great struggle between the Faculty and the fraternities which culminated in 1850, the fraternities came to have an acknowledged place in undergraduate affairs. New chapters soon followed after the first three had made their place secure and within thirty years or so several of the older societies had grown sufficiently in prestige, and particularly in alumni support, to begin the practice of owning their own fraternity houses that has now become the rule. The first thought, nowadays, of any newly established fraternity[208] is to find ways and means for building or buying a chapter house.

At first, nearly two-thirds of the students were fraternity members; but the extraordinary growth of the University soon reduced the proportion of fraternity men. This came partly as a result of the relative slowness of the national bodies to establish new chapters in competition with the societies already on the ground, and partly because of the reluctance of the fraternities themselves to increase the size of their chapters or to take in students from the purely professional schools. For these reasons the percentage of fraternity men was reduced to about one-third the total number of students, a proportion which remained fairly constant for many years. The rise of fraternities in the professional schools and the comparatively recent establishment of many new fraternities, however, has brought the percentage up somewhat, though the growth in general attendance during the same period has prevented any marked increase in the relative numbers of fraternity members over the "independents."

Following the establishment of the first three fraternities, Chi Psi and Beta Theta Pi in 1845 and Alpha Delta Phi in 1846, whose early adventures have been noted, some twenty-eight other general fraternities have been established. Among the first of these were Delta Kappa Epsilon, 1855; Sigma Phi, 1858; Zeta Psi, 1858; Psi Upsilon, 1865; Beta Theta Pi, which had lapsed and was re-established in 1867; Delta Tau Delta, 1874, re-established 1900; Phi Kappa Psi, 1875; Delta Upsilon, 1876; Sigma Chi, 1877; Phi Delta Theta, 1864, re-established in 1887; Sigma Alpha Epsilon, 1888, and Theta Delta Chi in 1889. Since 1890 this list has been more than doubled and includes the re-establishment in 1902 of Phi Gamma Delta originally established[209] in 1885, and Alpha Tau Omega first established in 1888 and re-established in 1904.

Psi Upsilon	Sigma Phi
Phi Delta Theta	Collegiate Sorosis

There are now thirteen sororities in the University. The establishment of the first one caused great amusement among the fraternities. This was Kappa Alpha Theta, which came in 1879 but fell by the wayside six years later and was not revived until 1893. The second arrival on the scene, Gamma Phi Beta, came in 1882, followed by Delta Gamma in 1885, and Collegiate Sorosis in 1886. The first professional fraternity to be established was Phi Delta Phi, a law fraternity, which organized its parent chapter in the University in 1869. It was not until 1882 that the medical fraternity, Nu Sigma Nu, and the dental fraternity, Delta Sigma Delta, established their Alpha chapters at Michigan. Since that time fourteen more professional fraternities have appeared.

These fraternities, together with the three house clubs, Trigon, Emerites and Monks, which in effect are maintained as fraternities, bring the total number of these organizations in the University to sixty-four, with an estimated active membership of something over 2,000 University men and women.

The first fraternity to establish a chapter house was Alpha Delta Phi, which occupied in the college year 1875-76, the old "Octagon House," later the home of Professor Winchell, on the site of the present Hill Auditorium. The present Psi Upsilon chapter house on the corner of South University Avenue and State Street was, however, the first chapter house built for that purpose. It was erected during the year 1879-80 and preceded by four years the erection of the old Alpha Delta Phi house, the second fraternity house to be built. Sigma Phi occupied, in[210] 1882, the old home of Professor Moses Coit Tyler, on the beautiful site of the present chapter house. The Delta Kappa Epsilon house was built in 1889; the old Governor Ashley property on Monroe Street was bought by Delta Upsilon in 1887; Zeta Psi bought the property on which the present house stands in 1890; while Phi Kappa Psi bought, in 1893, the picturesque Millen property on the triangle between Washtenaw and Hill streets they had occupied for ten years, one of Ann Arbor's landmarks which has only recently been removed to make way for a new chapter house. At the present time practically all of the fraternities either own or rent chapter houses; ordinarily purchasing the property with alumni assistance, and issuing mortgages, largely held by the alumni, or the national organization, for any unpaid balance.

A comparison of this record of fraternity establishment with similar figures from other universities will show that Michigan was one of the first of the larger institutions in which the fraternity system took deep root. Student life at Michigan has always been colored by it, and the mass of students, from the first, has been divided into fraternity and non-fraternity elements; an unofficially recognized distinction which has had far-reaching effects in all student affairs, particularly class-elections, student athletics, journalism, and general society membership. The "independent" suffers no particular social disability, save as he misses the pleasant club life of the fraternity. Often, if he is a man of marked ability, he finds his independence a distinct advantage in college affairs, for non-fraternity men have always been in sufficient majority to see that the choice positions go to the "independent" representatives. Within the fraternities, too, there has always existed a division between the older and the more recent organization which was, for[211] a long time, almost as marked as the division between fraternity and non-fraternity men. This came through the rivalry that arose between two groups of fraternities. The first, known as the "Palladium," took its name from an annual, first published in 1859, which came to represent the interests of nine fraternities in college up to 1876, while a second group was made up of the fraternities established after that date. The break came through the establishment of an "anti-secret" fraternity, Delta Upsilon, which the older fraternities refused to recognize though it later assumed a passive rôle, and became merely non-secret. This organization, however, with the addition of the new fraternities as they were established, formed an opposition to the older societies who stubbornly maintained their control of the Palladium. This continued until 1891 when the Palladium finally absorbed the Castalian, the annual of the independents, and Res Gestae, the law annual, and became at last a representative University publication.

Although in 1897 the name was changed to the present Michiganensian, the spirit of the old "Palladium," as an inner ring of fraternities, still existed, particularly in the administration of the annual Junior Hop, which had been a definitely organized student event at least as far back as 1877, and had been preceded by a similar ball given by the Seniors since 1868. The older fraternities long maintained an exclusive control of the Junior Hop. But in 1896 the out-fraternities and the independents protested to the Regents, who sustained their contention, that the Hop, given in the University buildings, should include representatives from the entire Junior class. The Palladium fraternities refused to participate, and that year two "Hops" were given, one by eight fraternities in Toledo, D.K.E. not being[212] represented, and one in the Gymnasium by the more recent fraternities and the independents. The question arose again the next year but was eventually settled by a plan of organization admitting representation upon the committee from all fraternities and the independents in rotation.

The establishment in 1914 of an Inter-Fraternity Conference marked a further step in the relations of these organizations to the University. For some time "the fraternity situation," as it was usually spoken of, had been increasingly unsatisfactory. Ideals of scholarship were low, or non-existent, in practically all of the fraternities. The Junior Hop had become so uncontrolled and extravagant that the Faculty had abolished it,—while "rushing" methods, particularly the practice of pledging boys long before they were ready for college, called for drastic action. This was strongly recommended by the Committee on Student Affairs in its 1913 Report, and the fraternities were accordingly given notice to "clean house." The result was the establishment of the Inter-Fraternity Conference and the adoption of a constitution just in time to avoid decisive action by the University authorities, but not without great opposition from the Palladium group. The most striking provisions of this constitution are: the abolition of premature pledging through a provision that all pledging must be done in Ann Arbor and not before the tenth day previous to the opening of classes; the prohibition of any freshman living in a fraternity house, a rule since modified; and most important of all, a provision that no initiate shall have less than eleven hours of credits of at least C grade, and that no student on probation or warning shall be initiated. The sororities took similar action in a provision limiting the amount and character of the rushing and establishing a fixed day for the[213] extending of "bids" to be sent out from one central office.

These efforts have all had a most favorable effect on fraternity scholarship and general deportment, which has been further stimulated by the publication of a scholarship chart showing the exact relative standing of all the fraternities and house clubs in the University. This has revealed a gradual rise in the average of fraternity scholarship, though few fraternities, it must be acknowledged, have ever exceeded the average for the whole student body, which is between C and B grades. There is significant evidence of the success of co-education, too, in the fact that few sororities have ever fallen below this average. The publication of this chart has at least had the effect of establishing a healthy rivalry among the fraternities as regards avoiding the last place on the list, whatever their attitude may be as regards first place; while the scholastic standings of the various fraternities proved their value immediately as an argument with prospective initiates, something almost inconceivable fifteen years ago. The unequivocal evidence furnished by these charts has also led to numerous investigations and subsequent action on the part of the alumni of many of the fraternities.

Student journalism, though it reflects in the rise and fall of paper after paper the changing complexion of successive student generations, is, after all, one of the best mirrors of undergraduate life. It is no surprising matter, therefore, even though it is to be regretted, that no student journal has survived from the University's earlier period, although the Michiganensian has a gallery of ancestors which, at least, establishes its lineage. In the very earliest period, whatever literary efforts there were, were lost or preserved only in the manuscript papers of the early literary societies,[214] which provided the only practical outlet for the student who wanted to write. Paper and printing were too expensive for actual publication, so it was not until June, 1857, that the first real student paper appeared, with the impressive title of Peninsular Phoenix and University Gazetteer, a semi-annual four page sheet whose first page was devoted to lists of University officers and secret-society members, while its existence as a gazetteer was justified by a very few "connubial" items.

The title of this publication was truly prophetic for its successor, The University Phoenix, arose from its ashes the following November,—in the form of an eight-page monthly, the first number of which was largely devoted to a long editorial, an article on the University Museum of Arts, and another on the Detroit Observatory. This was published by Green and Company, an organization which consisted of one S.B. Green, a student of the class of '60 who was a printer, and a non-existent company, though it was supposed to have the support of the three literary societies. Another publication which had appeared between the two issues of the Phoenix was the one issue of the University Register.

Though a list of fraternity men was published in all of these sheets, the fraternities were not satisfied and decided to establish a paper of their own. Thus was born, in 1859, the Palladium, a four-page paper which for some time appeared semi-annually. As the first issue was apparently listed as number 2, it is probable that it was considered the reincarnation of the Phoenix. In the issue for December, 1860, the editor reveals the fact that 800 copies were printed at a cost of $85. It was then a booklet of less than 50 pages, bound in glazed paper, with almost no literary matter included, although the first number did contain a "Fresh[215]man Song," the first bit of Michigan undergraduate verse. Eventually, as we have seen, it became part of the Michiganensian.

The Palladium was not long without a rival, which came with the establishment of the Independent, "a small quarterly of some forty violently written pages," illustrating "not only the bitter feeling between the societies and the independents, but also the hostile attitude of students towards the Faculty." It lasted for just four issues and was succeeded by the University Magazine, which quietly died after one gasp, leaving the independents with no representation until 1866 when the Castalia appeared. This survived through five issues, not to appear again until 1890 when the independents revived it as the Castalian, also merged in 1893 in the Michiganensian.

A combination of two publications which followed the old Castalia in 1867, the University Chronicle, an eight-page fortnightly of sometimes "rather hot discussions," and the University Magazine, which had been a most creditable student enterprise, produced one of the long-standing student papers, the Chronicle, the first number of which appeared in September, 1869. For the first few years of its existence, it was one of the best college papers in the country, though it made great capital of the hostile attitude of the students towards the Regents and Professors and undertook to speak boldly of "the evils that have crept into the University through the mismanagement of the Regents." It appeared at first as a large 16-page pamphlet, three columns to the page. At the same time the Chronicle was established, a sophomore annual appeared, The Oracle, which had a long and checkered career as a champion of co-education.

This triumvirate of student journals held sway with only[216] occasional rivalry until a disputed election in 1882 resulted in the establishment of a new fortnightly, the Argonaut, as a rival to the Chronicle. This journal became a weekly in 1884. The two soon became the organs of opposing fraternity factions, and assuming a political rather than a literary character, lost ground rapidly. An eventual consolidation did not save them and the last number of the combined journals appeared in 1891. They were succeeded by two new ventures, the Daily, which was started in September, 1890, still with us as an institution in undergraduate life, and the Inlander, whose long and honorable, if somewhat spasmodic, career as a literary magazine only came to an end finally in 1918. Wrinkle, Michigan's first humorous paper, appeared in 1893 and was immediately popular. It survived until 1905, when it also died of inanition, to be succeeded after a few years by the present Gargoyle of varying merit. With the first discontinuance of the Inlander, about the same time Wrinkle died, the student body was left with only the Daily and the Michiganensian as unsatisfactory vehicles for purely literary efforts, save occasional fugitive sheets which usually passed away almost before they appeared. In 1916 the Inlander was re-established but seemed unable to make a place for itself and was succeeded in 1919 by the present Chimes. Of departmental publications only the Technic, established by the engineers in 1885, is still in existence and thus may honorably claim to be the oldest student journal in the University.

Uncertain and varying as the careers of most of these publications have been, they have filled their place in the student scheme of existence; at least they have given valuable experience to their amateur editors and publishers and have been a needed vehicle for the expression of student[217] opinion. The long list of editors includes the names of many alumni who have made their mark, not only in the world of letters, but in many other fields. The papers that survived longest usually lived by virtue of their independence; those that died, did so because they filled no recognized need or were too crude or too conscientiously academic. Of the present-day publications, the Daily and the Michiganensian are apparently fixtures. The Daily sometimes tries all too apparently to ape the defects and not the merits of the greater journals and suffers from a constantly changing personnel and lack of experienced editors, but it is improving and benefiting through a certain degree of co-operation with the classes in journalism in the University. The editor and business manager are given a salary and are subject to close supervision by the Board in Control of Student Publications, which has so wisely administered the affairs of the various papers that a fund of some $30,000 has been saved towards the establishment of a University Press. The same is true of the Michiganensian, which has come to be of impressive bulk, and is usually on the whole a well edited and printed annual reference book with numerous illustrations and data concerning all of the student organizations. A directory of students in the University is also published under the supervision of the Board in Control as well as a tri-weekly paper, the Wolverine, by the students of the Summer Session. The alumni publication, the Michigan Alumnus, which first appeared in 1894, will be mentioned in a later chapter.

Interest in public speaking and debating has existed almost from the first days of the University, though it was only after the establishment of the Department of Oratory that instruction began to be given systematically and con[218]secutively. Before that time, some elocutionary training had been given by Professor Moses Coit Tyler in combination with his work in English Literature, and later by President Hutchins, then instructor in Rhetoric and History, who introduced what was then known as the Junior Debates. These were continued by his successor, Isaac N. Demmon, who was to become in a few years Professor of English Literature. The great increase in the work in composition and public speaking which came with the broadening of the course of study in 1878, however, led to the abandonment of these debates and instruction in the subject fell to a low ebb until Professor Trueblood came in 1884 to give one-third of his time to this work. His success in this field eventually led to his appointment as Professor of Oratory in 1890.

But if the powers that be were slow to recognize the desire of the students for instruction in public speaking, there were many more or less unofficial avenues for those who desired to give vent to their oratorical impulses. Two escape valves existed almost from the first, the old literary societies, and the class exhibitions and Commencement programs which have been mentioned. The first literary society, Phi Phi Alpha, was organized in 1842, to be followed, after an internal struggle in the older society, by Alpha Nu, which has survived to the present time and has long been the oldest of student organizations. Adelphi, the other existing society, was not started until shortly before the demise of Phi Phi Alpha in 1860. The traditional programmes of these societies were largely orations, essays, and concluding debates in which such momentous questions as,

These societies also maintained literary papers. Phi Phi Alpha had the "Castalia," Alpha Nu, the "Sybil," and Adelphi, "The Hesperian." In 1868 they established a series of prize contests, debates for sophomores and juniors, and orations for seniors. For these first and second prizes were awarded at public exhibitions, which never failed to arouse great interest. This traditional emphasis on public speaking has been maintained consistently down to the present time, and many distinguished alumni of the University have been numbered among the contestants.

For many years the two societies Alpha Nu and Adelphi have occupied two rooms on the fourth floor of University Hall, the only student organizations entirely independent of Faculty patronage thus recognized. Why they have not come to occupy the prominent place that two similar organizations hold at Princeton, the Clio and Whig societies, whose two marble temples are one of the distinguishing marks of Princeton's Campus, is a matter for speculation. Probably the fact that Princeton long remained a college while Michigan early became a university with a more inclusive curriculum, will best explain it. As it is, however, these societies have in the past done a great service for the University and deserve to survive. They are not, however, the only student organizations which have had exercise in public speaking as their reason for existence, for many such have come and gone,[220] only to be remembered by their own student generation and by the heavy weight of their classical names. Such were a multitude of debating clubs which sprang up in the "60's" under such impressive titles as "Homotrapezoi," "Philozetian," "Panarmonian," or, in the Law Department, the less pretentious "Douglas," "Clay," and "Lincoln" Societies which were the forerunners of the present Jeffersonian and Webster Societies. A latter-day organization has been the long popular "Toastmaster's Club" which aims to perpetuate the doubtful joys of after-dinner oratory. Other means of self-expression for those oratorically bent, were those formal exhibitions of which the long-popular annual Junior Exhibition was the most prominent. Nowadays, the only vestige of student participation in programs of this character remains in the annual Class Day Exercises.

Another organization which stimulated interest in platform speaking was the Students' Lecture Association, which was until recently one of the most successful undergraduate enterprises. It was organized in September, 1854, and continued for nearly sixty years to bring distinguished and sometimes, judged by later-day standards, undistinguished speakers before student audiences. It ceased to exist in 1912, but only after the broadening interests of the University began to attract to Ann Arbor many prominent visitors whose addresses have been usually given free of charge, while at the same time the multiplication of other forms of entertainment lessened the attractions of the traditional lecture course. But an association which, in its day, brought to Ann Arbor such men as Emerson, Bayard Taylor, Horace Mann, Wendell Phillips, Theodore Parker, Henry Ward Beecher, Winston Spencer Churchill, Henry M. Stanley, Wu Ting Fang, and Presidents Harrison, McKinley, Cleveland,[221] and Wilson, played no minor rôle in University life. That the privilege of hearing some of these speakers was not always properly appreciated is shown by the comments of the editor of one of the local papers on a lecture by Emerson.

With the gradual organization of the Department of Oratory, public speaking soon came to have a recognized place among student interests, and eventually inter-collegiate debates and contests were organized to stimulate student interest. These were first inaugurated by the Oratorical Association, which, soon after its establishment in 1889, issued an invitation to neighboring universities to form an Oratorical Union. This resulted in the Northern Oratorical League, which has long maintained an annual series of inter-collegiate contests and debates. The representatives of the University are selected only after several contests and preliminary debates in the various societies, with an average of at least fifty candidates participating. Michigan has always maintained a leading position in this form of undergraduate activity and of the twenty-nine inter-collegiate contests in which she has taken part she has won nine first honors and four second honors. The University has also participated in some sixty-four inter-collegiate debates, of which she has won forty-two; her nearest rival being Northwestern, with nine victories. Eleven of these debates were won in succession, and twenty-four by the unanimous decision of the judges.[222]

This form of inter-collegiate rivalry has been greatly stimulated by a medal and testimonial of $85 given to the winner of the annual University Contest by the Chicago alumni and by similar prizes to the winners of the inter-collegiate contests and debates.

Interest in the drama on the part of the students was of comparatively slow development, though in recent years it has come to be one of the most conspicuous "student activities." While a "Shakespeare Club" existed as early as 1860, the stage did not hold a particularly high place in public regard in the University's earlier years, and good plays were seldom seen in Ann Arbor. The celebrated actress, Mrs. Scott Siddons, gave several recitals in the seventies, while a performance of Hamlet, given in 1879 by Lawrence Barrett, was received with the highest praise. His visit gave an impetus to dramatic affairs and led to the organization of a Barrett Club which gave a performance of Dollars and Cents in 1880—the first recorded amateur dramatic performance in the University. But it was not until two years later that the University's dramatic history may be said to have begun with the two Commencement plays, the Adelphi of Terence, given in Latin under the direction of Professor Charles M. Gayley, '74, and Racine's Les Plaideurs, in French, under Assistant Professor Paul R. de Pont of the Department of French.

From that time on interest in college dramatics steadily increased. Professor de Pont, whose interest in student life never flagged, took a leading part in the presentation of several plays, and one opera, Gilbert and Sullivan's Iolanthe (1883), by companies of students and faculty members. Largely through his efforts a University Dramatic Club was organized in 1885 and gave such plays as A Scrap of Paper[223] (1885) and The Memoirs of the Devil (1888), which "caused the student body to sit up and take notice." Plays of this lighter character were all that were attempted until 1890, when another Latin play, Plautus' Menaechmi, was given so successfully under the direction of Professor J.H. Drake, '85, that it was later presented in Chicago. This was the last effort in classical drama until twenty-six years later, when the Menaechmi was repeated with great success in Hill Auditorium on March 30, 1916. This was followed in 1917 by Euripides' Iphigenia Among the Taurians, given by the students in Greek, for which special music in the ancient Greek modes was written by Dr. A.A. Stanley.

The old Dramatic Club was eventually disbanded in the early '90's, only to be succeeded by another student organization, the still existing Comedy Club, which has had a varying career. Soon after its organization it became an exceedingly close corporation among certain fraternities and confined its offerings to light comedies and farces of the type that offered no great difficulties, such as The Private Secretary, All the Comforts of Home, and My Friend from India. A reorganization of the Club in 1908 made membership dependent upon real ability, and since that time Farquahar's Recruiting Officer, (1908); Barrie's Admirable Crichton, (1909); Gogol's Inspector, (1910); Percy McKaye's Scarecrow, (1914), and Barrie's Alice Sit by the Fire, (1919), are fairly representative of the plays given.

The reorganization of the Comedy Club came largely because of the successful efforts of the Deutscher Verein and the Cercle Français, to give a series of the best plays in German and French literature. The list of these productions has been a long and creditable one, those in German including, after their first performance, Der Hochzeitsreise by[224] Benedix, in 1904; Die Journalisten, (1906 and 1912); Minna von Barnhelm, (1908); Egmont, (1909); and Der Dummkopf, (1911). Since the French Circle made its début in 1907, with Les Deux Timides by Labiche, and Molière's Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme, several other comedies by Molière have been most successfully given; as well as Beaumarchais' Barbier de Seville, (1909); Rostand's Les Romanesques, (1911); and Pailleron's modern comedy Le Monde ou l'On s'Ennuie, (1912).

Somewhat different from these revivals of the best in dramatic literature, have been the far more popular Michigan Union Operas, written and produced almost entirely by students. Originally designed as a means for raising funds for the Union, always needed, particularly in the earliest days, they speedily became an institution in undergraduate life. All the librettos, with one or two exceptions, have been the work of students, and the same is true of the music, which has often developed an extraordinary vein of undergraduate talent. In fact, more than once it has been the music which has given these operas their chief merit. Save for one war-time emergency, when University women participated, the entire cast has always been recruited from the men of the University and the burlesque of the "chorus girls" has always been one of the perennial charms of the opera in undergraduate estimation. The first opera, given in 1908, was entitled Michigenda and became instantly popular, not only because of its novelty and the excellence of its music, but also because its plot was built about the local color of undergraduate life, a precedent which, unfortunately, has not always been followed in later operas. The 1920 opera, George Did It, was artistically as well as financially the most successful of the Union's productions. Five or six per[225]formances are usually given in Ann Arbor, and of late years a trip during the spring vacation through the cities of Michigan and occasionally to Chicago has drawn large audiences of alumni and others, attracted by the real merit and novelty of this student effort. Not to be outdone by the men of the University, the junior class women have also, for some years, presented a similar extravaganza which, though not open to the general public, is always noted for its cleverness and real humor.

For some twelve years also a feature of the Commencement program has been the annual play given by the senior girls, usually on Tuesday evening of Commencement Week. The list of plays presented includes, She Stoops to Conquer, (1905); The Knight of the Burning Pestle, (1906); Cranford, (1908); Euripides' Alcestis, (1912), in which the classical entrance to Alumni Memorial Hall was used most effectively; Prunella, (1914); The Piper, (1916); and in 1919, Percy McKaye's A Thousand Years Ago. Within recent years, "Masques," an organization of University women, has given unusually artistic performances of Pinero's The Amazons, (1918), and Barrie's Quality Street, (1919). The Department of Oratory has also interested itself in the drama and is responsible for several well-considered presentations of such plays as Galsworthy's Silver Box; Kennedy's The Servant in the House, (1916); Ibsen's Pillars of Society, (1917); and Masefield's Tragedy of Nan, (1918).

Contemporary interest in pageantry has likewise not been without its effect in the University, as was shown by a praiseworthy though perhaps over-ambitious pageant, Joan of Arc, given under the auspices of the Woman's League on Ferry Field in 1914, and a less elaborate but more effective celebration of the Shakespeare Centenary two years later,[226] entitled The Queen's Progress, given in Hill Auditorium. The Cosmopolitan Club, composed of the foreign students, has also taken advantage of the same spacious stage to give two elaborate entertainments in 1916 and 1917, an All-Nation Review, and The Magic Carpet.

This brief outline of student dramatic efforts in recent years reveals a multiplicity of interested organizations as well as a wide variety of offerings. Necessarily this has given rise to rivalries and sometimes inadequate preparation, though it has stimulated a vital and intelligent interest in the drama as an actual form of artistic expression. One of the greatest needs these student actors and their Faculty directors experience, is a university theater which will, in effect, be an actual dramatic workshop. These conditions have led to the recent organization of a University Dramatic Society, composed largely of members of the Faculty and a few students, whose aim is to correlate the work of the various dramatic organizations of the University and to arouse interest in the project for a Campus Theater. As a producing organization it made its bow in December, 1919, when, with the co-operation of the Michigan Union, it produced a most finished performance of Reginald DeKoven's operetta, Red Feather.

The first mention of any musical organization in the University occurs in some reminiscences of the class of 1846. Winfield Smith says that the flute was very popular in those days, and that "several could be heard in different rooms when the windows were open on a summer evening." A quartette orchestra was organized by John S. Newberry, '47, while the first vocal music was started by Fletcher Marsh, of the first class to graduate, in 1844, which "rapidly developed into a good chorus." Dr. Nathaniel West, '46, tells[227] of the fine singing in the chapel exercises of his time, with "excellent support from a University Band of nine pieces." With evident pride he confesses: "This hand used to slide the trombone and sometimes the cornet."

Interest in music apparently continued and was actively fostered by Professor Frieze after he came to the University. An exceptionally fine musician himself, he presided at the organ in one of the local churches for many years, and took every occasion to encourage good music among the students. The early numbers of the Palladium and its rivals mention many ephemeral musical organizations beginning in 1859 with a nine-piece orchestral club, "Les Sans Souci." Evidently the name was too much for this modest effort and the same or a similar organization appears as the "Amateur Musical Club" the following year. The same issue of the Palladium also lists a University Choir of four persons. After that time hardly a year passes without vocal and instrumental musical organizations in some form; in 1863 we have the "Junior Glee Club," and the "Sophomore Æolians," while in 1865 a "Cremona Club" appears. In 1867-68 the first "University Glee Club" of eight members was organized and in 1870, the senior year of its members, it gave some twenty-six most successful concerts throughout the State. They appeared in University caps, apparently something entirely new, as some thought they were members of a fire company, while others "mistook them for Arabs from Forepaugh's circus." The example set by this successful club, to which belongs the credit of elevating and popularizing college songs, was not immediately followed, however, and there were several years when the glee club was dormant. With its effectual revival in 1884, the history of the University Glee Club has been continuous to[228] the present time. It was supplemented in 1889-90 by the Banjo Club and in 1895 and 1896 by the Mandolin Club—and after that time the triple organization went by the name of the University Musical Clubs. The first extended trip was taken in 1890 when the organization visited several Michigan cities, and also Chicago, Madison, Minneapolis, and St. Paul. In 1896 the trip went as far afield as Salt Lake City, an extensive itinerary which crippled more than one cash balance. Since that time, under more careful management, several most successful trips have been made to the Pacific Coast.

The various University orchestras and musical clubs supplied the University's needs until, in 1895, the University Band was organized. This suffered a precarious existence, though much appreciated by the students, until in 1914 the Regents made an appropriation for its support which enabled it to blossom out as one of the most creditable college bands in any American University. Not only does it play at all football and baseball games, but it has come to be indispensable during such occasions as the annual Commencement.

Though not strictly a student organization, the University Musical Society and the Choral Union, since their organization in 1879-80, have had as their main object the musical welfare of the student body, and so successful have they been in their effort, that Ann Arbor has become one of the musical centers of the country. The modest concerts first given by the Choral Union, composed largely of students, prepared the way for the establishment in 1893 of the annual May Festival, which has become an established event of the University year under the energetic and able direction of Dr. A.A. Stanley, who has well accomplished the task[229] he set himself when he came to Ann Arbor in 1888, to create a true musical atmosphere in the University of Michigan. The number of concerts given under the auspices of the Choral Union, including the May Festival Concerts, now totals 318.

The gregarious club-forming habit, as we have seen, began as far as the University is concerned almost with the admission of the first class. A list of such organizations might be compiled from old Palladiums and Michiganensians, but it would be to little purpose. In most cases these societies have been ephemeral, and if they did survive their own generations, they soon lapsed into pale shadows, or faded away, with no one to mark their passing. There are certain societies, however, which have been in existence some time, that serve to mark a definite trend in undergraduate life, though most of them reflect not so much scholastic attainment as personal popularity. The most conspicuous of these is "Michigamua," a society which was organized in 1902 as an all-senior organization. It has always stressed the Indian tradition in its practices and names, and has made a picturesque ceremony of its annual "rope-in" of new members, who are surrounded on a certain day in spring with a howling band of painted braves. Similar societies in other departments and classes soon followed, and we now have the "Griffins," another all-campus society; "Druids," senior literary; "Sphinx," junior literary; "Vulcans," senior engineering; "Triangle," junior engineering; "Archons," junior laws; "Galens," medical; "Alchemists," chemical students; "Craftsmen," Masonic students; "Quarterdeck," marine engineering; as well as several similar societies among the women, notably the "Senior Society" and "Mortarboard."

As for the real "honor" societies, those whose member[230]ship is in itself an academic honor, there are several whose members are selected with Faculty co-operation. These are best illustrated by Phi Beta Kappa, the oldest inter-collegiate organization, which was established at Michigan only after long opposition centering about the introduction of a marking system, the absence of which was long a special characteristic of the University. In spite of this, many alumni were elected at the time of its establishment in 1907, upon the special recommendation of older members of the Faculty whose co-operation had been requested. Five years before the time when Phi Beta Kappa was established, Sigma Xi, a similar organization, was inaugurated as a recognition of excellence in science. Tau Beta Pi in engineering likewise came in the field in 1906. There followed quickly, after this auspicious start, the following societies, most of them of national scope; Alpha Omega Alpha, in the Medical School; Tau Sigma Delta, in Architecture; Phi Lambda Upsilon, in Chemistry; the Order of the Coif, and also the Woolsack, in the Law School; Phi Sigma, in Science; Pi Delta Epsilon, in Journalism; Iota Sigma Pi for women specializing in chemistry; and Phi Alpha Tau for students in oratory. Analogous to these distinctions are the annual appointments to the editorial board of the Law Review, open to the best senior students in the Law School.

A society organized by upper classmen in 1900, "Quadrangle," for many years maintained outstanding scholastic ability as well as a certain degree of popularity as qualifications for membership. Its traditions have perhaps changed somewhat through a too great, though perhaps inevitable instructorial complexion and the abandonment of its original emphasis on literature and the arts. Among the women a[231] similar association is found in "Stylus," a society established in 1908. Similar societies, which emphasize the literary and scientific interests of their members, are the University Branches of the American Institutes of Electrical and Mechanical Engineers, the "Prescott Club" of students in Pharmacy, the "Architectural Society," the "Commerce Club," and another women's society, "Athena."

For some years there was a marked tendency in the University to form sectional clubs, such as the "Rocky Mountain," "New York," "Pennsylvania," and "New England" clubs, usually with their own house and dining-room, organized somewhat on the example of the fraternities. The impulse, however, has lapsed somewhat, though the foreign students in the University still maintain the "Cosmopolitan Club," a very active organization with national affiliations, as well as a "Chinese Students Club," a "South African Union," and a "Nippon Club."

In the earlier years the students came almost entirely from nearby towns in Michigan, many registering from little hamlets now almost forgotten. By 1850, however, almost one-third of the total of 64 students in the academic department were from outside the State, some even hailing from as far as New England. Ten years later almost half the 526 enrolled were from other states than Michigan, with a sprinkling from Canada. The same was true of the 1,112 students in 1870, though by this time practically all sections of the country were represented—even California. Less than half the students in 1880 were from Michigan, 642 out of a total enrolment of 1,427, a condition that also held true in 1890, when the proportion was 1,019 out of 2,153. But by 1900 Michigan was again sending more than half the students in the University, 2,009 out of 3,440; and the same[232] was true in 1910 with 2,832 out of 5,383 and again in 1920 with 5,793 out of 9,401.

Professor Hinsdale in his "History" publishes a significant little table showing that in 1870 the ratio of Michigan students to the population of the State was one to 2,300. This ratio was increased slightly ten years later and then dropped to one in 1,802 in 1890, one in 1,206 in 1900, and to one in 992 in 1910. The 1920 census shows one in 636.

The enrolment of foreign students in the University is also significant. Aside from students registering from Canada, who came almost from the first, the first appreciable showing of foreign students came in the eighties, with nine enrolled in 1880. In 1890 there were forty-three including twenty-one from Japan, but ten years later the number had dropped to nineteen. This was due partly to the fact that there were only seven Japanese students, while the seven from Porto Rico and two from Hawaii were no longer "foreign." The total, excluding fourteen from the United States dependencies and twenty-five from Canada, was sixty-eight in 1910. Of this number eleven students were from China; a little band which grew to thirty-six in 1919, when they formed no inconsiderable proportion of the 140 foreign students enrolled, strongly organized for social and educational purposes and affiliated with similar organizations in other universities. Japan sent eighteen and South Africa twenty-eight the same year. Aside from these, seventy-four were registered from Canada and fourteen from Porto Rico, the Philippines, and Hawaii. Of late years there has also been a marked increase of students from Central and South America.

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[233]

CHAPTER XI

ATHLETICS

Michigan differs in no respect from other American universities in the general and, some would have it, the extravagant interest in outdoor sports which have come to be defined under the general term "athletics." This emphasis on contests and games of strength and skill is universal and is woven into the very fabric of student life in all our universities and colleges. We cannot therefore avoid the conclusion that it is an inevitable and characteristic expression of the American spirit. It is only natural for the sons and grandsons of the men who settled this country to take an interest in wholesome and vigorous sports; in fact it would be a sad commentary on the degeneracy of the modern generation if such an expression of their inheritance were not evident. But a distinctively American attitude towards sport is also manifested in the intense personal and university rivalries developed, the very rock upon which the modern system of inter-collegiate athletics rests, no less than in the genius for organization and systemization which has, within the last twenty-five years, made organized athletics such a tremendous factor in the life of all American universities.

Whatever changes the future is to bring in the development and control of inter-collegiate athletics, our universities cannot very well escape the fundamental fact that they have become an integral part of our university system, and that, rather than attempting a change by radical measures, they[234] can best correct any present abuses by wise regulation, by a constant effort toward a modification of the present overwhelming emphasis on the one game, football, and above all, by a consistent encouragement of universal participation on the part of the students in some form of college sport. This, in fact, is the latest development. It is not so much a reform as a return to older traditions, from which we have departed only in comparatively recent years, as the following review of Michigan's athletic history will show. This survey is offered, however, not so much because of its relation to the general development of the present-day attitude toward sports in American universities as because it may have particular interest for every Michigan graduate, whether he counts himself a radical or a conservative in matters athletic.

It goes without saying that there was almost no thought of organized sport in the early days. Nathaniel West, '46, once told the Washington alumni, that "among our athletics were various forms of activity—the foot race from a quarter to a half mile,—baseball, a few rods from the stile,"—and what will seem certainly a novel event to a modern athlete,—"sawing our own wood and carrying it upstairs." Edmund Andrews, the President of '49, has also left a record of his time.

This we may take as a fair picture of athletic activities for many years. Cricket was undoubtedly the first sport to[235] be organized in the University, as the Palladium for 1860-61 gives the names of the eight officers and twenty-five members of the "Pioneer Cricket Club," while the Regents' Report for June, 1865, shows an appropriation of $50 for a cricket ground on the Campus,—the first official recognition of athletics in the University. The game of wicket, which was a modification of cricket, was played with a soft ball five to seven inches in diameter, and with two wickets (mere laths or light boards) laid upon posts about four inches high and some forty feet apart. The "outs" tried to bowl these down, and the "ins" to defend them with curved broad-ended bats. It was necessary to run between the wickets at each strike.

The need for a gymnasium was speedily recognized, but the agitation for it among the students continued for thirty years before the present building was finally completed in 1894. The first gymnasium was an old military barracks which was transformed into a gymnasium of a sort about the year 1858. It stood near the site of the old heating plant at the side of the present Engineering Building, and as it was very open to the weather, resting only on poles sunken in the ground and with a tan bark floor, it was used only in warm weather. The apparatus consisted of a few bare poles, ropes, and rings. Even this make-shift was short-lived, for in 1868 the class of '70 erected a "gymnasium in embryo" described by a graduate of '75 as "two uprights with a cross-beam and ropes dangling from eye-bolts—the remains of some prehistoric effort towards muscular development," which was to be found "back of the Museum";—otherwise the old North Wing. Mark Norris, '79, thus pictures the comparatively primitive state of athletics in the University of his day:[236]

But with the opening of the year 1885 the old rink, later to become the armory, was fitted up as a gymnasium and a great impetus was given to all athletic interests, which by this time were beginning to be organized. As a natural result the student demand for a real gymnasium was becoming more and more vociferous. As far back as 1868 the University Chronicle had voiced the sentiment in a two-column editorial, in which the writer thus describes the awful state of the University, when the only form of exercise was the opportunity to,—

By 1865 the efforts of the students resulted in a fund of something over $4,000. The Legislature that year almost gave the necessary appropriation for a gymnasium provided[237] the students contributed what they had raised. But the project finally fell through and it was not until 1891, when Joshua W. Waterman, of Detroit, long a patron of sports in the University, offered to give $20,000, provided a like amount be raised from other sources, that the building became assured. Three years later Waterman Gymnasium was at last completed at a cost of $61,876.49 toward which sum private donors had contributed $49,524.34. The $6,000 which the students eventually raised through so many years of effort were used for equipment. The new "gym" was 150 feet long by 90 feet wide, with a running track in the balcony of 14 laps to the mile. These accommodations proved ample for many years; but the recent growth of the student body finally made an increase in space imperative, and in 1916 an extension of 48 feet was added at each end, making the main floor 248 feet long with a ten-lap running track.

The interest in all forms of outdoor athletics, which was developing rapidly by 1890, made an athletic field no less necessary than a gymnasium. The corner of the Campus where the Gymnasium now stands, which, from the earliest days of baseball had been devoted to athletics, was crowded and inconvenient, even for practice games; while the old fair grounds in the southeastern part of the city were not under University control, besides being ill-adapted to college games. The streets and Campus were popular for impromptu games, although the arm of the law was unduly active in the spring, and "the batting of balls" was conspicuously forbidden on a sign which long decorated the south wall of the Museum. The Regents recognized this need of a great playground, however, and purchased what is now the south ten acres of Ferry Field in 1891, though it was not[238] opened to the students until 1893. This went by the name of "Regents' Field" until 1902, when the Hon. D.M. Ferry of Detroit gave an additional twenty-one acres lying between the old field and the University, and furnished funds for the present impressive entrance gates and ticket offices, since which time it has been known by the name of the donor. Subsequent purchases of neighboring property have increased the total to nearly eighty acres. Though this is by no means all in use at present, thirty-eight acres are graded, drained, and enclosed on three sides by a high brick wall. Two great stands, one of concrete, accommodate nearly 25,000 spectators at the "big games," while an attractive club house at one end furnishes accommodations for the players and members of visiting teams.

An effective student athletic organization was only less tardy in making its appearance than the long-awaited gymnasium and athletic field. In contrast to the modern student journals, the earliest files of the Chronicle are distinguished by their exceedingly rare references to athletic events, and then only in a very occasional modest item giving the immodest score of some class contest, such as the baseball game between '71 and '72 on May 29, 1869, when the score ran 50 to 36. Shortly after this time came the first student athletic organization, informally known as the "Baseball Clubs" which became the Baseball Association in 1876. A similar Football Association was organized in 1873 and continued until 1878 when both clubs were merged in the first Athletic Association of the University. This was the organization responsible for the student fund for the Gymnasium. But successful as the new organization proved in financial matters, it soon fell into the almost inevitable desuetude of so many student undertakings and[239] finally, in 1884, fell "victim of the football and baseball teams which it sought to control."

Its successor was the present Athletic Association, organized in 1890 through a consolidation of all the athletic interests in the University. This Association was long maintained almost exclusively by the students whose voluntary membership was marked by a little "athletic button" of varying design, without which no student in good standing with his fellows would be seen. With the establishment of a general athletic fee, or "blanket tax," by the University in 1912, which admitted the student to all athletic events and was paid with the other University fees, and with the growing influence of the Board in Control of Athletics, the character of the Athletic Association gradually changed. However, the organization still continues to elect its officers and Board of Directors, who elect the three student representatives on the Board in Control from a list of six nominated by the Board. The student managers of the athletic teams are now appointed by the coach, the captain of the team and the retiring manager. Since 1899 the general direction of the affairs of the Athletic Association has been in the hands of two men, Charles Baird, '95, who was appointed Graduate Director of Athletics in that year, and Phillip G. Bartelme, a former member of the class of '99, who succeeded him in 1909, and now holds the title of Director of Outdoor Athletics.

The first attempt at organized collegiate sport in the University dates from the time of the Civil War, for it was in 1863 that baseball was first introduced among the students. Two men are given the credit, John M. Hinchman, '62-'65, who had been a member of the Detroit Club, and E.L. Grant, '66, who as a freshman became interested in[240] accounts of the game as it was being played by a few clubs in and around New York. With some of his friends he wrote for information in the spring of 1863, and later ordered bases, balls and clubs, and proceeded to lay out a diamond on the northeast corner of the Campus which was afterward maintained by the University.

Baseball in those days differed considerably from the present game; the pitcher was restricted to an underhand delivery; the catch of a foul bound meant an "out"; strikes were not called; and bases on balls were unknown; while owing to the straight-arm pitching, the batting was much heavier and the scores larger. There was not much of a team in 1863, but the effort resulted in the organization of the first University Baseball Club in the spring of 1864, with Hinchman, who was the catcher, as president and captain. The members of the team had no uniforms and paid their own expenses, as no admission was charged for the games. While the opposing teams and the scores are not on record, the nine was judged highly successful and was very popular. In the fall of 1865 the team defeated Jackson, Ypsilanti, and Dexter and was in turn defeated by a team from Lodi Township near Ann Arbor. General interest in the game was evidently spreading rapidly.

In 1867 the Club was groomed for the championship of the State; student subscriptions were solicited; class nines were formed to give them sufficient practice, and the dignity of white uniforms was at last attained. Finally the team, accompanied by seventy supporters,—it was long before the day of "rooters,"—traveled to Detroit and met the Detroit Champions. The game lasted three hours and a half, included six home runs, and was won by the University with the wholly satisfactory score of 70 to 18, Detroit[241] being unable to hit Blackburn the University pitcher sufficiently, though, judged by modern standards, his record was not exactly a "shut-out." A return game, however, played in the fall resulted in the defeat of the University 36 to 20, while the final game of the series, a year later, ran to eleven innings with the University finally winning 26 to 24. Soon after this the Detroit team disbanded and for some years baseball languished in the University; partly because of the lack of opponents for so redoubtable a nine, and partly because the first enthusiasm for the game had waned. Interest revived somewhat in 1873, but aside from inter-class games the only available opponents were mostly professional clubs from the neighboring towns, who were ordinarily outclassed by the college men. With the abolition of the old straight-arm pitching in 1875 and the calling of strikes established, the extravagant scores began to be materially reduced.

Michigan's first inter-collegiate baseball game was with Wisconsin on May 20, 1882. It was played at Ann Arbor and resulted in a victory 20 to 8. This game came as a result of the formation of an Inter-collegiate Baseball League, composed of Michigan, Wisconsin, Northwestern and Racine, in which the Varsity easily won the championship. Unsatisfactory arrangements for the traveling expenses of the team, however, caused Michigan to withdraw from the League the next year and the nine was forced once more to fall back upon the professional and semi-professional teams in neighboring cities. Oberlin appeared upon the schedule in 1886 and Michigan Agricultural College twice defeated the Varsity the following year. But if these years saw no remarkable schedules, the team was, nevertheless, steadily improving. The fielding average of the '88 team was[242] .908; and though less can be said of the batting, two members, McDonnell, '88, and McMillan, '86-'89, had averages of .448 and .406 respectively. The Chronicle also was jubilant over the financial success of the '88 season which left a surplus of $50 in the treasury, after "elegant new suits" had been purchased.

Confidence in the ability of the team led to the first Eastern trip in 1890, which resulted in a close and exciting 2 to 1 victory over Cornell at Ithaca, May 16. From this time on Cornell and other Eastern colleges appeared with fair regularity in the schedule. Games with Harvard and Yale were arranged in 1891, and every candidate was pledged to strict training after February first under Peter Conway, a famous National League pitcher. The trip resulted in a creditable record; and although the game with Yale was lost 2 to 0, only three hits were scored off the pitcher, Codd, '91, a record for the Varsity almost as welcome as a victory. The game with Harvard, won 4 to 3, was peculiarly satisfying to the tired team, which had already played six games, and had had, in the words of Captain Codd, "as hard a course of training as any University team had, up to that time, ever undergone.... We had given our Eastern antagonists a pretty good 'practice game,'" (the Harvard manager's term). Conditions were reversed the following year when Yale was defeated 3 to 2, but Harvard won 4 to 2. Michigan returned to her Western rivals in 1893 and was almost uniformly successful for several years.

An Eastern trip in 1894 was less fortunate, for it resulted in an unbroken series of defeats from Vermont, Dartmouth, Harvard, Princeton, and Cornell. The spell with Cornell was broken, however, in 1895, when Michigan won a decided victory 11 to 0, at Detroit, and had some revenge[243] for previous defeats. E.C. Shields, '94, '96l, center field and captain of the team that year, has described the winning of this game as the "most satisfactory moment" of his athletic career; the team was the best Michigan had ever had, and the game after the first few innings became a successful struggle on the part of the pitcher, Sexton, '98m, and his team-mates to make it a "shut-out." Since that day Michigan has more than broken even in her games with Cornell.

Baseball at this time was genuinely popular; all of the classes in the Literary Department as well as many in the professional schools had their own teams, which not only gave the Varsity good practice but played in a league among themselves, while the fraternities also had a league of some years' standing. This popularity of the national game was soon to pass, however, with the increasing vogue of football, and it has never regained the pre-eminent place it held in student favor during the period which ended in 1900, though, it has always had many enthusiastic followers.

The year '99 saw an especially strong team, which not only was successful in the West but at least divided honors on the first Eastern trip of some years. Particularly spectacular was the final game with Illinois which won the championship. Michigan had already won two out of three games, but with a victory in the last of the series Illinois saw a chance to claim the Western honors. In the sixth inning Illinois had men on second and third and no one out. Guy Miller, '98, '00l, otherwise known as "Sox," was put in as pitcher, and though he had won a hard game the day before, he struck out the next two batters. The last man was put out easily, and Miller held the rest of the game safely, with a final score of 4 to 2.[244]

Two fairly successful years followed, marked, however, by a uniformly disastrous Eastern trip in 1901. Then followed in 1902 "the most unsuccessful baseball season in years," though the end came with a victory over Cornell, 7 to 4, largely through the efforts of Michigan's greatest all-round athlete, Neil Snow, '02, in the last contest of his athletic career. He was responsible for six of the seven runs, bringing in three men with one three-base hit, while he himself managed to score on a poor throw.

A final defeat from Illinois the following year just missed the championship of the West for Michigan. It is worthy of mention that it was at this game, on which many undergraduate hopes were centered, that the custom of singing "The Yellow and the Blue" in defeat as well as in victory was inaugurated. The Western championship rested with Michigan in 1905 and again in 1906, but this was destined to be the last time for many years. Much of the success of these two teams was due to Frank Sanger, '07l, who was considered the best college pitcher in the West.

With 1907 begins another story. Michigan was now out of the Conference and there began a progressive decline in interest in baseball. Many small colleges soon appeared on the schedules, and in 1908 the South began to figure prominently in the earlier season games. A few games with Eastern colleges relieved the monotony, but the results were far from being always satisfactory. Two interesting games with the Japanese students of Keio University ended the season of 1911. While the University won both games with scores of 20 to 5 and 3 to 1, they demonstrated how apt the Oriental has been in picking up the fine points of the great American game. Some amends for an unsuccessful season were made on June 26, 1912 by a thrilling 2 to 1 victory over[245] Pennsylvania before the thousands of guests and alumni who had gathered to celebrate the University's Seventy-Fifth Anniversary.

The painstaking efforts of Branch Rickey, who had been coach of the team since 1910, and later became manager of the St. Louis American League team, began to show results in 1913. The following year Michigan, in spite of no significant Western games, had some justification for claiming the national championship through victories in two series of games with Cornell and Pennsylvania, the acknowledged leaders of the East. This record was due in no small part to the prowess of one player, George Sisler, '15e, who, from his first season in 1913, showed the extraordinary ability that made him not only Michigan's greatest baseball player but one of the best all-round players in the history of the game. While in the University he alternated as pitcher and left fielder and was captain of the team in 1914. This was the year Carl Lundgren began his successful career as baseball coach. An unexpected weakness in critical games and an unfortunate discussion over professionalism were probably the reasons for the poor success in 1915 of what was essentially an unusually competent team, while a nine composed almost entirely of inexperienced players counted heavily against the 1916 record.

With the declaration of war in the spring of 1917 all forms of athletics were suspended. The value of outdoor sports, as a means of developing the physique of the future soldier, as well as the powers of leadership and co-operation so necessary in military service, was not at first recognized, and only after the baseball and track seasons of 1917 were long past was a more reasonable attitude toward collegiate athletics inaugurated as a result of an earnest plea on the[246] part of the Government that, as far as practicable, they be re-established.

Michigan's return to the Western Conference early in 1918 was marked by her first undisputed baseball championship since 1905, the team winning nine out of ten Conference games played. This record was practically repeated in 1919, the Varsity winning all but one out of a schedule of thirteen games, and that one not with a Conference college. The 1920 season was equally satisfactory.

Football was introduced in the University a few years after the establishment of baseball. The first record of a game appears to be the following notice in the Chronicle of a game played on April 23, 1870.

This was not strictly the first appearance of the game, as the sophomore class in 1866 had secured a football, and the resulting impromptu contests had aroused some patronizing comment in the college paper. But this first effort was short-lived, and the sport went "to a grave too cold by far." That this death was "greatly exaggerated" is suggested by the paragraph quoted. As a matter of fact football steadily grew in favor from that time, although in its earliest years it was by no means the game we know now. There seemed to be no hard and fast rules, at least not according to the Michigan practice of the early '70's. It was largely, or more[247] properly, entirely, a kicking game, with any number up to thirty on a side. This made it particularly popular as a vehicle for class rivalries, and we have record of one game in 1876 in which forty-two sophomores were defeated by eighty-two freshmen, though the result was different when the two sides were equalized in a later contest. The number of participants in class games was not always limited to eleven players as late as 1889-90. The number of goals requisite to win a game also varied, depending upon a previous agreement of the two sides. The popular attitude toward football, and the status of athletics in general is amusingly suggested in the following paragraph which appeared in the Chronicle, October 19, 1872:

By 1872 all four classes had their teams and the four captains formed a loose football organization, which became a Football Association the following year. Modern football, the Rugby game, was introduced in 1876 by Charles M. Gayley, '78, better known to generations of Michigan students as the author of "The Yellow and the Blue," and now Professor of English in the University of California. No inter-collegiate games were played, however, until May 30, 1879, when Michigan defeated Racine at White Stocking Park, Chicago, 7 to 2, in what was probably the first inter-collegiate contest in the West; certainly no game had ever attracted such attention or drew such crowds as this one. I.K. Pond, '79, in after years to be the architect[248] of the Michigan Union, made a touchdown in the first half, and a goal from the field by De Tar; '78, '80m, accounted for the balance of the Varsity's score, while a safety was all that was permitted to Racine. In the autumn of the same year Michigan played a tie game with Toronto at Detroit. Four cars filled with students accompanied the team and demonstrated the growing popularity of the Rugby game. The team fully deserved this support, for the Canadian eleven was more experienced and even the Chronicle acknowledged that they excelled in almost every part of the game. The following fall Michigan won a second game at Toronto, 13 to 0, much to the disgust of the Canadians.

For some time there had been a growing demand for a series of games with Eastern colleges. As a result Michigan's first invasion of the East came in the fall of 1881. The outcome was far from discouraging, in view of the inexperience of the Michigan eleven and the greater interest in the game in the East; for though the Varsity was uniformly defeated, the scores were by no means overwhelming. The game with Harvard was lost 4 to 0, and those with Yale and Princeton, 11 to 0 and 13 to 4.

Inter-collegiate football was dormant the following year, but in November, 1883, a second Eastern trip resulted in another clear demonstration of the greater advantages the game enjoyed in the seaboard colleges. The game with Yale was a decided defeat 46 to 0; but Harvard barely avoided a tie with a 3 to 0 score; Wesleyan won 14 to 6, while the one victory for the West was over Stevens Institute 5 to 1. The Harvard game was the greatest disappointment as Michigan, with a much better team than in the previous game, had hoped for victory. All the circumstances, however, were unfavorable. The only possible schedule called[249] for a game with Yale the preceding day, and a series of new rules were flashed upon the team as the only ones under which the Easterners would play. The game, which was played November 22, was an exceedingly close one, however, and the first half ended with neither side scoring, and most of the play in Harvard's territory. A failure to kick goal following a score by Harvard in the second half still left hope, though Harvard repeatedly saved her goal by kicking. Finally a Harvard man ran out of bounds on Michigan's twenty-five yard line and the ball was thrown out from that point according to the rules then in force. Michigan secured it and by using the one trick play in her repertoire, the time-honored fake run, Prettyman, '85, the manager of the team, started off with Killilea, '85l, as his interference behind him, as the rules then demanded. The opposing full-back was ready for them, but just before the tackle the ball was passed to Killilea, who went on for the touch-down while Prettyman went head-on into the Harvard full-back, calling "down" in accordance with the plan. The Harvard umpire insisted that the ball was "down" where Prettyman had been tackled, and the referee ordered it back to the middle of the field and then called the game on account of darkness. The Michigan team arranged immediately to stay and play another game the next day. But instead of playing, Harvard pleaded faculty interference and paid a $100 forfeit. An eleven that could play Yale one day, Harvard the next, and then be ready for a third game, made a profound impression, however, and created great respect for Western grit and sportsmanship.

After this venture into the lime-light there came several years of comparatively minor games, due largely to the fact that few teams were available as competitors. For many[250] years Albion had a regular place on the schedule and was regularly defeated, save in 1891, when it won for the first and last time. The Chicago University Club, the Windsor Club, the Peninsular Club of Detroit, and Notre Dame were the principal opponents until the first game with Cornell in 1889. The result of this contest, 56 to 0 in favor of Cornell, was discouraging, but in a second game the following year the Varsity managed to score five points against Cornell's twenty. This score came as the result of a long field goal by James Duffy, '92l, who three years previously had won the first Varsity medal for breaking an inter-collegiate record, with a drop-kick of 168 feet 7-1/2 inches, surpassing Yale's previous record of 157 feet, five times before he was satisfied.

A new era in the history of football at Michigan began in 1891, when with a fair schedule and an experienced coach, Frank Crawford (Yale, '91), '93l, the systematic development of a team began; though it was not until several years later that football assumed the undisputed supremacy it now holds as a college sport. Cornell won twice that year and gave Michigan her first experience with "real interference and fast play." Michigan took her first Western trip the following year. The team was coached by Frank Barbour, a classmate of Crawford's at Yale, and for the first time played a complete schedule with the leading universities of the West, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Northwestern, and Chicago, with varying success. The Varsity lost most of her principal games in 1893, Minnesota winning for the last time in twenty-seven years, though a final victory over Chicago, 18 to 10, was some compensation for the earlier defeats.

The autumn of 1894 saw the beginning of a long series[251] of remarkably successful seasons, which lasted with one or two partial relapses until 1906. These twelve years were not only Michigan's "golden age" of football, as far as the game itself is concerned, but also one of the longest series of almost uniformly successful seasons in the history of any of the larger American Universities. It is true that a decisive defeat from Cornell, 22 to 0, marred the early season in 1894, but a second game, 12 to 4, redeemed the record. This was Michigan's first victory over a rival of long standing. The team was a formidable one, equally strong on offense and defense, and included such well-known names in Michigan's football annals as H.M. ("Mort") Senter, '90-'95, m'95-97, end; Gustave H. ("Dutch") Ferbert, '97, end in '94 and later half-back; G.R.F. ("Count") Villa, 96l, tackle; F.W. ("Pa") Henninger, '97, guard; and "Jimmy" Baird, '96, quarter-back. W.L. McCauley, Princeton, '94, who had entered the Medical School, proved his ability as a coach during this and the two succeeding seasons.

Previous to this time there had been little supervision of athletics on the part of the Faculty, and no attention was paid to the composition of the teams or the academic standing of the players. When the general Athletic Association was organized in 1891, an Advisory Board of three non-resident alumni and four Faculty members was established, though at first it had slight influence. The Faculty members were becoming impressed, however, with the significance of the growing interest in athletics all over the country and realized the necessity of some form of effective supervision.

Up to this time there had been no real distinction in the West between professional and amateur. The question came home to Michigan as the result of a disclosure that two men[252] on the 1893 track team were sub-freshmen, not yet in college, although they entered the following fall. The Athletic Board promptly requested the resignation of the captain of the team and published the facts. The Faculty was also aroused. The result was the organization in 1894 of the Board in Control of Athletics, which ordinarily has had the final word in the administration of athletic affairs since that time. It is at present composed of four Faculty representatives, elected by the University Senate, three alumni, appointed by the Regents, three students appointed by the Directors of the Athletic Association, and the Director of Outdoor Athletics.

The year 1894, therefore, aside from the beginnings of a real football team, was important also because it saw the awakening of the Faculty to its responsibility in athletic affairs, and a corresponding growth in the whole University body of higher ideals of inter-collegiate sport, with the University "started fairly and squarely on the road to athletic cleanliness." The movement thus inaugurated resulted in the establishment of the Western Inter-collegiate Conference on February 8, 1896. This is a body composed of representatives from the athletic boards of seven (later ten) leading mid-western Universities, which has aimed from the first, not only to regulate and standardize the conditions of all forms of inter-collegiate athletic competition but also to maintain a high ideal of amateurism in college sports. The formation of this body, which soon came to be the most powerful influence in the West for clean athletics, was due in no small part to President Angell, who was instrumental in calling the first meeting, as well as to Dr. C.B.G. de Nancrède and Professor Albert H. Pattengill, the Michigan representatives at that first meeting. Professor Pat[253]tengill's interest in outdoor sports was lifelong. His was the moving spirit in the Conference through many years; and to him, more than to any other, Michigan owes, not only the present effective organization of athletics, but the securing of Ferry Field and its equipment.

The records of the football teams of 1895 and 1896 were quite overwhelming for those days, 266 points to their opponents' 14 in 1895 and 262 points to 11 the next season. The only disappointments were a 4 to 0 defeat from Harvard in 1895 and a 7 to 6 victory for Chicago in 1896. A season of uninterrupted victories in 1897 was again cut short by a defeat from Chicago 21 to 12 in the last game. Chicago had now come to occupy the chief place on the schedule and the seeds of that rivalry which was later to prove so unfortunate in Western inter-collegiate affairs were already being sown.

An unbroken series of victories marked the 1898 season, with the Championship of the West decided by a thrilling 12 to 11 victory over Chicago. At the end of the first half in this game the score stood 6 to 5,—a touchdown for Michigan and a goal from the field by Chicago's great punter, Herschberger. One of the most spectacular runs in Michigan's football history came in the early part of the second half when C.H. Widman, a freshman, broke through between left end and tackle, ran down the field sixty yards, broke away from the Chicago full-back, and squirmed across the remaining five yards for a touchdown. Chicago's subsequent touchdown made the score a close one but left the championship, the first in three years, with Michigan. The center on this team, W.R. Cunningham, '99m, was Michigan's first player on an All-American Team.

This team had been coached by a number of the older players, a system that was followed again in 1899, but with[254] no brilliant success. A change came in 1900 when Langdon Lea, of Princeton, took charge. He instituted some revolutionary changes and insisted on the fundamentals of the game,—always the weak point of Western football. The season, however, was not a great success, and in the final game with Chicago, Coach Stagg, with his famous "whoa-back" formation, was able to take advantage of Michigan's weakness in backing up the tackles, and won with a score of 15 to 16.

The record for the following year was very different. Fielding H. Yost, who received his football training at the University of West Virginia and Lafayette, was called to Michigan from Stanford and entered upon his long and successful career as Michigan's football coach. Not only has he proved himself time and again a master of football strategy, but his insistence on the highest ideals of sportsmanship has been one of the strongest factors in the development of clean athletics at Michigan.

The new coach undeniably had good material to work with in his first team. Most of the men comprising it had been well trained in the finer points of the game by his predecessor and included such exceptional players as Captain Hugh White, '02l, tackle; Curtis Redden, '03l, end; Neil Snow, '02, full-back; Harrison S. ("Boss") Weeks, '02l, quarter; and Everett Sweeley, '03, half-back; while to this list were added that year Martin Heston, '04l, one of the greatest backs in the history of the game; the center, George Gregory, '04l; and the old reliable guard Dan McGugin, '04l. This team under Yost's astute and resourceful direction proved invincible, and became one of the greatest elevens in the history of football. Whether it could have dealt successfully with the Eastern champions will always be a question, but it[255] certainly found little effective opposition in the West; for the final record showed an uninterrupted succession of victories with not a point scored against the team. The total tells the story, 550 points to 0; with the University of Buffalo beaten by the extraordinary score of 128 to 0. The final game of the season was played with Stanford at Pasadena, California, on New Year's Day, 1902. The quality of the team was shown by the fact that they won by a score of 49 to 0 in spite of the fact that they had been in training for four months, and left Michigan in zero weather to play in what was to them a summer heat. Snow was given a place that year on Caspar Whitney's All-American Team, while Walter Camp selected Snow, Weeks, Heston, and Bruce Shorts, '01l (tackle), for the All-Western team.

Except for the fact that the eleven was scored upon twice, once by Case and once by Minnesota, the record in 1902 was much the same as in 1901, 644 points to their opponents' 12.

Although there were many changes in the team the following year, there was a consistent development of team-work, which, combined with Heston's extraordinary ability in carrying the ball, enabled Michigan to go through the season with only one score against the team, in a tie game with Minnesota. The 1904 team, though it was scored upon three times, was also uniformly victorious under the leadership of Heston, who was twice given a place on Camp's All-American, as well as his All-Time All-American team chosen in 1910. The 1905 Championship passed to Chicago, however, though the team was scored upon only by the two points which lost Michigan the final game with Chicago. This defeat came as a result of an error in judgment which cost Michigan a safety instead of the touch-back that might[256] easily have changed defeat into at least a tie. The following men composing this team were very generally selected for All-Western honors; Thomas S. Hammond, '06l, half-back; Joseph S. Curtis, '07e, tackle; and Henry F. Schulte, '07, guard, who were members of the 1903 and 1904 elevens, and Adolph ("Germany") Schulz, e'04-09, center. Not a little credit for the record of this team must also be given to the captain, Fred S. Norcross, '06e, while John C. Garrels, '07e, end, destined to hold a record only second to Niel Snow, as an all-round athlete, and Walter ("Octy") Graham, '08e, who proved extraordinarily active at end and later at guard, in spite of his 215 pounds, first won their "M's" as players on the 1905 eleven.

Meanwhile a change had come in Michigan's relations with the other universities composing the Western Inter-collegiate Conference which eventually led to her withdrawal from that body, and brought to an end for some twelve years all competition with her natural rivals in the West. This action applied to all forms of inter-collegiate sport, but the agitation centered almost exclusively about football and may therefore be properly mentioned in this place. For some years there had been developing throughout the country a powerful opposition to inter-collegiate football which began with the introduction of the Rugby game. The old-time open game had been replaced by powerful mass-plays, dangerous to limb and even to life. The conditions under which the "big games" were played had little reference to wholesome college life, the essential amateur spirit was fast disappearing, rivalries were becoming bitter, as was the case between Michigan and Chicago, and in fact the whole academic spirit was threatened by the exaggerated emphasis on this one phase of college sport.[257]

Michigan took the initiative for a reform, through a letter from President Angell, calling for a meeting of representatives of the leading Western universities in Chicago in January, 1906. All the institutions represented at this meeting were unanimous in the feeling that drastic measures were necessary; Wisconsin even asked for the abandonment of the game for two years. The result was a series of demands for fundamental reforms, including the abolition of the training table and excessive gate receipts, a modification of the professional coaching system, and finally a provision that no freshmen should be allowed to take part in inter-collegiate contests, and that no student should participate more than three seasons.

This action was a bomb-shell whose fragments disrupted the student and alumni bodies of all the Western Conference colleges. Criticism became intense, but eventually all the nine Conference colleges accepted the new rules with certain amendments except Michigan, where a four-year contract with Yost made special difficulties. The student body and many alumni felt aggrieved at a clause in the new rules which made the three-year playing rule retroactive, thereby barring out several of the most prominent players, including Garrels, after their junior year. They therefore demanded that Michigan sever her relations with the West and seek her future opponents among Eastern universities. Implicit in the whole discussion also was the question as to whether the Faculty was to have the last word in the control of athletics. This was the fundamental demand of the Conference, while the effective opinion at Michigan favored a broader control by students, Faculty and alumni, in which the final decision was to rest with the Board of Regents. This view was accepted by the Regents; changes were made in the or[258]ganization of the Board in Control of Athletics which limited the authority of the Faculty, and Michigan, by simply refusing to abide by certain of the rules of the Conference, automatically ceased to be a member in 1908. For twelve years, 1906 to 1918, Michigan put to the test the conviction of the students and many alumni that Michigan could find satisfactory opponents elsewhere than in the Conference. The result was not encouraging, for on the whole these were lean years. The football schedules proved unsatisfactory and though Michigan won her share of games, interest and enthusiasm waned correspondingly, while the baseball and track teams suffered even more. Henceforth the principal opponents were Pennsylvania, Cornell, Syracuse, and for a time Vanderbilt.

During the seasons of 1907 and 1908 the team was defeated in the principal games, though one player, Schulz, not only won a place on Camp's All-American team in 1907, but was also the second Michigan player chosen on his All-Time All-American. Things went a little better in 1909 and 1910. Pennsylvania was finally defeated and Minnesota, who appeared temporarily on the schedule for two seasons, as a result of her desire to play Michigan and her own dissatisfaction with the Conference, was twice defeated and Michigan was able to claim the rather empty honor of an unacknowledged Championship of the West. Albert Benbrook, '11e, guard on these two teams, was given an All-American position by Walter Camp.

For the first time since 1894 Cornell appeared on the schedule in 1911 and defeated the Varsity, but lost in turn the following year; a record for the two years which was just reversed with Pennsylvania. Both teams were decisively defeated in 1913 and Pennsylvania again in 1914, but a[259] game with Harvard on Soldiers' Field in 1914 resulted in an honorable defeat for Michigan with a score of 7 to 0. Though Harvard had not been particularly effective up to that time the Michigan team made a strong impression, and John Maulbetsch, '17p, left-half, was placed on practically every All-American team as a result of his work in this game. The unsatisfactory basis under which Michigan was maintaining her relationship with the East was shown, however, by Harvard's unwillingness to play a return game in Ann Arbor the following year. This was perhaps fortunate as events turned out, for Michigan was unusually weak in 1915 and the 1916 record was not much better, with defeats from both Cornell and Pennsylvania.

Ever since Michigan had taken her stand on the Conference, there had been vigorous discussion, but the unanimous approval necessary for a return was absent. The unfortunate end of the 1917 football season, however, led to a renewal of the discussion. Eventually the Board in Control passed a resolution giving the Faculty, as represented by the Senate Council, a veto over the actions of the Board. This was eventually approved by the Regents and the way was open to resume athletic relationship with the universities of the West in the fall of 1917.

Though the ban on inter-collegiate athletics which followed the declaration of war in April, 1917, had been raised before the 1917 football season at the urgent plea of the War Department, the team was seriously weakened by the enlistment of many of its best players. This happened everywhere, however, and Michigan came through the schedule with fair success, though defeated by Northwestern in the one Conference game of that year. But in 1918 war-time conditions were felt more severely, particularly in the[260] general disorganization incident to the S.A.T.C. régime, while the ravages of the influenza epidemic multiplied the difficulties. Nevertheless Michigan managed to survive the season not only undefeated but with some claims to the Western Championship. The record in 1919 was very different, however, with defeats in all the Conference games played save with Northwestern, a disgrace which was at least partially retrieved by the 1920 eleven, which lost a hard-fought battle with Illinois by the honorable score of 6 to 7 and won from Chicago, 14 to 0, and Minnesota, 3 to 0.

Though informal running, jumping, and hurdling matches as well as wrestling and boxing always had a certain degree of popularity among the students, track athletics, as a form of inter-collegiate sport, was not organized until football and baseball had been recognized for some time. A University Athletic Club was organized in 1874, with the captains of the running and jumping squads among the officers, though no public contests were held, apparently, until 1876 when the first "athletic tournament" took place on the Fair Grounds. This was followed in June, 1879, by the first Field Day, with the 100-yard and 220-yard dashes, standing long jump, baseball throw, ten-mile walk, and a fencing contest among the principal events. The next year saw two such tournaments, under the auspices of the Football and Baseball Associations respectively. The merchants of Ann Arbor gave prizes for these contests, some contributing medals, while one firm gave two boxes of cigars and another "the best hat in the store."

By 1884 the program became very elaborate, some twenty events were scheduled with records of one hour and 51 minutes for the ten-mile walk, 26-1/2 minutes for the three-mile walk, and 2.33 for the half-mile run. Such events as[261] a standing jump backwards, a three-legged race, and passing the football and punting also found place on the programme, which was concluded by a Rugby match. Particular interest was taken at this time in running, and it is told by one of the members of the football team that almost defeated Harvard in 1883 that an impromptu race at Buffalo, while they were waiting for a train, went a long way toward defraying the expenses of some of the men, who were paying their own way. The outstanding track athlete of the day was Fred M. Bonine, '86m, whose record in sprints led Michigan to enter the Inter-collegiate Athletic Association, where he won the 100-yard dash in 10-3/4 seconds at New York in 1885. This was Michigan's first and last effort for some years; and track athletics had a fluctuating career until the Northwestern Inter-collegiate Athletic Association, composed of Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Northwestern, was organized in 1893. The first Field Day of this organization was held June 3, 1893, with Michigan the winner with 52 points against 45 for Wisconsin, her closest competitor. Michigan did not again win first honors until 1898, and then, after taking third place in 1899, she held the Championship banner for five successive seasons, 1900 to 1904, and once more in 1906. During this period the Varsity was also very generally winning dual meets with Cornell, Wisconsin, and Illinois, though she lost to Chicago in 1901 and 1902. Michigan also won the four-mile relay race at the Pennsylvania Relay Meet for six successive years, 1903 to 1908, and made the best record of any university entered in the track events scheduled at the same time.

After 1906 the Eastern Inter-collegiate Meet necessarily came to hold first place in the schedule, and here also Michigan always made a creditable record though never succeed[262]ing in taking first place. The team returned in 1907 with second honors, and then held third place for five successive years, 1910 to 1914, with Pennsylvania, Yale, and Cornell usually leading in different years. The Varsity fell behind, however, in 1915 and 1916. Owing to war-time conditions no meets were held in 1917, but Michigan's return to the Conference fold was marked by two successive Western Championships in 1918 and 1919.

This long and honorable record in field sports has been made possible by consistent encouragement of well-rounded teams in which all branches were carefully developed, through the extraordinary ability of Keene Fitzpatrick, perhaps the greatest athletic trainer and track coach in the country. His acceptance of a similar position at Princeton in 1911 was a great loss to Michigan, where he had served for sixteen years.

As early as 1897 Michigan held several Western records. The first of Michigan's all-round athletes was John F. McLean, '00, who not only won regularly the hurdles and broad jump, equaling or bettering the Western records, but was also half-back on the football team. Charles Dvorak, '01, '04l, also held the Western record in the pole vault, while Archie Hahn, '04l, speedily developed into one of the country's greatest sprinters, equaling several times the world's record in the 100-yard dash of 9-4/5 seconds, which still stands. He returned to the University in 1920 as trainer of the various athletic teams. Neil Snow also completed in 1902 his remarkable record of eleven out of a possible twelve "M's" open to him, by tying with another Michigan man, Barrett, in the high jump at the Conference Meet, and taking second in the shotput. Nelson A. Kellogg, '04, came decidedly to the fore in 1901 in the long-distance runs, and[263] ended his college career with a record of 9.57-1/2 in the two-mile.

The organization of a Cross Country Club in 1901 was directly responsible for the long list of relay victories at Philadelphia. The 1905 team, composed of H.P. Ramey, '07e; H.L. Coe, '08e; I.K. Stone, '05; and Floyd A. Rowe, '08e, set the world's record for the four-mile and lowered it again in 1906 to 18 minutes 10-2/5 seconds, while the individual members of this team were almost invariably to be counted on as point winners in every meet.

John C. Garrels, '07e, is also to be reckoned among the great all-round athletes; not only was he one of the best men on the football team but he was a consistent winner in all the track meets, taking first in both hurdles and second in the shotput at the Eastern Inter-collegiate in 1907. Among more ephemeral stars of this period was Ralph Rose, who remained in college just long enough to set the record in 1904 for the hammer throw at 158 feet 3 inches and for the shotput at 47 feet 3 inches. The records of two men, Ralph Craig, '11, and Joseph Horner, '11, were the striking features of the next few seasons, Craig winning the two dashes in the Eastern Inter-collegiate in 1911, equaling the record in both, while Horner won first in the discus, second in the shotput, hammer throw and broad jump, and third in the high jump. Harold L. Smith, '16, also won the two dashes in 1915 and took a first and a second the following year, almost equaling Craig's record.

Michigan's two Conference Championships in 1918 and 1919 were assured by the extraordinary ability of Carl Johnson, '20, who took three firsts in 1918 and four in 1919, breaking his own record with a broad jump of 24 feet 1 inch, setting a new record for the high jump of 6 feet 2-1/4[264] inches and winning both hurdles, thus gaining 20 of Michigan's 41-1/2 points, a performance never equaled in a major inter-collegiate contest.

The particular favor with which football, baseball, and track athletics have always been regarded has not prevented a healthy interest in other sports. Though cricket and wicket died somewhere about 1872, for the Chronicle remarked in 1875 that not "even the ghost of a cricket bat" had been seen for two years, and football "was in its decline," baseball was exceedingly popular and a general interest in boating was developing which promised to "equal if not supplant it in popular favor." Shells were purchased, entertainments for the new Boating Association were given, and for a time the new sport flourished. But the nautical resources of the Huron and Whitmore Lake were all too slender and after a few years the enthusiasm died, though occasionally talk of a Varsity crew springs up.

Tennis came into vogue about 1880. An Association was established as early as 1883 and we have it, once more on the Chronicle's carefully qualified authority, that "athletics in general have given way to lawn tennis to a certain extent." The Tennis Association was merged, with the other separate athletic bodies, into the general Athletic Association in 1890, and by 1897 when Michigan first participated in the Western Inter-collegiate tennis matches, the members of the team were awarded the Varsity letter. Henry T. Danforth, '03; H.P. Wherry, '03; R.G. St. John, '06l, and Reuben G. Hunt, '06l, were members of the four teams which led the West in the years from 1901 to 1904, the last championship until 1919, when Walter Wesbrook, '21, captured the singles, and with Nicholas Bartz, Jr., '20, the doubles at Chicago.[265]

The return to the Conference also gave a great impetus to the development of basket ball as a major sport. Though Michigan's first teams have not been remarkably successful, the players are now awarded the Varsity "M," and interest in the contests is growing rapidly, partly because the game itself is fast and exciting, demanding even greater quickness and stamina than football, and partly because the season fills in the interval between the end of the football and the opening of the baseball and track seasons in the spring. A swimming team has also been organized under a competent coach, but it is probable that no great progress will be made until the completion of the tanks in the Union and the Gymnasium.

The women of the University have not been far behind the men in the development of athletics. Not only have they always been loyal supporters of the University in inter-collegiate contests, but they have their own organized athletic interests which have been no small factor in the development of the distinctive life of the women in the University. This has come largely through Barbour Gymnasium, completed in 1897, and the Palmer Athletic Field for women, which was purchased some twelve years later.

The Gymnasium, as its name implies, was largely made possible through a gift of property in Detroit valued at $25,000, by the Hon. Levi L. Barbour, '63, '65l, of Detroit, Regent of the University from 1892 to 1898, and from 1902 to 1907. The building eventually cost $41,341.76, and includes not only the gymnasium proper, 100 by 90 feet, completely equipped, but also two large parlors and a series of offices, the headquarters of the Women's League, as well as a small auditorium and stage above, seating about 600 persons, named in honor of the President's wife "Sarah Caswell[266] Angell Hall." Palmer Field was made possible through two gifts, the first of $1,500 from the Hon. Peter White, Regent from 1904 to 1908, and the second of $3,000 from ex-Senator T.W. Palmer, '49, of Detroit. It comprises a rolling six-acre tract, just south of the Observatory, and therefore within easy walking distance of the Gymnasium.

These gifts not only ensured systematic physical training for University women, but also quickly led to a broader interest in sports for women, as is shown by the pictures of three women's basket-ball teams in the 1903 Michiganensian. Since that time there has been a continuous and consistent development under competent instruction, with special emphasis placed on basket ball and such outdoor sports as cross-country walking, hockey, baseball, tennis, swimming, and archery, all of which are supported by a Women's Athletic Association. During the war also a drill company was organized under officers of the S.A.T.C.

In closing this review of the development of athletics in the University it may not be amiss to emphasize the fact that the present status of collegiate sport is not without its inconsistencies and dangers. There is real peril for mens sana in an overdeveloped corpore sano. The general and healthy interest in all forms of outdoor sport of earlier days has been all but lost in this era of specialization. Nowadays the Varsity team too often is far from being the apex of a pyramid whose foundations lie in a widely distributed and wholesome interest in sports for their own sake. Too often we have the spectacle of high-school students coming to our universities with their careers all made for them, because of their ability in athletics, bringing with them a spirit of professionalism utterly foreign to university ideals. And yet all this has come as a natural result of the heritage of[267] the American college student, of enterprise, resourcefulness, and love of outdoor life and sports.

The ideal, of course, is a general participation of all students in some form of outdoor games, and toward this those who have the best interest of inter-collegiate athletics at heart are working. A Department of Intramural Athletics has been established for some time, which seeks to develop a general interest in all kinds of sport;—tennis, for which Ferry Field is admirably equipped with eighteen courts, boxing, gymnastics, swimming, cross-country running, hockey, indoor baseball and hand-ball, to say nothing of an increasing emphasis on class and fraternity football, base-ball, and basket-ball teams.

The difficulty which faces those who seek to develop this programme to its utmost lies in the attitude of many students and alumni, whose sole interest in the University is to see that she maintains winning teams. They fail to see that there is more in the annual "big game" than nine or eleven supreme athletes brought together to "represent" the University. Fortunately there are many more who view the whole question in its proper perspective, men who are no less thrilled by the contagious enthusiasm of the annual big games, and who recognize them as an inevitable and not undesirable factor in our college life, but who seek to bring athletics into a sane and wholesome relationship with the academic life of our universities. That is the principal consideration which underlies all the discussions which have arisen in the past and which are inevitable in the future,—as long as American youth, on the one hand, maintains its vigorous and enterprising spirit, and our universities, on the other hand, insist on their prerogative as institutions where fundamentally the things of the spirit must rule.

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[268]

CHAPTER XII

TOWN AND CAMPUS

It was a happy stroke of fortune that fixed Ann Arbor as the location of the University of Michigan. A literal interpretation of history may suggest that politics and speculation had their share in the selection of the site, but these factors might have operated quite as easily in favor of some other Michigan village. The fact remains that Ann Arbor was chosen. This assured to the University an individuality and an opportunity for self-realization that might have been lost if a town destined to a more rapid expansion had been selected. It has given Michigan a special character among most of the larger American universities and has had a vital influence on the development of the institution, which has grown proportionately far more than the town. The result has been that Ann Arbor has become one of the most attractive academic centers in the country, with a distinctive charm in her homes and shady streets, that strikes the visitor no less than the beauty of its location and the dignity of many of its public buildings.

Ann Arbor lies in the rolling country of Southern Michigan, thirty-eight miles west of Detroit, in the quietly picturesque valley of the Huron River. The University and a good part of the present town lie upon the top and slopes of a gentle hill which falls away to the valley levels on all sides except toward the northeast. From this situation arises one of the characteristic features of Ann Arbor; the ever-present glimpses of distant hills covered with rolling farm lands and[269] woodlots, toward which almost any of the longer streets lead the eye.

At the time the University was established the flow of immigration from the East was at high tide. Ann Arbor had already become one of the progressive and settled communities of the new State; but farther to the West other districts were constantly being opened and towards them a steady stream of settlers pressed on. One of the early inhabitants of Ann Arbor has given us a picture from his boyhood memories, of the long line of wagons filled with household goods and drawn by horses and oxen, which sometimes stretched along the pike as far as the eye could reach. The men who drove these wagons and the women who rode above with the youngest of their little families were not adventurers; they were essentially home-seekers. Their strong fiber was shown by their energy and courage in seeking thus to better their condition in this new country, which at last had in prospect means of communication with the seaboard states through the Erie Canal and the railroads soon to be built. It was settlers with this stuff in them who gave to the University of Michigan the support that spelled success instead of the failure which had attended many similar efforts.

The very name, Ann Arbor, recalls an idyll of pioneer life. It sketches in a picture that is no doubt more charming than the bitter mid-winter reality faced by the first two families, whose tents were pitched in a burr-oak grove beside a little stream flowing toward the nearby Huron. John Allen of this party, a vigorous young Virginian, was the driving force which first turned the tide of settlement toward Ann Arbor. By chance, on his way West, he met E.W. Rumsey and his wife in Cleveland and induced them to come[270] with him to Michigan. They drove overland and arrived at the site of their future home some time in February, 1824. A tent and sled box set over poles with blankets for sides formed the first dwelling, and here some months later Allen welcomed his wife, whose name was Ann. Mrs. Rumsey's name also happened to be the same, and when in the spring the grape vines spread their leaves over the neighboring trees, these first settlers found a little natural arbor, which they called, doubtless at first in jest, "Ann's Arbor." The name persisted, however, and it was formally adopted by general acclamation at a celebration held on the fourth of July, 1825, when some three hundred persons sat down to a dinner at Rumsey's coffee-house. So far had civilization progressed in a little over a year. By that time there were nine log houses in the little settlement, which had already begun to take its place as one of the way-stations in the general tide of westward travel. For some time, however, communication with Detroit was difficult, and it was not until two years before the University was opened that the long-awaited railroad actually reached Ann Arbor. Therefore, for many years the little settlement had to be largely self-supporting. Such water power as the Huron could furnish was quickly developed; sawmills, gristmills, and a little later, woolen mills arose at favorable sites, the ruins of which are still to be seen where the relics of the dams now serve as hazards for the venturesome paddler.

The first tendency of the inhabitants was to settle on the rise above the little stream; known as Allen's Creek, which furnished the water supply for the earliest pioneers. This rivulet, practically hidden nowadays, runs through the city on a course roughly parallel with the Ann Arbor Railroad tracks. The site of the burr-oak grove and the original[271] encampment was almost certainly on the hillside on the south side of Huron Street, a block or so west of Main Street. This was reported to be an old dancing ground of the Pottawatomies, and an Indian trail used to run to the Huron along the stream. Rumsey built a log cabin on this spot immediately and established in it a resting-place for travelers, known far and wide as the Washtenaw Coffee House. The second building was erected by Allen on higher ground at what is now the corner of Huron and Main streets. It was painted a bright red and the place for some time went by the name of "Bloody Corners." At one time the two apartments of the little log house held fourteen men and twenty-one women and children, divided into family groups by the simple expedient of hanging blankets. In what seems now an incredibly short time life was moving in organized channels. A store was opened in September, and others soon followed; more buildings were erected; a physician or two swelled the population; in a little over two years a county court was established; and finally, in 1833, the village was incorporated.

For many years the little town was divided into two separate districts by the Huron River, and a determined effort arose to make the section on the north side the main business and residential quarter. This was not to be; though the old business blocks still stand across the Broadway bridge, and many of the finer homes of that period, now falling into decay, remain on the hills along the turnpikes to Plymouth and Pontiac.

It was probably not until the location of the University was fixed that the center of Ann Arbor's population began, very slowly at first, to turn to the south and east, and mounted the slopes of the hill upon which the University[272] stands. Certain it is that for years the Campus was practically in the country, and only gradually did the dwellings of the townspeople rise in the neighborhood. Aside from the University there was nothing east of State Street, except an old burying ground and one dwelling, occupied by the ubiquitous Pat Kelly, whose freedom of the agricultural privileges of the Campus made him quite as important a financial factor of the community as the members of the Faculty he served.

To the north was a district known as the "commons." Professor Ten Brook tells how he was accustomed every Sunday morning on his way to church in lower town, to strike across this open place to the ravine just west of the present hospital buildings up which Glen Avenue now passes. Coming out on Fuller Street, the river road, he passed the old Kellogg farmhouse, the only home until within a few blocks of the church across the river. Lower town was but little smaller then than in these days; it had its own schools as well as churches and when Ann Arbor received a city charter in 1851 it held aloof for some time. The original settlement about the Court-House Square extended no further to the west than Allen's Creek for many years, while there was little to the south of the present William Street save scattered farmhouses and a large brickyard.

In the beginning Ann Arbor was solely a farming community, a character it retained essentially until the increasing number of manufacturing plants in recent years has somewhat changed its aspect. The first inhabitants were almost entirely New Englanders, true Yankees in faith, resourcefulness, and business enterprise. But it was not long before immigrants of another type began to arrive; South Germans, who had left their native land to seek homes in the[273] freer religious and political atmosphere of the new world. They speedily became an important factor in the growth of the town, as the business names on Main Street nowadays show; almost all borne by descendants of the early German settlers, who have for the most part identified themselves wholly with their new home. This was revealed by the recent war. While there were some who, through a sentimental attraction for the home of their fathers, stimulated by the unscrupulous efforts of Germany's representatives, were actively pro-German in their sympathies or at least violently torn between their love for the old home and loyalty to the new land, there were many others, probably the majority, who were out and out loyalists on every occasion, and who by spoken word and action proved their unhyphenated Americanism. The brave record of the Ann Arbor men in the Civil War, and in France a half century later, where several of foreign parentage lost their lives, is ample proof of the solid qualities in this element among Ann Arbor's first inhabitants.

Whatever their parentage or creed, the dwellers in the little double community saw to it from the first that, at least in some measure, the religious and intellectual needs of the people were satisfied. There is evidence that occasional religious services were held in 1825, but the first church, the Presbyterian, was not established until August, 1826. For some years it was migratory in its meeting places, passing from a log schoolhouse to a room in "Cook's" hotel and finally in 1829 to the first church built in Ann Arbor, an unpainted log structure 25 by 35 feet on the site of the present church on Huron Street. The other denominations quickly followed this example and by 1844 there were six churches to serve the needs of the 3,000 inhabitants of the[274] village, as well as the surrounding countryside, including the first Lutheran church for the German-speaking settlers in Michigan.

The journalist also appeared on the scene in this prologue to the drama of the University's history. Less than six years after the arrival of the first settlers, the first number of the Western Emigrant appeared on October 18, 1829. Like all country journals of that period it was far more interested in national politics and even foreign affairs than local events; any one who searches for a chronicle of the daily life of those times finds scant reward in the columns of these papers. Even so important an event as the first meeting of the Regents is dismissed with a brief paragraph which throws no light on many interesting questions raised by the official report of that gathering. Yet such slender sheets as this, which eventually became the State Journal, and its Democratic contemporary, the Argus, established in 1835, furnish a picture of the life of those times in unexpected ways that would greatly surprise their editors, whose duty, as they saw it, was chiefly to guide the political opinions of their readers by strong and biting editorials, by long reports of legislative actions and by publishing the speeches of the political leaders of their party. The enterprise and industry of the community shows up well in advertisements, where every form of trade suitable for such a growing community found representation. One merchant advertised some 125 packages of fine dress goods from the East in a long and alluring list anticipating the great celebration over the arrival of the railroad; another firm, whose specialty was "drugs, paints, oils, dye-stuffs, groceries," offered its wares "for cash or barter, as cheap if not cheaper than they can be procured west of Detroit." Cook's "Hotel" announced[275] a few years later that it had been "greatly enlarged and fitted up in a style equal to any Public House in the place," and that its location in the public square was "one of the most pleasant and healthy in Ann Arbor." The editor of the Argus in 1844 revealed the secrets of his business office in the following double-column notice:

Professional ethics was not quite so tender a subject in those days as it is at present, for John Allen announces in 1835 that he maintains a law office for the convenience of his clients where he may be sought in consultation, while "Doct. S. Denton," whose subsequent standing as Regent and Professor was unquestioned, announces on April 2, 1835, that he

It is noticeable also that even at this time, ten years after the village was founded, the spelling, "Ann Arbour," is followed in numerous places while the Argus in its headline gives it, "Ann-Arbor," with a hyphen.

As with religion and politics, as represented by the newspapers of the day, so with education. It is not improbable that one of that group of nine log cabins which was Ann Arbor in 1825 housed a primary school; certainly a school taught by Miss Monroe was under way that year at the corner of Main and Ann streets. This was at first a private venture and was housed in various places, but in 1829 it was[276] finally moved into a brick building,—on the jail lot, of all places!—and became a public enterprise. The children in the community were all small in those days—there were only 141 children between five and fifteen years in 1839—and it was not for some years that a need for secondary schools was felt.

The first academy was established in 1829 where Greek and Latin and the "higher branches of English education" were taught. This was soon discontinued, to be succeeded by an academy in the rude building which served the Presbyterian Church. Although this particular school was short-lived, its successor soon came to be known as the best in the territory and numbered the sons of many prominent Detroit families among its pupils. Several schools came in 1835, including an experiment some distance out what is now Packard Street, known as the Manual Labor School, in which the pupils paid a part or the whole of their expenses by daily farm work.

The Misses Page also maintained for many years a very "genteel" young ladies' seminary, long reckoned a most substantial and worthy school, where not only the classics, moral philosophy, and literature were taught, but also heraldry,—an eminently useful branch in a pioneer community! The lower town district as well was not without its schools and an academy. Provision was also made for pre-collegiate training during the first years of the University. So it would appear that on the whole Ann Arbor was well provided with schools from its earliest days.

The discontinuance of elementary work in the University, however, and a consolidation of the schools of the two districts finally led to the establishment of the Union High School in 1853. The first building was erected at a cost of[277] $32,000 on the present site of the High School and was opened to students in 1856, while most of the ward buildings were built during the sixties. Close association with the University undoubtedly strengthened the Ann Arbor schools, and the High School soon became, in practice, a preparatory school for the University, particularly after the organic connection between University and schools through the diploma system became effective. This enabled the Ann Arbor High School to become one of the best secondary schools of the State with an attendance for many years far exceeding the normal enrolment in other cities of the same population.

While the townspeople have always shown their pride in the University and their interest in its welfare, Ann Arbor has not escaped entirely the traditional rivalries between town and gown. The village had a flourishing civic and commercial life before the first students came; even after it was established, the University for years was comparatively small and made no great place for itself in local affairs, as one may easily surmise by the rare references to it in the early newspapers. The members of the Faculty, however, were welcomed from the first as leaders in the community, though perhaps less can be said for the students, whose irrepressible spirits often led them to carry things with a high hand. Nor was the younger element in the town blameless. The result was an occasional crisis which was sometimes serious.

The indignation meeting of the citizens over the modification of the building program, as well as the similarly expressed support given the students in the fraternity struggle of 1850, were mentioned in the first chapter, and evidence a more cordial entente than is suggested by a serio-comic squabble in 1856 between the students and the Teutonic ele[278]ment in the town, long known as the "Dutch War." The original trouble appears to have started in this case with the students, though it was probably the outgrowth of old animosities between them and the rougher and foreign elements in the town. For, despite vigorous efforts on the part of the President and Faculty to enforce the law against the sale of liquor to undergraduates, many student difficulties were to be traced to popular downtown resorts maintained largely by the German inhabitants. On this occasion the trouble started at "Hangsterfer's," in an altercation between two students, who were making themselves unpleasant, and the proprietor of the place. The next night the students returned in force and demanded free drinks, and, upon their being refused, precipitated a general mêlée in which clubs were used and even knives were drawn. In the end, the unfortunate owners were chased to the outskirts of town by the uproarious students.

Bad feeling followed this episode and one night six uninvited students broke into a ball at "Binders's," where they surreptitiously helped themselves to the refreshments—presumably liquid. One of them was captured and only released after planks had been brought to batter down the brick walls of the building and a squad of medical students, armed with muskets, had arrived on the scene. Warrants were sworn out for the six the next day, but the officers were foiled by exchanges of clothing, by the culprits never eating in the same place twice, by their substituting for one another in recitations with the tacit approval, apparently, of their instructors, and by concealment in the Observatory, or, in the case of three of them, in a Regent's house. Finally two students were sent down to the scene of the battle to buy liquor, and with this as evidence, a sufficient case against[279] the proprietor was secured to induce him to withdraw his complaints. This ended the "war."

Equally objectionable to the Ann Arbor citizens, though more excusable perhaps, was the standing protest of the students at the condition of the wooden sidewalks in the town, whose improvement apparently formed no part of the programme for civic betterment on the part of the good but conservative burghers. The students therefore constantly took matters in their own hands and about once in so often the offending rickety planks went up in flames. The class of '73 thus celebrated after its examinations in the spring of 1870. Their raid on the sidewalks had been unusually comprehensive and the city fathers became thoroughly aroused. Arrests were threatened, and serious trouble was certain, when Acting President Frieze settled the matter by paying the $225 damages out of his own slenderly lined pocket. This the offending class eventually made up to him by laying a tax upon its members, doubtless to the great disgust of the innocent ones, "who thought bad form had been displayed somewhere." This experience, however, by no means ended the practice, which continued down to the present day of flag and cement. The Chronicle once even took occasion to point out certain places where—

The local police force has always been fair game for the students, a position "he" (to use the long-standing quip) did not always appreciate. Gatherings of students[280] in the streets were at one time looked upon with great disfavor, while the daily "rushes" at the old post-office, before the days of carrier delivery, were particularly prolific sources of trouble. The office before 1882 was especially inconvenient, and when the officers, warned by previous trouble, proposed to allow students to enter only one at a time, which meant that many would go without their mail, a disturbance threatened at once, and several were arrested. The next night matters proved even more serious; the fire-bell called out the state militia, who charged with fixed bayonets and wounded several persons. A dozen students were jailed indiscriminately but no one could be found to prefer charges the following morning. Suits for false imprisonment were brought against the city and mayor but were eventually discontinued on the advice of Judge Cooley.

In November, 1890, even more serious trouble arose following another series of arrests for post-office "rushing." During the evening sounds of rifle shots were heard, and the students, already excited, scented more trouble. They gathered in a great crowd in front of the house where the firing had occurred but found that it was only a wedding celebration. Then, with characteristic good nature, they called for a speech, but their intentions were misinterpreted, and when the militia, who had attended the wedding in a body, marched out the students followed them with jokes and jeers. Finally the militiamen lost patience and charged with clubbed guns, and one quiet student who had been apparently only a spectator, was felled to the ground and afterward died of his injury. The sergeant in charge of the soldiers was also seriously injured. In this instance the students were guilty of nothing but noise, while the militia were acting entirely contrary to the law. Nevertheless,[281] though eight men were arrested, the blame could not be fixed on any one man. The Governor of the State, however, disbanded the company for its unsoldierly conduct.

While the growth of the University of late years would suggest a corresponding increase in such troubles as have been described, the actual development has been quite otherwise, and serious clashes between students and townsfolk have been very rare in recent years. There have, it is true, been occasional raids on street-cars and signs; students have been arrested for playing ball on the streets; and sometimes political meetings have been disturbed. One of the most amusing incidents of this character was an address given by W.J. Bryan in 1900 from the portico of the Court House. Wild cheering greeted him as he rose to speak, which lasted for at least fifteen minutes. At first he was obviously greatly flattered; then he began to suspect something was not quite right and majestically raised his hand for silence. Instantly every student waved his hand in response, and the exchange was continued for some time. Meanwhile the police force was busy dragging off to jail any unlucky student on the outskirts of the crowd they could lay hands on. When the speaker was at length able to make himself heard his first words, somewhat unfortunate under the circumstances, were, "If I were an imperialist I would call out an army to suppress you. But I am not."

It may be said, therefore, that in spite of these occasional troubles the relations between town and gown have been on the whole surprisingly normal and friendly when we consider that at present over one-fourth of the total population of Ann Arbor during term-time is composed of students. This cordial relationship is undoubtedly fostered by the fact that all the men and many of the women outside the fraterni[282]ties, live in rooms rented from the townspeople. The extent to which this system has developed is probably unique in any American university of the same size. Only very recently has there been any modification of the tradition, in the erection of women's dormitories and a promise of similar buildings for the men.

While this arrangement is not ideal in many ways, for the students do not always secure the clean and attractive quarters they are properly entitled to have, it has been undoubtedly a great advantage to the University in relieving it of the expense and trouble of maintaining dormitories, at a time when every dollar of resources, to say nothing of the energies of the officers, was necessary to maintain the University's work. It is only natural, however, that many disputes between students and landladies should arise, particularly when the rooming and boarding houses are not supervised by the University: This is the case with the men. For some time the women in the University have been allowed to live only in approved rooming houses. The Health Service has also undertaken to inspect all the student boarding houses in an effort to ensure wholesome food and to maintain a definite standard of cleanliness.

Whatever the minor sources of friction that have arisen between the students and townsfolk of Ann Arbor, however, the substantial friendliness of the citizens and their pride in the University have always been one of its great assets through its years of development. The promoters of the hastily organized land company through whose efforts Ann Arbor was made the site of the future University builded better than they knew. Their venture was probably not a particularly profitable one, for the rapid growth they had expected did not materialize. But their prompt action and[283] foresight assured the institution a normal and healthy environment comparatively free from political and commercial influences. There are, undoubtedly, certain advantages which come to the modern university in a larger city, which becomes in a way a laboratory for various forms of scientific investigation; but the disadvantages are no less obvious. The life of the students becomes more complicated; social distractions and amusements are apt to offer too great temptations; the simplicity of academic life is lost; while the personal relations between Faculty and student become more perfunctory. Thus by her very situation Michigan has been able to retain, in spite of her extraordinary growth in recent years, something of that fine flavor of college life which has always been the essence of our best academic traditions.

In the first days the Campus was only a backwoods clearing with lines of forest oaks on the east and south, the fence-rows of the Rumsey farm, and from it the stumps of the original forest trees had to be removed before the University was opened. For many years it was, to all intents, a farm lot upon which a few scattered buildings were to be seen. The early Regents and Faculty were necessarily occupied with pressing practical problems, and the first steps toward rendering the Campus more attractive were very casual and ineffective. The sum of $200 was given Dr. Houghton for the planting of trees in 1840 but action was delayed because of Pat Kelly's wheat, and when eventually the trees were planted—tradition has it they were locusts—they were soon destroyed by insects. Andrew D. White describes the Campus when he came to the University in 1857 as "unkempt and wretched. Throughout its whole space there were not more than a score of trees outside the building sites[284] allotted to professors; unsightly plank walks connected the buildings, and in every direction were meandering paths, which in dry weather were dusty and in wet weather muddy."

Yet as early as 1847 the forlorn condition of the Campus began to be officially noticed; appropriations of small sums were made from time to time for trees and shrubs and a scheme for the laying out of avenues and walks and the planting of groups of trees was adopted. Unfortunately, the trees came before the walks, and as they were all of quick-growing varieties the effort did not go far. Nevertheless a vision of the traditional academic grove appeared in the report of the visiting Committee of that year, which recommended that "regard should be had, in making the selection, to the cleanliness, desirability, symmetry, and beauty of foliage of the trees to be planted" and observed that "the highway of thought, and intellectual development and progress, much of which is parched and rugged, should, as far as may be, be refreshed with fountains and strewn with flowers." Truly, an alluring picture! The Faculty, however, somewhat more practical, insisted on walks, protesting that they were "obliged before clear day to wend their way to their recitations through darkness and mud." A similar plan was undertaken in 1854 when citizens, students, and Faculty all joined in the work, the citizens to set out a row of trees on the farther side of the streets outside the Campus, while the students and Faculty were to do the same on the Campus side. Five hundred trees were thus set out within the grounds while an equal number was added through an appropriation by the Regents. But apparently small success attended these efforts, for few of these trees have survived.

It was with the coming of the young Andrew D. White,[285] as Professor of History, with his youthful enthusiasm and memories of the "glorious elms of Yale," that the first effective effort for the improvement of the Campus began. He says, in his Autobiography:

His example was doubtless infectious, for the Ann Arbor citizens continued their tree-planting efforts around the outside of the Campus in the spring of 1858, while a group of sixty trees presented to the University were set out inside. The seniors of '58 left a memorial in the shape of concentric rings of maples about a native oak in the center of the Campus, one of the few survivals of the original forest growth, which has since become known as the Tappan Oak, and is now marked by a tablet on a boulder placed there in later years by '58. Many of these maples still survive, though all traces of the circles are lost. The juniors also set out another group further to the east, while Professor Fasquelle planted a number of evergreens east of the north wing to balance a similar group of Professor White's at the south. The maples outside the walk on State Street were[286] also the gift of Professor White and were balanced by a similar row of elms on the inside, given by the Faculty of the Literary Department. This general interest in Campus improvement did not escape the Regents and successive appropriations, though comparatively small, continued the work until Michigan now has, in the words of the father of the movement, written forty-six years after his work was undertaken, "one of the most beautiful academic groves to be seen in any part of the world,"—a monument to him and to the students of his time.

The development of the building program, if a thing so haphazard can go by that name, was less fortunate for the University. Only in very recent years has there been any appreciation of the need of some degree of uniformity and planning for the future. Many of the present buildings have been evolved, as the needs of the University grew, rather than planned, while others have been built to suit the tastes of certain officers, or the special needs of the departments concerned, with no reference to the larger unity which has come to be recognized as so necessary in any group of buildings. Some of the oldest buildings have gone; in particular the two residences on the north, which became the old Dental College and the Homeopathic School in their last incarnations, while the picturesque old Medical Building followed them a few years later. The two on the south still survive; the President's House, though often remodeled, still retains its old lines, but the adjacent building, now known as the Old Engineering Building and used largely for instruction in modern languages in the Engineering College, has lost all semblance of its former character.

Similarly the Law Building has undergone many transformations,[287] while the old Chemistry Building, now used by the Departments of Physiology, Materia Medica, and Economics as make-shift quarters, has lost through successive additions almost all trace of that first little laboratory which exemplified the progressive spirit of the University in her early days. The new Chemistry Building on the north side was completed in 1910 and cost with equipment about $300,000. It is four stories high, 230 feet long by 130 feet wide, and is built about two interior courts. The building contains two amphitheaters, laboratories for organic and qualitative chemistry, metallurgy, physical chemistry, and gas analysis, as well as the College of Pharmacy.

Just beside it to the west rises the largest building on the Campus, the Natural Science Building, which houses the Departments of Botany, Geology, Forestry, Mineralogy, Zoölogy, and Psychology. This building, which was something of a departure in laboratory construction when it was completed in 1916, is built upon the unit system, and consists essentially of concrete piers, whose uniform spacing divides the rooms and laboratories into equal units, or multiples, with practically the total width between piers opening into windows. This is, in effect, a modern adaptation of the old Gothic principle, though it emphasizes the horizontal and lacks entirely the buttresses and pinnacles which gave the medieval church builders their inspiration. It marks, however, a new era in laboratory construction, for not only are the laboratories flooded with light, but they are carefully designed for the purpose for which they are to be used. It is also to be noted that each department is installed in a complete section of four floors, from basement to top. The building, which cost $375,000, has about 155,000 square feet of floor space and like the neighboring Chemistry Building[288] is built about an open court. The same principle of construction has also been followed as far as practicable in the new Library Building.

Other buildings on the Campus which have not been mentioned elsewhere are the Physics Laboratory, the Museum, and Tappan Hall. The Physics Laboratory was built in 1886-87. Within twenty years it proved inadequate and in 1905 an addition costing $45,000 became necessary, which contains among other features a well-equipped lecture room accommodating four hundred students. Until the completion of the larger lecture room in the Natural Science Building this was in great demand for many University lectures. Tappan Hall, a class-room building, in a portion of which the Department of Education now has its headquarters, was erected in 1894-95 and stands near the southwest corner of the Campus just at the rear of Alumni Memorial Hall.

The University Museum was erected in 1881 and stands between University Hall and Alumni Memorial Hall. It is far from being the most successful of the University Buildings architecturally, and as it has been for some time entirely inadequate for the collections it houses, it will not be many years before the need for a new museum will be presented to the Legislature. In addition to the offices of the Curator, Professor A.G. Ruthven, Morningside, '03, and his staff, the building contains the University's zoölogical and anthropological collections, very popular with casual visitors to the Campus. The former includes a fine exhibit of mounted mammals and some 1,600 birds, as well as reptiles, fishes, mollusks and insects, in all of which particular effort has been made to show forms native to the State. The Anthropological Collection includes the entire exhibit of the[289] Chinese Government at the New Orleans Exposition in 1885, as well as many items from China and the Philippines, collected by the Beal-Steere Expedition. The collections in geology, mineralogy, botany, materia medica, chemistry, the industrial arts, and the fine arts are to be found in the Natural Science Building and other buildings devoted to these special subjects.

For many years the original forty acres of the Rumsey farm were more than ample for the needs of the University. The Observatory, the first building to find a place apart from the Campus, was set upon its hilltop some distance northeast, because of the need of clear air and quiet; advantages now almost lost in the proximity of the hospitals, heating plant, and railroads that portends an eventual change in location. The Observatory has grown rapidly since its establishment by Dr. Tappan in 1852. The building was last remodeled and enlarged in 1911 when a reflecting telescope, with a 37-5/8 inch parabolic mirror, largely made in the shops of the University, was installed. In light gathering power this instrument is in a class with the Lick and Yerkes refractors, and it is at least as effective in astronomical photography, the purpose for which it was designed. The new brick tower, with its copper-covered dome, rises sixty feet above the basement and is forty feet in diameter.

Just beyond the Observatory, on the crest of the hills defining the Huron valley, is the largest group of university buildings off the Campus, the old University Hospitals, which are to be replaced in 1922 by the new Hospital, ground for which was broken in September, 1919. Following the erection of the first building in 1891 an office building was added in 1896 to be followed rapidly by other sections, including a children's pavilion erected in 1901, known[290] as the Palmer Ward, the bequest of the widow of Dr. Alonzo B. Palmer, who also left $15,000 for the maintenance of free beds in it. The entire group of buildings numbers ten, including the State Psychopathic Hospital.

The new Hospital is to be one of the largest and most completely equipped in America. It is composed of a series of wings taking the general form of a double letter "Y" connected at the stems, with a smaller office building in front and a larger wing containing laboratories, operating and class rooms at the rear. The building is 420 feet long and six stories high with provision for an additional three stories at some future time. It is built of reinforced concrete upon regularly spaced piers, and is similar in construction to the Natural Science Building.

The work of the Homeopathic Department is centered in its fine Hospital building with an adjacent Children's Ward and Nurses' Home just off the northeast corner of the Campus. The Dental Building, erected in 1908, is situated to the west, just across the street from the Gymnasium. It contains many laboratories and lecture rooms, as well as an operating room fitted with eighty dental chairs.

Of the other buildings off the Campus, the new Union, Hill Auditorium and the three dormitories for women are the most conspicuous. The Union, with its magnificent tower and imposing yet withal beautifully proportioned masses, has been mentioned as the dominant architectural feature of State Street. Hill Auditorium, which was made possible by a bequest of $200,000 left by Regent Arthur Hill, '65e, of Saginaw upon his death in 1909, forms one of the unique features of the University's equipment. Despite its seating capacity, with the stage, of over 5,000, it has almost perfect acoustic properties, so that a whisper from the stage can[291] be heard in any portion of this great hall. Its completion in 1913 enabled the University at last to bring the great part of the students together under one roof upon such occasions as the annual convocation, the official opening of the University in the fall. The problem connected with the admission of relatives and friends of the graduating classes to the Commencement exercises, which had proved exceedingly troublesome for many years, was also at last ended; while the musical interests of Ann Arbor, particularly the annual May Festival, immediately found an opportunity for further expansion in this hall, whose advantages as a concert hall were praised by every visiting musician. The building, which is finished in tapestry brick and terra cotta, stands opposite the Natural Science Building on North University Avenue. In addition to the great auditorium, it contains offices and class rooms, a dressing-room for choruses, and a great foyer across the front of the second floor, where the Stearns collection of musical instruments, one of the finest in America, is installed. The great organ from the Chicago World's Fair is also placed in this building as a memorial to Professor Henry S. Frieze, the pioneer in Michigan's development as a musical center.

The University now has four dormitories or halls of residence for women. Two of them were completed in 1916; the Martha Cook Building on South University Avenue, given by the Cook family of Hillsdale, in memory of their mother, and the Newberry Hall of Residence on State Street, a memorial to Helen Handy Newberry, the wife of John S. Newberry, '47, given by her children. The Martha Cook Building is probably the most sumptuous and complete college dormitory in America and cost something over $500,000. It is an unusually beautiful example of Tudor Gothic, always[292] a favorite style for college buildings. Simple in its main lines it reveals an extraordinary perfection in detail as well as comfort in its appointments and a richness in decoration which cannot but have its happy influence on the one hundred and seventeen fortunate women who live there. Less elaborate but equally attractive as a home for the seventy-five girls it is built to accommodate is the Newberry Building, which, though smaller and simpler in its architecture, embodies every essential found in the larger building. It is of hollow tile and stucco and cost about $100,000. Similar in general plan and appointments, though built of brick, is the adjacent Betsy Barbour Dormitory, which was completed in 1920, the gift of Ex-Regent Levi L. Barbour, '63, '65l, of Detroit. It stands on the site of the old ward school building on State Street, used for many years by the University as a recitation building, and soon to be razed now the new dormitory, just to the rear, is completed. Alumnae House, the fourth girls' residence hall, was, as the name implies, furnished by the alumnae of the University. It was made over from a quaint old dwelling on Washtenaw Avenue at a cost of about $18,000, and accommodates sixteen self-supporting students.

A final group of buildings, very necessary in an institution so large as the University, is composed of the heating and lighting plant, the nearby laundry in the one-time ravine at the east of the old "Cat-hole," and the University shops and storehouse a little distance south. The old power house near the Engineering Building was abandoned in 1914 when the new plant, situated on a lower level than the Campus and reached by a spur from the railroad, was ready for service. It cost approximately a third of a million dollars, and furnishes heat, compressed air, electrical energy, and[293] hot water to the Campus and adjacent buildings through a series of tunnels nearly ten feet high which extend as far as the Union, half a mile across the Campus.

Aside from the smaller and the more temporary buildings and the many dwelling houses on property recently acquired, the buildings of the University number about forty. This does not include the buildings occupied by the Y.M.C.A. and the Y.W.C.A., or the Psychopathic Hospital, the titles to which do not rest with the Board of Regents.

Though the buildings on the Campus have not, until very recently, been placed with any careful relationship to a general scheme, and exhibit a very unfortunate lack of architectural harmony, in certain features the Campus gives promise of better things in the future. Some of the buildings have real beauty, though it is too often lost in an unfavorable environment. Charming details are to be found here and there, while the green canopy of the elms and maples planted sixty years ago helps to give our academic field a real distinction. Fortunately the center of the Campus has been left comparatively free of buildings, save for the rambling old Chemistry Building, now used by the departments of Physiology and Economics, and the plain but imposing bulk of the new Library Building, a fitting center whence paths diverge in every direction to the halls and laboratories along the avenues that mark the outer confines of the Campus. Lack of funds and the imperative need of room, and yet more room, for the thousands of new students, has severely limited the Regents in the matter of adornment of the buildings erected in recent years, which have all tended to conform to one type, simple, dignified in their very rectangular bulk, and relieved only by patterns in tapestry brick and terra cotta trimmings.[294]

Within recent years, too, the new buildings have been carefully placed, not only with reference to the present Campus, but also the inevitable northeastward growth of the University toward the hills lining the river. For some time the Regents have been acquiring scattered parcels of property as occasion presented, and now own a good share of the land in the triangle bounded roughly by Hill Auditorium, the University Hospitals and Palmer Field, an area twice as large as the present Campus. In addition there is the University Arboretum and Botanical Gardens, a large area south and east of Forest Hill Cemetery, which is now linked up by boulevards with the rapidly growing system of city parks.

A formal entrance to the Campus in the form of a double driveway, laid out in accordance with a plan prepared in 1906 by Professor Emil Lorch of the Department of Architecture, and known as the Mall, passes between the Chemistry and Natural Science Buildings. This forms practically a continuation of Ingalls Street between Hill Auditorium and a future companion, possibly a new Museum, which will eventually be built to the east on the other corner. The impressive vista thus formed leads the eye to the massive façade of the new Library, though the Campus flagstaff, some distance in front, now marks the actual end of the new driveway. The architectural emphasis of the Campus is thus being turned to the north, but the western, or State Street side still remains the accepted front, dominated by the old-fashioned but nevertheless stately bulk of old University Hall. Within a short time State Street has become, through the fortunate removal of several unsightly old survivals of earlier days, one of the most beautiful of academic avenues, flanked on one side by the Campus, with[295] its trees, broad spaces and dignified buildings, and by a row of public buildings on the western side, which, though sadly lacking in uniformity, are yet for the most part impressive and substantial. These include the Congregational Church, the two halls of residence for women, the older Newberry Hall, a number of fraternity houses, and particularly the commanding beauty of the Michigan Union.

It is fortunate for the University and the community that the problem of the future development of the institution in relation to the city is being carefully considered. The expansion of the Campus to the north and northeast is now established, and it is probable that at some future period the Mall, lined with monumental buildings, and laid out in co-operation with the city, will extend to the river. Ann Arbor has already taken far-sighted measures in establishing a series of boulevards and parks along the river with connecting links which will eventually encircle the town. The extensive University properties in the Arboretum and Botanical Gardens, which cover the hills defining the ravine extending from the river to Geddes Avenue, and join the present enlarged University grounds at the Observatory, form part of this system. Plans are now under consideration for a rearrangement of streets, which will afford easier access from the Campus to the Hospitals and the boulevards and river drives. These will give to this portion of the future University grounds an irregularity and picturesqueness wholly lacking on the flat hilltop occupied by the present Campus. One of the difficulties in this plan is the old "Cat-hole," the end of a ravine, whose steep hillsides extend from the river practically to the northeast corner of the Campus. Though this unsightly boghole has been gradually filled in, it still forms a blot on the landscape which might,[296] nevertheless, with a little effort and comparatively small expense, be transformed into a charming open air theater. This in fact has been recommended by Mr. Frederick Law Olmstead, the landscape architect, who has made an extensive study of the whole problem for the city and the University.

It is fortunate for the University that this plan for the future, tentative though it may be at present, is actually a part of a large scheme for the improvement of the city, suggested by Mr. Olmstead. Ann Arbor is fast becoming one of the most beautiful little cities in the country, with winding streets, shaded by noble maples and elms and many of the original forest oaks, and lined by substantial homes, charming in their simple architecture and setting. This development came at first, as was natural, largely from the Faculty, but an increasing number of families from Detroit and elsewhere have of late come to make Ann Arbor their permanent residence, attracted by the unusual beauty of the city and the advantages afforded by the University. The sightly range of hills along the Huron between Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti and about the new Barton Pond, two miles to the north and west of the city, recently developed as a water-power site, are soon to be dotted here and there with comfortable and attractive country homes, which promise to change the entire character of Ann Arbor's environs. The little country town of the past is fast disappearing.

With these plans rapidly evolving there is every reason to hope that, at no distant period, the University may find an imposing physical setting more in keeping with her standing among American universities. The present is an era of transition; as yet she has hardly had time to adjust herself to the extraordinary growth of the last ten years; still[297] less to realize all the problems it involves. But it requires no great vision to see the University of the future occupying at last the heights overlooking the Huron valley which that unfortunate decision at the first meeting of the Regents denied to her in 1837.

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[298]

CHAPTER XIII

THE UNIVERSITY IN WAR TIMES

Michigan has had a most honorable record in the three wars in which the country has been engaged since the first class was graduated. Though two of her early graduates were veterans of the Mexican War, it was not until the Civil War that the opportunity came to show what kind of citizens of the Republic were in the making in this pioneer State University. The catalogue of 1864 lists only 999 graduates. Yet the number of Michigan men who served in the Civil War was within a few of 2,000. This number of course includes many students who left never to return and many who entered the University, particularly the professional schools, in the years immediately after the war. Practically half of the members of the classes of '59, '60, '61, and '62 served in the war, and '62 alone lost seven members out of twenty-two in service. The college men of the sixties were no less ready than their grandsons in 1917.

Feeling ran high in the University during the period just before the Civil War. The students were nearly all strong and vigorous products of pioneer life, good hunters and rifle shots, with a love of individual liberty and free speech. Many were studying for the ministry. Anti-slavery sentiment was all but unanimous, except for the one or two students from the South, but few could be called out and out abolitionists. It is difficult nowadays to understand the sentiment which led to the mobbing of an abolitionist speaker, Parker Pillsbury, some months before war was de[299]clared. He knew from personal experience that the South was arming and came to urge the citizens of the North to prepare for the struggle. Yet when he attempted to speak in Ann Arbor a mob collected and would have none of his advice; they stormed the little Free Church on North State Street, driving audience and speaker out of the rear windows and gutting the building. Similar troubles were threatened when Wendell Phillips was advertised to speak on abolition a month or so later. In view of the first experience, there was great difficulty in finding a hall, but finally the trustees of the old Congregational Church decided that if the building "must be razed to the ground, let it go down in behalf of free speech and the great cause of liberty." The class of '61 also decided that free speech must be protected, and on the appointed evening was present in force with hickory clubs, twelve members in front and more scattered about inside. While the church was packed there was no demonstration, though the mob "howled outside."

Most of the students who heard Phillips that night left confirmed abolitionists, and some were among the first to take up arms. To us, nowadays, the state of public opinion at that time seems almost incomprehensible. Few of the individual members of those mobs were in real sympathy with the South, but party affiliations were strong and, in the words of Judge Cheever, '63, who describes these troubles, they were held back from openly showing abolitionist principles by "their fear that an open contest would lead to the destruction of the government." Within a year a good part of the rioters were in the Union Army.

Throughout the troubled period preceding the actual outbreak of war, President Tappan was circumspect in his public utterances, and was considered conservative on the[300] slavery question though he presided at the Wendell Phillips meeting. The professorial radical of those days was the young Andrew D. White. He was in closer touch with the students than his colleagues, and his personal influence and brilliant lectures on modern history swept his students on into bold opinions and resolute action.

When Sumter was fired upon the University was aflame at once. Although it was Sunday when the news of the surrender came, there was no thought of services. A platform of boxes and planks was raised on the Court House Square and Dr. Tappan was sent for. Upon his arrival, Bible in hand, he found a large and a serious gathering awaiting him. Heretofore President Tappan had permitted himself to say little, though his students were thrilled occasionally by some remark which showed how keenly alive he was to the great issues of the time. Now he could speak. After reading some heroic passages from the Old Testament, he spoke, in the words of Gen. W.H.H. Beadle, '61,—

The contemporaries of Dr. Tappan are unanimous in their judgment of his extraordinary ability as a speaker, to which a majestic figure and magnificent voice no less than his logic and apt illustrations contributed. But on this day he made the effort of his career. From that time the University was whole-heartedly for the Union and the war.

Student companies were organized at once; and the Tappan Guards under Charles Kendall Adams, '61, the Chancellor Greys, under Isaac H. Elliot, '62, and the Ellsworth[301] Zouaves, under Albert Nye, '62, who died at Murfreesboro in 1862, formed a University Battalion which enrolled practically every student in the University. This was not the first effort of the sort, however, for five years before Professor W.P. Trowbridge, a graduate of West Point, had organized the first University Battalion, with uniforms and arms furnished by the Government, and had managed to have a small building erected as an armory, which was later to become the first gymnasium. This experiment was short-lived and came to an end when Professor Trowbridge resigned the following year. With the organization of the new battalion the duty of drill master fell upon Joseph H. Vance, the steward of the University, who was also assistant librarian. The President set apart a room at the south end of the south College, and there the students, in sections of fifty, drilled for an hour each day. The old muskets had been called in by the Government some time before, and sticks were perforce the ordinary armament. This drill continued for the rest of the year and for most of 1862. The men who thus received their preliminary training were to be found later in practically every corps and division of the Union Army.

These military efforts, however, did not satisfy the more restless spirits and many left the University immediately, few of whom ever returned to finish their course. Of the fifty-four who graduated with the "war class" of '61, twenty-four entered the service, in addition to eight who did not stay to finish their work, in all thirty-two out of sixty-two. The students in the two professional departments were no less eager for service, as is shown by the remarkable record of the medical class of '61, thirty of whose forty-four graduates saw active service. Among the Michigan men in the[302] Civil War at least twelve, eight of whom held degrees, rose to the rank of brigadier-general, three of them from the class of '61. Of this number apparently only one, Elon Farnsworth, '55-'58, actually commanded a brigade in battle. He was killed while bravely leading a hopeless charge at Gettysburg.

Michigan's war records are full of stories of brave deeds, but few surpass the heroism of William Longshaw, '59m, an assistant surgeon in the Navy, who undertook to carry a line from his ship, the Nahant, to the Lehigh, which had run aground in the attack on Fort Moultrie. Twice he was successful but the intense fire directed on his little boat by the batteries on shore cut the line each time. By this time Longshaw found the wounded needing his attention and he gave over the task to another who made a third and successful trip. For this exploit Longshaw was cited in general orders read from every quarter-deck in the fleet. He was killed while attending a wounded marine under equally heroic circumstances during the attack on Fort Fisher.

While Michigan men entered service from every Union State, the largest number, naturally, were in the Michigan regiments, particularly the Twentieth Michigan Infantry, in which a large number of officers, including every one in the two Ann Arbor companies, were University men. In one year, November, 1863, to November, 1864, 537 of the Regiment's total enrolment of 1,157 were killed, wounded, or prisoners, while three times it lost almost fifty percent of all the men engaged, at Spottsylvania, at Petersburg, and finally at the assault on the Crater, after which there were only eighty men and four officers left for duty. In another Michigan regiment, the Seventh, was Capt. Allan H. Zacharias of the class of '60 whose last letter, written on an[303] old envelope and clutched in his dead hand, forms an imperishable portion of Michigan's annals:

Within a year after peace was declared a plan was under way for a Memorial Building in memory of the graduates of the University who had fallen in the war. A committee appointed by the Alumni Association presented the matter to the Board of Regents, but they were unable to take any action. The project was never forgotten, however, and was brought up year after year in alumni gatherings until in 1903 a committee under the Chairmanship of Judge C.B. Grant, '59, a former Colonel of the Twentieth Michigan, was appointed. This committee was so successful in its efforts that the Memorial Building was eventually dedicated in May, 1910. A large tablet by the sculptor A.A. Weinman bearing the inscription given on the following page, was placed, in June, 1914, on the right wall just inside the entrance.

A further investigation of the war records of the graduates of the University revealed many more names than were known when the tablet was designed, so that now the total in the morocco bound volume which is conspicuously placed in the building carries the records of 2,424 who served in the three wars.[304]

THIS HALL ERECTED ANNO DOMINI 1909-1910
UNDER DIRECTION OF THE ALUMNI ASSOCIATION BY THE ALUMNI
AND FRIENDS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN IS DEDICATED
TO THE MEMORY OF HER PATRIOTIC SONS WHO SERVED IN

THREE OF HER COUNTRY'S WARS NAMELY
TWO IN THE MEXICAN WAR A.D. 1847
ONE THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED FOURTEEN
IN THE CIVIL WAR A.D. 1861-1865

FOUR HUNDRED TWENTY SIX IN THE SPANISH WAR A.D. 1898
A RECORD OF THEIR NAMES AND MILITARY HISTORY IS
DEPOSITED IN THE ARCHIVES OF THE ALUMNI ASSOCIATION

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THE WORLD WILL LITTLE NOTE NOR LONG REMEMBER WHAT WE
SAY HERE BUT IT CAN NEVER FORGET WHAT THEY DID HERE—
LINCOLN AT GETTYSBURG

Though the number of Michigan men in the Spanish-American War was naturally much smaller, the total mounted to very nearly four hundred, of whom eight lost their lives, including one member of the Rough Riders, Oliver B. Norton, '01m, killed by a shell at San Juan Hill. The contingents from at least fifteen states included Michigan graduates, but the greater number were to be found in the five Michigan volunteer regiments, particularly the 31st and 32nd, though there were a number in the 33rd and 34th that formed with the 9th Massachusetts the Brigade commanded by Brigadier-General Henry M. Duffield, '58-'59, which was one of the few volunteer units to see active service in Cuba.

In the Navy a large proportion of the Michigan men were members of the Michigan State Naval Brigade on the U.S.S. Yosemite, of which Dean M.E. Cooley, at that time Professor of Mechanical Engineering, was Chief Engineer. The Yosemite was a converted yacht used as a scout and convoy. Within a month after going into commission she[305] was assigned to the task of convoying some 800 marines on the Panther to Guantanamo. It happened that the first load was taken ashore on June 10 by one of the boats of the Yosemite and it is said the first American flag was planted on Cuban soil by a University of Michigan member of the crew. Later in June the Yosemite met a big Spanish mail steamer, the Antonio Lopez, with ammunition and supplies for San Juan and succeeded in beaching her under the fierce fire of the shore batteries and after attacks by three Spanish gunboats, which were twice driven into the harbor.

In addition to many graduates and students of the Medical Department attached to the different units, two members of the Faculty, Dean Victor C. Vaughan, Divisional Surgeon at Siboney, and Dr. C.B.G. de Nancrède, Surgeon of the 34th, saw active service in Cuba as Majors on the Medical Staff. Their courage and devotion to duty were mentioned in the Surgeon-General's report.

Michigan was also represented in the war cabinet by its leader, William R. Day, '70, Secretary of State, while the Assistant Secretary of War, a most important post in those exciting months, was George DeRue Meiklejohn, '80l. Judge Day was also President of the commission which negotiated the peace at Paris after the war, with Cushman K. Davis, '57, chairman of the Senate Committee on Foreign Affairs, as one of the other members.

According to the latest available records there were at least 12,000 sons of the University of Michigan in service during the World War. Of this number over 229 gave their lives for the principles for which America was fighting. At the Seventy-fifth Commencement, which came the year following the Armistice, the University's service flag, which hung in Hill Auditorium, revealed the fact that at that time[306] the names were known of 10,243 students and alumni in uniform. This figure mounted rapidly in subsequent months, though the difficulties of following the careers of many former soldiers through the period of demobilization have made it very difficult to obtain even an approximately correct estimate. This is particularly true in the case of thousands of students who left the University during the years 1917 and 1918. An analysis of the figures given on the service flag showed that of the total 7,669 were known to be actually in service while 2,747 were in the University, enrolled in the army and navy units of the Student Army Training Corps. As these men were in uniform and regularly inducted in the two branches of service and would all have been sent overseas within a short time had the war continued, their names must be included.

Such are the bare statistics of Michigan's part in the fight for the principles which have made America what she is. The war came slowly to the University. During the years just preceding the entrance of the United States there was probably no part of the world as little touched by the actualities overseas as the mid-western portion of the United States. The seaboard states felt it, in their commerce and other contacts with Europe, far more than the vast central region, which had been favored with an unexampled wave of prosperity. So while America was at peace, the war spirit in the University was for the most part latent, far more so than in many of the universities of the East, where the implications and the realities of the war, which always come more vividly through personal relationships, led to more vigorous preparatory measures and many enlistments for service in the English, Canadian, and French armies.

The lessons the struggle on the Marne, in Flanders and[307] Gallipoli was teaching were by no means unheeded, however, and a strong movement for military training in the University developed as early as November, 1914, when a petition signed by fifty members of the Faculty, including the Deans of the Medical, Engineering, and Law Schools, for the establishment of a military course in the University was presented to the Regents. This had no immediate effect, however, and it was not until the University Senate took similar action a year later that the movement was really inaugurated. The opinion was as yet by no means unanimous in favor of the plan, for a straw vote of the Faculty showed 85 for and 55 against the general principle of military training for students, with a somewhat smaller majority in favor of making it compulsory. A similar vote among the students showed 1,040 for the plan and 932 against it. In March, 1916, the Regents took favorable action on the project, though the course was not compulsory. Several military companies and a naval reserve unit were organized immediately, and the students were encouraged to attend the summer camps at Plattsburg and Fort Sheridan.

It took over a year and the stimulus of the actual entry of the United States into the war to bring to practical completion the plan of the Regents for voluntary training, with a course in military science instituted under officers designated by the War Department. Co-operation on the part of the Government, too, came slowly. There was great difficulty in harmonizing the University system with the government plan for college military training which was embodied in General Orders 49, establishing a Reserve Officers' Training Corps. Many meetings took place between officers detailed by the War Department and a committee, composed of the heads of various universities, of which President[308] Hutchins was a member, before a modification of the government program was eventually secured. This made the prescribed course more elastic, and put military drill wholly or in part in summer camps. Inasmuch as the students under this plan could not be appointed reserve officers without examinations, it was not strictly the R.O.T.C. as originally contemplated by the Government, but it was a practical solution. As a matter of fact most of these difficulties of organization vanished when the United States entered the war, on April 6, 1917, in the general enthusiasm and eagerness to serve. The great practical question became a matter of the detail of a competent army officer to the University.

Meanwhile the students lost no time; little companies could be seen drilling everywhere on the streets. Three hundred students stayed over the spring vacation and drilled for four hours every afternoon. By May 315 men had been recommended for training camps, and 500 had left the University to enlist. The Regents also authorized the circulation of the 43,000 alumni and former students for the University Intelligence Bureau, and 25,000 replies, giving the qualifications of each individual for various forms of war service, were received. The Engineering College announced seven preliminary courses in military science, while the Medical School, with almost the whole Faculty enlisted, foreseeing the need of surgeons turned its whole force to training the upper classmen, and the Law School so arranged its programme that twelve hours a week were given over to drill. The upper class medical, engineering, and dental students were also enlisted as reserves while completing their courses.

It was not until October, 1917, that the Officers' Training Corps really got under way, as a definite part of the curriculum. But once started the response was overwhelming.[309] Though the attendance in the University had declined by 1,239, and the course was not compulsory, there were 1,800 enrolled by the end of the first week. To introduce this great body of embryo soldiers to the rudiments of military drill the Government sent just one officer, Lieut. George C. Mullen, who had retired after some years' service in the earlier Philippine campaigns. Later came two sergeants, and another officer, Lieut. Losey J. Williams. With this slender force, and the aid of a company of Faculty men who drilled every night in order to prepare themselves as advisors, or "tactical officers" to supervise the student company commanders and with 300 old rifles, Michigan managed to "carry on," maintaining the largest, though owing to these difficulties probably not the most effective R.O.T.C. organization in the country. Nevertheless it served a very useful purpose, as its continually dwindling ranks indicated; for the better men were leaving all the time for the numerous training camps which had been established in the meantime. Of the 800 who received commissions after the first course at Camp Custer only 60 percent survived, but among these were all the candidates sent from the Michigan R.O.T.C., twenty-two of whom were included in the first hundred.

The University may also claim particular credit for the development of courses in army stores, which were first instituted by Professor, later Lieutenant-Colonel, Joseph A. Bursley, '99e. This course, which aimed to fit men for the ordnance and quartermasters departments, grew through six successive increments every six weeks, to about 250 men, and proved so practical and effective that similar courses were installed in other universities. In the same manner similar short courses were established in the Engineering[310] College for the training of mechanics, particularly in the maintenance and repair of gas engines. The first course of eight weeks began on April 15, 1917, and prepared 195 men for this important branch of the service. A detachment of 700 men followed which included 500 automobile repair men, 100 general mechanics, 60 gunsmiths, and 40 carpenters.

These men came as enlisted soldiers and were under the command of Captain, later Major, R.H. Durkee. Five old residences belonging to the University were transformed into barracks, while the still far from completed Union was used as a mess hall. The laboratory facilities of the Engineering College naturally proved inadequate for so large a number, and temporary buildings sprang up rapidly in every open space nearby, erected by the men in the detachments. In addition to the technical training given these men, who were not, however, enrolled as university students, various special courses were given in war aims which proved of great value in furthering morale. This whole effort proved so effective that the Government desired to make a contract for the training of 2,800 men from October, 1918, through July, 1919; but this was more than the University could care for, though it agreed to take 1,140, including 60 telephone linemen, and 600 telephone electricians.

The next step came in the establishment of the Students' Army Training Corps in the fall of 1918. This was designed to correct the weaknesses, revealed under the stress of war-time conditions, in the old R.O.T.C., which in most universities did not furnish really effective military training for the emergency, particularly in the matter of discipline. The passing of the draft law also threatened the very existence of many of the private colleges and the plan to carry on university work and military training, side by side, while[311] the students were actually inducted and under strict military discipline, seemed an ideal solution of a most threatening problem. Michigan, therefore, in common with every other college and university which could muster the necessary one hundred students, became in effect a military academy with the opening of the University in October, 1918, though of course there were many students not enrolled in the S.A.T.C., particularly the women, and the medical, engineering, and dental reserves who were completing their courses. The total S.A.T.C. enlistment was 2,727, of whom 2,151 were enrolled in the Army, and 586 in the Naval Training Corps; these were entered as regular students in the University, while 2,247 more in Section B, the army mechanics course, were not considered University students.

Thus with the largest S.A.T.C. enrolment of any university in the country, Michigan gladly devoted all her resources to the one supreme aim of training soldiers. Practically every fraternity house was turned over to the War Department as a barracks; the mysterious Greek letters were dropped and henceforth they were known simply by number—officially at least. The sum of $260,000 was borrowed from the State War Board to hasten the completion of the Union sufficiently to serve as a mess hall and kitchen, and this together with a temporary building erected alongside accommodated some 3,650 men. The Union also furnished sleeping quarters for 800 student soldiers. The fact that Michigan had a building so well adapted to the needs of the new situation was perhaps the principal factor in enabling the University to enter upon the programme so extensively. Dean Mortimer E. Cooley of the Engineering College was made Regional Educational Director with the work in all the colleges and universities in Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan[312] under his charge, while some forty army officers, many of them recent graduates of training camps, were detailed to the University as officers in charge.

Difficulties arose everywhere from the very first, however. The plan, which was not definitely approved by the War Department until a month before the opening of the colleges, was naturally not carefully worked out in detail. But this was a minor matter compared with a more serious defect in the general scheme. This was the lack of competent military officers, men with sufficient vision to co-operate effectively with the universities. The officers detailed were for the most part retired from active service, or recent recruits from training camps, and it was the exaggerated emphasis of things military on the part of the latter class that was largely responsible for the difficulty, noticeable from the very first, of maintaining any semblance of university work. The scheme provided for 42 hours of class work and study (14 hours of recitation with 28 hours of preparation) and only 13 hours of military drill; but the almost universal experience was that the military officers wholly misinterpreted the object of the plan and, with their strict control over their men, were able to discount, almost completely in some cases, the educational side of the programme. To add to the confusion, the onset of the influenza epidemic at just this time made the task of bringing order out of chaos almost impossible. Nevertheless, by the time the end came with the signing of the Armistice, measures were under way which might have saved the situation by curbing the complete ascendancy of the military officers, and restoring the scheme to its original essentially educational policy; for, in the original plan, the military features were to go only so far as to enable the authorities to select[313] the best men for further intensive training at the officers' camps.

This broad military programme was by no means confined to the students, as the whole curriculum of the University was necessarily almost wholly subordinated to the new scheme. Many courses not included in the outline prescribed by the Government, such as the classics, fine arts, and philosophy, were practically discontinued or given in a limited form to the few men not in service and the women students in the University. Many members of the Faculty abandoned their own subjects entirely and confined their work to the courses on war issues, which had come to form an important part of the new curriculum, or to elementary work in modern languages, especially French; German being for the most part anathema. This was a mistake; as one government inspector, himself a teacher of English, was accustomed to say emphatically, German was going to be needed even more than French; and so it turned out in the later days of the occupation of Germany. Nevertheless the decline of interest in the German language and literature, which had long been so carefully cultivated, as we can see now, by the German government, is one of the permanent results of the war; while there has been a corresponding increase in the study of French and Spanish.

Throughout this period, the women of the University were far from passive spectators. Special courses in household economics, conservation of food, French, journalism, and publicity and the principles of censorship, as well as a course in drafting in the Engineering College were provided for them. The women of the Faculty and town threw themselves indefatigably into Red Cross service, with the presidential residence on the Campus, known as Angell House,[314] as one of the principal headquarters. A Hostess House was also maintained in the parlors of Barbour Gymnasium for the families and sweethearts of men in the training detachments, while at one time the great floor of Waterman Gymnasium was used as a barracks. With the inauguration of the S.A.T.C., Alumni Memorial Hall was taken over as a Hostess House and maintained entirely by Ann Arbor women. Likewise during the worst of the influenza epidemic, the terrors of which were multiplied by the constant arrival of stricken men in new detachments, and the lack of adequate hospital facilities for such an unforeseen emergency, the women gave themselves, and in some cases their homes, to the cause, and helped to save many lives.

Thus the University gave itself over unreservedly to winning the war. No one can measure how great actually and potentially that service was. But Michigan's contribution was far from resting there. Thousands of her sons, alumni and students, were in service, a goodly proportion with the forces in France and elsewhere and with the Navy, while at least 229 are to be represented by a gold star on the University's great service flag.

Though Michigan officially remained aloof from active participation in the issues of the struggle before America entered it, she had many representatives in the fighting ranks. Professor René Talamon, of the French Department, who was spending his honeymoon in France, entered the French Army in 1914 and saw active service in all the great earlier battles, winning the Croix de Guerre on the field. He remained in uniform throughout the four years and completed his record by acting as interpreter at the Peace Conference. Frederic W. Zinn, '14e a student just graduated, was of that immortal company of Americans in the French[315] Foreign Legion, whose exploits have so often been told, and was one of the twelve survivors of a section of sixty. He was severely wounded in the Champagne offensive and subsequently entered the French and later the American Aviation Services. There were also many Michigan men scattered through the British and Canadian forces, and at least one, Stanley J. Schooley, e'09-'12, was with the Anzacs to the end at Gallipoli. George B.F. Monk, '13d, a Lieutenant in the Royal Warwickshires, was killed in Flanders, December 18, 1914, while another dental graduate, John Austen Ogden, '04d, was killed in France. Lieut. Thomas C. Bechraft, '09l, who enlisted with the Canadians, was killed by a sniper at the great British attack on Vimy Ridge, April 4, 1917;—one wonders whether he knew then that America had entered the war; and Theodore Harvey Clark, '14, died from sunstroke, September 9, 1917, while serving with the Y.M.C.A. in Mesopotamia.

Of the little company of Americans in the French ambulance service, among whom were a number of former students of the University, were the two Hall brothers, sons of Dr. Louis P. Hall, '89d, Professor of Dentistry in the University. Richard Nelville Hall, '11-'12, who later was graduated from Dartmouth, was killed on Christmas morning, 1915, when his car was struck by a stray shell, the first American to be killed in the ambulance service. His brother Louis P. Hall, Dartmouth, '12, Michigan, '14e, later became a lieutenant in the French army, and eventually captain in the American Expeditionary Forces.

It will thus be seen that Michigan's share in the war did not await the entry of America among the Allies, although it was not until the forces of the country were definitely enlisted that her real contribution, in men and services, was[316] made. With the opening of the great training camps, the alumni, particularly those of more recent years, as well as the students of the University volunteered literally in thousands, and Michigan was soon represented by men and officers in every branch of the service. They were in the first contingent of the expeditionary forces, the Rainbow Division, and figured prominently in the earliest fighting about the St. Mihiel salient, at Cantigny, and later with the Marines at Belleau Wood. Many were of course held in America, to their disgust, to train the new levies under the draft law, while others were assigned particular duties for which their special training had fitted them. Thus we find Michigan represented everywhere in the Medical and Dental Corps, the early engineering battalions, the rapidly evolving work of the signal corps, the military intelligence and censorship divisions, gas warfare and gas defense, publicity, and perhaps above all, the aviation service, for which the young college man seemed peculiarly fitted. There were several Michigan men among the first aviation sections in France; several were killed and others captured in early combats. The arrival of the later contingents brought Michigan men with every division; they were everywhere in the Argonne battle, they were with the famous "lost battalion," and with the American forces included in the British sectors, as well as among the engineers who helped to stop the gap after the disaster to the Fifth British Army.

Perhaps the most striking contribution Michigan made towards winning the war was in manning the big naval guns which did more than any one thing to cut the German lines of communication through the gap by Sedan between Longuyon and Montmedy. It is not too much to say that it was the work of these guns, in the hands of the men and[317] officers recruited largely from the two naval divisions who left the University in the spring of 1917, that formed one of the great arguments which led to the Armistice of November 11. These two divisions of about seventy men each were organized in the fall of 1916, and with the entry of the United States in the war were immediately mustered into service with Professors J.R. Hayden of the Department of Political Science and Orange J. McNiel of the Engineering College as the commanding officers. For some time they were held in Ann Arbor, where they were quartered in the Gymnasium, later going to the Great Lakes Training Station for further preparation.

Within a short time they were assigned to the various rifle ranges which were being established up and down the Atlantic coast by Major Harllee of the Marine Corps and given intensive training in gunnery. So well did they show up in this specialized task, for intensive training in marksmanship was one of the Navy's great needs, that little squads of the men were sent everywhere to install and open up new ranges. Meanwhile the need of big guns on the French front was becoming more and more apparent and one officer, Captain, and later Admiral, Plunkett bethought him of a number of great 14-inch navy guns which were not in use. He conceived the idea of mounting these on railway carriages and making great mobile batteries of them. At first he was laughed at; it was impossible to make heavy enough trucks to carry such a weight; and then, where were the expert men to man them? He replied that he knew where he could get the men and called in experts to design the carriages. The result was that in just fifty days the first gun was successfully fired from the railway mounting at the proving ground at Sandy Hook, by the Michigan Naval[318] Volunteers. When the guns were shipped to France all the Michigan men available were sent with them and formed the effective nucleus of every crew. They wore the marine uniform with naval insignia and were under naval discipline throughout; they went "fore" and "aft" on the great trains which accompanied each gun, pointed their pieces to "port" and "starboard" and were rated according to navy ranking.

Their great task came when the guns with their equipment first landed at St. Nazaire. Not only was it necessary to assemble the guns, but also the locomotives and accompanying armored cars. All of this work was done by the men of the two units as officers and petty officers. When these guns finally got into action, they outranged every battery on any front and, striking at the German railway lines of communication, now from this point and then that, they threw the whole "neck of the bottle" toward which the American forces were driving into hopeless confusion. Of the men in these two battalions over sixty percent received commissions, and of the others, almost all held high ratings as petty officers with responsibilities ordinarily only assumed by commissioned officers.

With so great a number of Michigan men with the expeditionary forces, the University was particularly interested in their welfare while "over there." From the first Michigan took a prominent part in the establishment of the American University Union in Paris, of which President Hutchins was one of the first Board of Trustees. Professor Charles B. Vibbert, '04, of the Department of Philosophy was appointed Director of the Michigan Bureau by President Hutchins and was made one of the Executive Committee in Paris. Here he rendered most effective service to the hun[319]dreds of Michigan men who used the club house, a large hotel in the heart of Paris, as their headquarters. He was also assigned as his special duty, the promotion of friendly relations between the Americans and the French people of Paris, and so successful was he in this task that he was awarded the Legion of Honor by the French government. After the end of the demobilization period he remained in Paris for a time as Director of a permanent Union which succeeded the war organization. Two other representatives of the University, Mr. Warren J. Vinton, '11, for some time Professor Vibbert's assistant, and Assistant Professor Philip E. Bursley, '02, one of the general secretaries, were on the Union's staff.

No review of Michigan's record in the war would be complete without a word as to the share of the Faculty. As never before this was a war of scientists and technically trained men. There was hardly a subject taught in the University which did not fit in somewhere, while the work of such departments as chemistry, physics, astronomy, mathematics, and the various branches of engineering, to say nothing of the Schools of Medicine and the Colleges of Dentistry and Pharmacy, proved absolutely indispensable. Long before this country entered the war Dean M.E. Cooley had offered his services to the Government, when the crisis which he and many others foresaw, should come.

In all there were 162 members of the Faculty in various forms of war service, a large proportion of them in uniform. Among those to whom were assigned particularly noteworthy tasks were Dean Victor C. Vaughan, '78m, of the Medical Advisory Board of the Council of National Defense and later Colonel on the staff of the Surgeon-General in Washington, where was also Dr. Walter R. Parker, '88e, Professor[320] of Ophthalmology, who as Lieutenant-Colonel in the Medical Corps had charge of head surgery. Dr. Udo J. Wile, Professor of Dermatology, Major in the Medical Corps, was among the earliest medical officers abroad, where he was in charge of the first American hospital in England, near Liverpool.

In the Literary College, among the many who early entered service were Jesse S. Reeves, Professor of Political Science, who entered the Aviation Service and later the Judge Advocates' Department, holding the rank of major; Peter Field, Associate Professor of Mathematics, who, as Major in the Ordnance Department, had charge of the tests and ballistic computations, as well as serving as armament officer, at the Sandy Hook proving grounds; Moses Gomberg, '90, Professor of Organic Chemistry, who as Major in the Ordnance Service made valuable investigations, and Professor H.R. Cross of the Department of Fine Arts, who held an important post with the Red Cross in Italy.

The men of technical training of the Engineering Faculty were especially in demand and practically every man in one Department, that of Chemical Engineering was in service. Alfred H. White, '93, Professor of Chemical Engineering, became Lieutenant-Colonel in charge of the construction of the great government nitrate plants; Walter T. Fishleigh, '02, '06e, Associate Professor of Automobile Engineering, as Lieutenant-Colonel, was, with Major Gordon Stoner, '04, '06l, Professor of Law in the University, in charge of the design and purchase of all the ambulances for the Medical Corps. Lieutenant-Colonel William C. Hoad, Professor of Sanitary Engineering, took charge of the sanitation of the big training camps.

Many other members of the Faculty, in civilian capacities,[321] gave no less valuable services to the Government. Professor Herbert C. Sadler, head of the Department of Marine Engineering, became chief of the department of ship design of the Emergency Fleet Corporation; James W. Glover, Professor of Mathematics and Insurance, was a member of the War Risk Board; Dr. G. Carl Huber, '87m, Professor of Anatomy, carried on an extended series of investigations of the peripheral nerves, with the assistance of medical officers detailed to his laboratory by the Surgeon-General; David Friday, '08, Professor of Economics, was Statistical Advisor to the Treasury Department and later the Telephone and Telegraph Administration, while Dean Henry M. Bates, '90, of the Law School, and Professor H.C. Adams, head of the Department of Economics, also at various times acted in advisory capacities at Washington. Francis L. D. Goodrich, '03, was also Reference Librarian at the University of the American Expeditionary Force at Beaune, France.

With the end of the war every effort was made to bring the University back to normal conditions as soon as possible. The speedy demobilization of the S.A.T.C. made advisable the abandonment of the plan of a year of four quarters and the semester system was restored by February. The members of the Faculty gradually returned during the year, and by the fall of 1919 everything was as usual, save for the extraordinary enrolment, which totaled 8,057 students on the Campus during the year, with a grand total of 9,401 in all, including the Summer Session. This increase was largely due to the men returning from service to finish their abandoned work, or to take up a belated University course. Eighty men who had been wounded were sent by the Government Rehabilitation Division.[322]

Such an unprecedented number of students, which was larger by 1,500 than ever before, naturally brought with it many difficult problems, particularly in living accommodations. These difficulties were aggravated by the sharp rise in room rent and board, which brought hardship in many cases and was only adjusted by the prompt action of the Rooming Bureau of the Michigan Union, which made a complete survey of the city and brought pressure to bear in cases of outrageous profiteering. Equally difficult proved the question of teachers and class rooms in the University. This was only solved after many new instructors were engaged, a difficult matter at so late a period in the year, and the creation of many emergency class rooms. Special credits were also given the men returning from service, in some cases as high as fifteen hours, equaling a semester's work, in recognition of their special war-time experience and training and the new earnestness and appreciation of what a university education meant, with which they returned to their class rooms and laboratories.

University life speedily returned to its accustomed channels; only the service buttons, the modest ribbons in lapels, and khaki and blue overcoats remained to suggest the Campus of a year before. So great was the reaction from things military that the re-establishment of the R.O.T.C. in modified form came slowly. Eventually about 180 men, largely from the freshmen and sophomore classes, were enrolled in the artillery and signal service units under the two officers detailed to the University, Captain Robert Arthur and Captain John P. Lucas, who held the temporary rank of Lieutenant-Colonels in France. These courses promise much for the future, however, though during the University year the work is confined to technical training, with the[323] drill to come in the annual summer camps which every man enrolled must attend. Not only will men be continually in training as reserve officers, effective at once in an emergency, but also they will form a nucleus around which a really effective training corps for the general student body can be built at any time when the necessity arises. If this work develops as it should, and comes to form an integral part of university life, we shall have profited by one of the lessons of the Great War, and with similar courses installed in all our great educational centers, America will be ready, as she was not in 1917.

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[324]

CHAPTER XIV

THE ALUMNI OF THE UNIVERSITY

Just at present Michigan probably has the largest body of alumni of any university in the country. The total number of graduates in January, 1920, was 34,817, of whom 28,901 were living, while the total of graduates and former students was 60,463. Of this number 11,420 were known to be deceased. The number of addresses on the University lists at that time was 43,783. There are several reasons for this large alumni body. In the first place few universities have many living graduates of the classes which graduated before 1850; Michigan's oldest graduates at present are George W. Carter, '53m, of Boulder, Colorado, and John E. Clark, '56, Professor Emeritus of Mathematics at Yale. After her first few years Michigan had as many students enrolled as most of the other institutions of that time, while the extraordinary growth of the Medical and Law Schools in the period just after the Civil War probably gave her the largest number of students in any university.

This, with the great increase which has come to all universities and particularly the state institutions within the last twenty years or so, has given Michigan an unusually large body of alumni. There are, however, a number of universities, notably Columbia, California, and Chicago, which have had a very large enrolment of late years, and it is not unlikely that within a few years their alumni catalogues will contain more names than Michigan's. It may be remarked in connection with the relatively large proportion[325] of those who have not received degrees, about 42 percent of the total, that this number has been increased by war-time conditions, and that judging from former records it is about ten percent higher than in more normal times.

Michigan has always taken an especial pride in the fact that, although a state university, her student body has been recruited almost as much from the rest of the country as from Michigan; while there has always been a not inconsiderable proportion of students from foreign countries. This national enrolment has had a broadening and stimulating effect upon the student body and has given the University a powerful influence throughout the country. Her graduates are to be found in every state in the Union, though they are probably proportionately stronger in the states west of the Mississippi, whose development came just in time to attract the enterprising and vigorous youth who had his future to make and gladly seized the opportunity to grow up with the new country. Michigan, with her low tuition charges, even for non-residents, and her equally moderate cost of living, has been also pre-eminently a college for students of limited means. Thus, while there are many men of wealth among her alumni, they are almost all men who have made their own way, and have a position in their communities corresponding to their energy and proved ability.

For some years the attendance from Michigan, though it is somewhat greater now, has averaged 55 percent. This is unusually significant when the great extent of the State is considered, particularly since most of the students from the Northern Peninsula usually pass through three other states to reach Ann Arbor. Not less worthy of note is the fact that only about 39 percent of the graduates of the University live within the State, proof positive that Michigan, in sending[326] her students abroad, is performing a great service for the country. The percentages of alumni in other states is also not without interest, for while the neighboring states of Illinois and Ohio claim about 8 percent and Indiana 3.7 percent, New York has 6 percent of Michigan's graduates, while Pennsylvania has 3.5 percent, and California 3.2 percent. About 2.5 percent of Michigan's former students, or 1,093, live in foreign countries. Of these 318 are in Canada, 126 in China, 62 in Great Britain, 61 in South America, 51 in Africa, and 46 in Japan. Of the United States dependencies, 66 are in Porto Rico, 54 in the Philippines, and 17 in Alaska. These figures might easily be increased were the addresses of all alumni found, as there are, no doubt, a large number of "unknowns" in foreign countries. Of the total number of graduates and foreign students for whom the University has addresses, 36,492 are men and 7,291 are women.

This great body of alumni is in itself a powerful asset for the University; but the active interest and spirit of co-operation of the individual alumnus ordinarily needs a certain stimulus. This is supplied through the organization of the graduates into a general Alumni Association, as well as into local associations in most of the larger cities, and also through the organization of the various classes. This general scheme is followed in almost every American university, and forms one of the most significant of present-day developments. For the most part it is a comparatively recent evolution. Though the graduates of the earlier American colleges had a certain influence on the policies and growth of their institutions, it is only within the last twenty-five years that these associations have become a factor of recognized importance in every university. In fact this development is so recent that its significance is not[327] sufficiently realized, least of all perhaps by the alumni themselves; though the college president is apt to be very alive to the importance of the alumni in university affairs.

The desire to perpetuate college friendships and to revive memories of college days was undoubtedly the underlying motive which first brought the former students together in these organizations; and not a few associations have progressed no farther in their activities. This is as true among Michigan alumni clubs as elsewhere. But as university officers came to recognize other possibilities in these associations, efforts were made to secure their co-operation in many matters and especially financial assistance, in the establishment of funds for various purposes, the erection of new buildings and providing for certain types of equipment which might not properly come from the ordinary channels of college and university income. The Michigan Union, Hill Auditorium, the women's dormitories, and the Clements Library of Americana perhaps best illustrate this type of alumni support.

While in most cases the impetus toward this active co-operation and support on the part of the alumni came from the institution, in recent years the alumni have tended more and more to organize, not as an adjunct of the university administration, but as a body designed to formulate independent alumni opinion, and to make intelligent graduate sentiment really effective for the good of the institution. With this new phase of alumni activity came new elements—particularly the alumni secretary, maintained by the graduate body, the alumni journal, and the alumni council.

This organization of college graduates is distinctly an American institution. There is little to correspond in Continental universities, where they do not even have a real[328] equivalent to our word "alumni." In Great Britain, the graduates of the larger institutions have some voice in the policies of their universities and, in the case of the Scottish universities, they elect representatives on the governing body, as well as the chancellor and a representative in Parliament. But the lists of alumni are kept up only for what are practically political purposes, and such developments as local alumni clubs, or class reunions, are unknown; while there is ordinarily small effort made to secure financial support.

Alumni co-operation has progressed so rapidly within the last quarter-century,—the period covering the life of the Association at Michigan under its present form,—that we are apt to forget how recent is this movement in American universities. To glance through the average college or university history one would imagine these associations sprang full-armed, with no preliminary throes of organization. Suddenly we find the alumni asserting their desires in some important matter and thenceforth their voice has a recognized place in university councils. It is quite obvious that the significance of this movement among college graduates was not recognized for a long time. Everywhere the graduates were slow in finding themselves; and it is safe to say that an efficient alumni sentiment was almost unknown until within the last fifty years. But the seeds had been sown. Though Yale began her remarkable organization by classes as far back as 1792, and others may have followed her example, records of any further efforts in this direction are difficult to find until many years later.

The first attempt at a general alumni organization seems to have been a meeting of the alumni at Williams College at Commencement time, in 1821, to organize a Society of[329] Alumni. The purpose of the proposed association was set forth in the following words:

This does not seem an unsatisfactory definition of the fundamental object of an alumni body of the present day. Seventeen years later a Society of Alumni was organized at the University of Virginia, where, with perhaps a characteristic Southern emphasis on the social side of human relationships, the committee was instructed,—

Other universities soon followed with similar organizations. Harvard's Alumni Association was established in 1840; Bowdoin and Amhert came at about the same time, while the first alumni association at Columbia was founded in 1854. In the West an alumni association was started at Miami as early as 1832. The first years of these organizations were apparently a period of struggle, but the spirit that they represented grew, and eventually they made alumni influence everywhere effective to a greater or less degree, with the end not yet.

At Michigan, alumni organization has had a history similar to that in many other institutions. The University published a list of the first four classes as far back as 1848,[330] but the alumni did not become a united body until 1860, fifteen years after the first class was graduated. This first association was characterized as "somewhat informal in its nature," but the usual statement of the object was forthcoming. According to the preamble of the constitution these were,—

This Association was superseded in June, 1875, by an incorporated organization, the "Society of the Alumni of the University of Michigan," in which, notwithstanding its general name, membership was restricted to graduates of the collegiate department. A similar association of the Law School was formed in 1871 and before many years all the departments had similar bodies. But the interest taken was more or less perfunctory, and in 1897 a consolidation of all the departmental organizations was effected, resulting in the present Alumni Association of the University of Michigan, with ex-Regent Levi L. Barbour, '63, '65l, as its first President.

He was succeeded in June, 1899, by William E. Quinby, '58, of Detroit, who was followed in turn the next year by Regent W.J. Cocker, '69. Judge Victor H. Lane, '74e, '78l, Fletcher Professor of Law, was elected President in 1901, and so effectively has he served the interests of the alumni that he has been continued in that office for the past twenty years.

Two important steps were taken by the new Association immediately upon its consolidation in 1897. The first was the appointment of a General Secretary to devote his whole[331] time to furthering the interests of the alumni organization. Ralph H. McAllister, a former member of the law class of '89, was first elected to this position, but was succeeded in January, 1898, by James H. Prentiss, '96, who was followed three years later by Shirley W. Smith, '97, at present Secretary of the University. The present Alumni Secretary, Wilfred B. Shaw, '04, was appointed in October, 1904. The purchase of the graduate journal, The Michigan Alumnus, established in 1894 by Alvick A. Pearson, '94, was another significant step. The Alumnus is one of the oldest graduate publications in the country, with the Yale Alumni Weekly, established in 1891, and the Harvard Graduates' Magazine, a quarterly, which appeared a year later, its only predecessors. Both of these journals are published by private corporations, as was the Alumnus at first. In thus creating an officer whose sole responsibility was to the alumni body and in maintaining an official alumni publication, Michigan became a pioneer among Western universities, and was only preceded in the East by Pennsylvania, whose alumni organization had established her Alumni Register and appointed an alumni secretary in 1895.

The plan of organization of the Alumni Association at Michigan is very simple. The entire responsibility for the affairs of the Association rests with a board of seven directors (originally but five), who elect the officers of the Association from among their own number. Two directors are ordinarily elected every year at the annual alumni meeting, held during the Commencement season, at which any alumnus is entitled to a vote. The income of the Association, except for a grant of $600 a year from the University for advertising, arises entirely from the Alumnus, which at present has a list of over 7,000 subscribers, who are con[332]sidered as constituting the official membership of the Association. This membership is in two forms, annual members and some 1,500 life members, whose thirty-five dollar fees have resulted in an endowment fund at present amounting to over $38,000, the income from which is used for current expenses.

Since its establishment the Alumnus has grown steadily in influence, and may now be regarded, in some measure at least, as the official University publication. Limited as it is by the necessity of pleasing a constituency widely varied in age and interests, it nevertheless makes it possible for a large proportion of Michigan's graduates to maintain an effective and intelligent interest in the University.

But the work of the Association and its officers has not stopped with the Alumnus. The local alumni bodies and the class organizations form important links between the graduate and his alma mater, and the sentimental ties, as well as the altruistic spirit engendered by these associations have a vital significance for the individual graduate and for the University. Practically every class that leaves the University is organized for the purpose of perpetuating its college associations and many of the classes, particularly the earlier ones, have published extensive class-books and directories. Every effort is made to return to the University for reunions at stated periods, especially on the twenty-five and fifty year anniversaries. For some years also many classes have followed a plan which brings four classes that were in college together back for a reunion at the same time. The value of these annual home-comings has always been emphasized by the Alumni Association, and so successful has it been in making the reunion season interesting and stimulating that the graduates return in great numbers, some[333]times in a carnival spirit, and sometimes, as during the recent war years, with a sense of consecration and devotion. Thus it was easy to pass from the gay fun of a burlesque commencement in Hill Auditorium, which was the feature of one reunion season, to the commemoration of Dr. Angell's life and services in 1916, and the great patriotic meetings of 1918 and 1919, which struck the deepest chords of alumni sentiment.

No less effective in their own field are the many local alumni clubs in all the large cities throughout the country. This movement toward forming local bodies began in Detroit in 1869, and quickly spread, so that by 1876 the Michigan graduates as far west as San Francisco were organized. While the primary reason for the existence of these clubs is the maintenance of the social and sentimental ties inspired by the common love of their members for the University, stimulated usually by an annual dinner and, in many cities, by weekly or monthly luncheons, they have begun to discover means more positive and useful to justify their existence. From a vague, if none the less real, feeling of loyalty to the University it is an easy step to more aggressive measures. Thus we find the local bodies interesting themselves actively in the University's affairs, organizing subscription campaigns for the Union, raising funds for fellowships, and sending picked students to the University, interesting themselves in the ever-present athletic problems, and welcoming the President and other representatives from the Faculties who come to tell them what their alma mater is accomplishing. More than this, some associations are perceiving broader implications in their organization as representative college men and women,—for the alumnae, too, have very active clubs,—and are seeking opportunities for civic and social service in[334] their communities. At present Michigan has nearly one hundred of these local organizations of alumni which may be considered active, while there are many more who only need to have some task set before them to bring them into an active and aggressive existence.

It is only natural that, with this increasing participation of the alumni in university affairs, there should be an effort to provide some means for the effectual expression of their collective opinion. Perhaps the earliest and most striking example of this movement was the provision in 1865 for the election of Harvard's Board of Overseers "by such persons as have received the degree of B.A. or M.A., or any honorary degree," from Harvard College. This effort, which came only after a long struggle, was duplicated in Princeton, Dartmouth, later Cornell, and many other institutions. Even some of the state universities, whose regents are either elected by the people, as at Michigan, or appointed by the governor, as in other states, have made provision for direct alumni representation on their governing boards. Though this is not true at Michigan it is significant that of the eight members of the Board of Regents, six, Walter H. Sawyer, '84h, Hillsdale; Victor M. Gore, '82l, Benton Harbor; Junius E. Beal, '82, Ann Arbor; Frank B. Leland, '82, '84l, Detroit; William L. Clements, '82, Bay City, and James O. Murfin, '95, 96l, Detroit, hold degrees from the University and this proportion has held true for many years. The other two members of the present Board are Benjamin S. Hanchett, Grand Rapids, and L.L. Hubbard, Harvard, '72, Houghton. Shirley W. Smith, '97, also is Secretary of the University.

Lacking the stimulus of direct representation in the governing body, the alumni of the state universities have directed their efforts toward strengthening the general alumni[335] organization as the best available means of expressing the sentiment of an increasingly important portion of the university body. To further this desire alumni councils and other bodies with advisory powers have been established, though usually their status has been uncertain and their powers negligible, except as they voice a body of opinion which the university cannot afford to overlook. Thus the Michigan Alumni Advisory Council, established some years ago, composed of representatives from the local alumni bodies, has been for various reasons far from an effective body, though it contains the germ of a force which may become active whenever a proper occasion may arise. More competent, because less unwieldy, is the Executive Committee composed of five members of the Council and two chosen at large. This body, though it has only met semi-occasionally, has initiated several movements which have had a real influence on the relations between the University and the graduates. This has been particularly true in matters relating to alumni support for the Union, and the problems arising in connection with its administration.

In its earlier years the Alumni Association also undertook to keep up the alumni catalogue and maintained for some time a card index of the alumni. This task, however, eventually outgrew the resources of the Association, and in 1910 the alumni catalogue was transferred to addressograph plates by a special appropriation, and its maintenance was made a part of the regular administrative work of the University, with a separate officer, closely associated with the Alumni Association, appointed to maintain the lists and edit the catalogues. The labor involved in keeping this list of over 40,000 names even approximately up to date may be judged from the fact that the catalogue office now includes[336] four assistants as well as the Director, Mr. H.L. Sensemann, '11, of the Department of Rhetoric.

For some years the practice was continued of including in the annual calendar an "Alumnorum catalogus," which began in 1848 with the names of the fifty-six graduates of the first four classes. The list eventually became too long, however, and in 1864 the first General Catalogue was issued as a forty-page pamphlet which included 999 names. Four subsequent editions have appeared, in 1871, 1891, 1901 and 1911, in addition to a privately published volume issued in 1880. The slender pamphlet of 1864 became, in 1911, a volume of 1,096 pages which recorded 43,666 names, while the catalogue of 1921 will be even more impressive.

Though the interest and enthusiasm of the graduates is expressed in many less spectacular ways, the amount of alumni gifts is the most available standard by which the effectiveness of this support can be shown. Judged by this rough and ready approximation for a force which is in reality intangible and based on something finer and more spiritual than material gifts, particularly since it represents obviously only the sentiment of the few rather than that of the thousands who would do likewise if they were able, it shows nevertheless how responsively the University's alumni regard her call for their support. They have given their alma mater funds and property whose estimated value may be conservatively placed at from $4,000,000 to $5,000,000. This includes many gifts of small sums for loan funds, fellowships, and investigations in special fields, as well as the income from these funds up to the present time. Some of these gifts, too, are of such a character that no definite value can be placed upon them.

The total amount of such special funds in the hands of[337] the University Treasurer, largely arising from alumni gifts, is $843,815.40. It should also be borne in mind that this does not include the many gifts which do not come from graduates of the University, such as the Newberry Hall of Residence, the late Charles L. Freer's numerous gifts, including a fund of $50,000 for the study of Oriental art, the Lewis Art collection, the Stearns Musical Collections, Waterman Gymnasium and Ferry Field, or such buildings as Newberry Hall, now used by the Y.W.C.A., and Lane Hall, for the University Y.M.C.A.

Two of the larger gifts to the University have come through collective effort on the part of the alumni. The Michigan Union, made possible through the $1,200,000 raised by students and alumni, has been mentioned in another chapter. Alumni Memorial Hall, which stands just across the street, is also largely the result of comparatively small gifts from hundreds of graduates. It is an imposing building of classical outlines, designed as a memorial of the men who served in the Civil and Spanish-American Wars. It is intended to be at once an art gallery and the headquarters of the Alumni Association, which has a spacious reception room on the first floor and commodious offices in the basement, where the University Club also has a large and well-furnished room. The building was completed in 1910 at a cost of $195,000, of which $145,000 was contributed by the alumni, and was formally opened with an exhibition of Oriental art and the work of modern American painters under the charge of the late Charles M. Freer of Detroit, who loaned many of the pictures shown.

Other gifts arising from general alumni effort are the Williams Professorship fund and the Alumnae Hall of Residence for women, given to the University by the alumnae;[338] while Faculty, alumni, and student efforts have been responsible for several paintings, notably the Chase portrait of Dr. Angell, the portrait of Dr. V.C. Vaughan by Gari Melchers, and Ralph Clarkson's recent picture of President Hutchins, which is to hang with Dr. Angell's portrait in the Union.

The greater portion of alumni gifts, however, have come from individual graduates. These include such monumental benefactions as the Hill Auditorium, for which a bequest of $200,000 was left by the late Regent Arthur Hill, '65e, of Saginaw; the Martha Cook Building which was completed at a cost of about $500,000 by the Cook family of Hillsdale, the Betsy Barbour Dormitory, costing some $100,000 given by ex-Regent Levi L. Barbour, '63, '65l, of Detroit, and the great library of American history, with its special building, given by Regent William L. Clements, '82e, of Bay City. This library, which is reported to have cost $400,000, and has been judged by experts to be worth much more than that now, and the $200,000 building to come, represent a princely gift. Ex-Regent Barbour also gave, in 1917, a fund of $100,000 to be used for providing scholarships for Oriental women in the University. To this he added two years later property in Detroit from which the income alone, during the term of the ninety-nine years' lease now in effect upon it, will amount to nearly $2,500,000. The sum of $100,000 was also left by the late Professor Richard Hudson, '71, to establish a professorship in history, at present held by Professor Arthur Lyon Cross, Harvard, '95. Professor Hudson also left his library to the University, which has benefited by many similar gifts from alumni, notably the historical books given by Clarence M. Burton, '73, the library of Thomas S. Jerome, '84, of Capri, Italy, and the musical library presented by Frederick and Frederick K. Stearns, '73-'76, as[339] well as the libraries of several members of the Faculties given the University upon their death. These include the library in Romance Literature of Professor Edward L. Walter, '68, the philosophical library of Professor George S. Morris, '81 (hon.), the Germanic Library of Professor George A. Hench, the geological library of Professor Israel C. Russell, and the classical library of Professor Elisha Jones, '59.

Too numerous to mention in detail are the many special gifts for research, such as the continual funds for the work of the University Museum supplied by Bryant Walker, '76, of Detroit, or the large telescope and other gifts to the Department of Astronomy by Robert P. Lamont, '91e, of Chicago, or for fellowships, the purchase of books, educational material, and scientific apparatus, as well as the numerous funds left for various designated purposes and administered by the University.

The various memorials left by the graduating classes should not be forgotten in this connection, though some of them, owing to poor judgment, have been ill-adapted to the purposes they were intended to serve and have more or less mysteriously disappeared. Perhaps the best known example was the ill-fated statue of Ben Franklin, long a Campus landmark, left by the class of '70. Early in his academic course he became the victim of the paint-buckets of successive classes, and eventually his outlines became so blurred that he was perforce retired. Aside from the tree-planting efforts of '58, the first class memorial was the reproduction of the Laocoön group, now in Alumni Memorial Hall, presented by '59. Reproductions of painting and sculpture were for many years the favored forms of class memorials, of which the most unique and valuable was the complete set[340] of casts from the arch of Trajan at Beneventum, presented by '96. In recent years many classes have left portraits of members of the various Faculties, while others have left loan funds which have been of inestimable service to many worthy but impecunious students.

The University chimes, a peal of five bells, presented by James J. Hagerman, '61, Edward C. Hegeler, and Andrew D. White, must not be forgotten. They are now in the tower of the Engineering Shops, whence they were removed when the old Library was torn down.

Perhaps the most far-reaching in its effects was the fund left by 1916. This was accompanied by a recommendation to the General Alumni Association that an alumni fund be created of which their contribution was to be the nucleus. The Association took measures to act upon this suggestion, but owing to the war and the preoccupation of the alumni in the Union, its establishment was delayed for several years. The plan for this fund, as finally approved in 1920, provides for an incorporated board of nine directors, the first members of which were appointed by the Board of Directors of the Alumni Association. This project, while still in its formative stage, has great possibilities for the future of the University, judged by the success of similar funds in other institutions. This is particularly true at Yale, where the alumni fund amounts to nearly $2,000,000 in addition to some $1,500,000 given for various purposes.

There are obvious advantages in thus organizing the stream of alumni gifts now beginning to flow so strongly toward the University. It not only provides a trustworthy and conservative body to which any gift may be entrusted, whether in the form of a class fund, individual contribution, or bequest, but it also ensures that all such gifts which are[341] unrestricted, shall be utilized wherever, in the judgment of the Directors, the University's need is greatest. The existence of such a fluid source of income properly administered can be made of incalculable benefit, particularly in the numerous critical occasions, when the regular income is entirely unequal to the emergency, though it is not proposed to relieve the State from providing for the normal needs of the University, but to meet the special demands which are continually arising in such an institution. Finally, the existence and administration of such a fund will tend to tie the alumni to the University as could no other agency, particularly if, as elsewhere, a good part of the income arises from small annual subscriptions, collected by a class officer, who remits the total as a class contribution.

Thus, though the alumni of the University have no direct voice in the administration, as have the graduates in many other institutions, they have established several agencies through which their natural desire to have a recognized share in University affairs may be expressed. These include first of all the General Alumni Association, with its many subsidiary class and local organizations, which maintains the Alumnus as its official organ, and with at least the outlines of an advisory body in the Alumni Council with its Executive Committee. The alumni also have further means of associating themselves with the affairs of the University through the power of appointment of a majority of the members of the Board of Governors of the Michigan Union and the Directors of the Alumni Fund, which rests with the Directors of the Alumni Association; while the four alumni members of the Board of Directors of the Union are likewise elected by the alumni at large at the annual meeting in June.[342]

With so large and widely distributed a body of graduates it is to be expected that many have become prominent in the life of the country, and in their professions. An analysis of the names of Michigan men and women in "Who's Who" for 1912-13 showed that, exclusive of the holders of honorary degrees and Summer School students, the names of 604 former students appeared, of whom 498 were graduates and 106 were non-graduates. This is approximately 3.2 percent of the total names given in that edition, and was 6 percent of the college graduates listed. There is no reason to suppose that the same percentages at least would not apply in a similar survey of the latest edition.

While it is, for obvious reasons, impossible to give the names of all graduates who have achieved a certain measure of distinction, a few who have attained special prominence in their special fields may be mentioned.

It is most natural that Michigan alumni should figure prominently in the educational world. Thus, among college presidents, in addition to President Hutchins, '71, Michigan can claim Charles Kendall Adams, '61, President of Cornell University from 1885 to 1892, and later, 1892 to 1901, of Wisconsin; Mark Harrington, '68, University of Washington; Austin Scott, A.M., '70, Rutgers; Alice Freeman Palmer, '76, Wellesley, 1881-87; Henry Wade Rogers, '74, formerly President of Northwestern, and later Dean of the Yale Law School; Elmer Ellsworth Brown, '89, New York University; and Stratton D. Brooks, '96, Oklahoma.

Aside from the many distinguished graduates on her own Faculty rolls, Michigan has also for many years been well represented in the faculties of all the leading American[343] universities. At Harvard these include Edwin L. Mark, '71, Professor of Anatomy; Paul Hanus, '78, Head of the Department of Education; and Edwin F. Gay, '90, until recently Dean of the School of Business Administration; at Yale, John E. Clark, '56, for many years Professor of Mathematics, and the late Professor Willard T. Barbour, '05, of the Law School; at Columbia, the late Calvin Thomas, '74, Professor of Germanic Languages and Literatures; Henry R. Seager, '90, Professor of Economics; at Dartmouth, Gabriel Campbell, '65, long Professor of Philosophy; and Frank H. Dixon, '92, Professor of Economics, later occupying the same chair at Princeton; where are also Duane Reed Stuart, '96, Professor of Greek, Christian Gauss, '98, Professor of Romance Languages, and Edward S. Corwin, '00, who now holds the chair of Political Science, formerly occupied by President Wilson. At Tufts, Amos Dolbear, '67e, was for many years Professor of Physics. The Johns Hopkins faculty roll shows the names of Henry M. Hurd, '63, '66m, Professor of Psychiatry; John H. Abel, '83m, Professor of Pharmacology; Franklin P. Mall, '83m, Professor of Anatomy, and Herbert S. Jennings, '93, Professor of Biology. At Cornell, Jeremiah W. Jenks, '78, was for many years Professor of Social Science and Economics and now holds a research professorship in New York University. L.M. Dennis, '85, is also Professor of Inorganic Chemistry at Cornell.

As is natural, many Michigan teachers are to be found in practically all the Western universities, although only a few can be mentioned. Thus at Chicago are Andrew C. McLaughlin, '82, Professor of American History, James R. Angell, '90, who was Professor of Psychology and Dean of the Graduate School until he became President of the Car[344]negie Foundation in 1920; and at Wisconsin, J.B. Johnson, '78, who was, until his death in 1902, Dean of the Engineering College, and George C. Comstock, '77, Professor of Astronomy and Director of the Observatory; while at Minnesota Edward VanDyke Robinson, '90, is Professor of Economics, and John B. Johnston, '93, Professor of Comparative Neurology and Dean of the College, and for a short period the late John R. Allen, '92e, formerly at Michigan, was Dean of the Engineering Department. At Ohio State University may be mentioned Stillman W. Robinson, '63, Professor of Mechanical Engineering until 1910, George W. Knight, '78, Professor of American History, and Joseph V. Denney, '85, Professor of English, and Dean of the College of Arts; and, at Nebraska, Herbert H. Vaughan, '03, Professor of Modern Languages. One of the oldest of Michigan's educators is Professor William J. Beal, '59, Professor of Botany at Michigan Agricultural College from 1871 to 1910.

On the Western coast, Alexander F. Lange, '85, Professor of German at the University of California, and Dean of the Faculties, has also served as Acting-President; while other representatives of Michigan are Charles M. Gayley, '78, Professor of English, Bernard Moses, '70, Professor of History and Political Science, and Armin O. Leuschner, '88, Professor of Astronomy. At Stanford are George Hempl, '79, Professor of Germanic Philology, Ephraim D. Adams, '87, Professor of History, and Douglas Campbell, '82, Professor of Botany.

Among Michigan graduates in foreign universities may be mentioned the names of Stephen Langdon, '98, Professor of Assyriology at Oxford, the late Alfred Senier, '74m, Professor of Chemistry at the National University of Ireland at[345] Galway, and Masakozu Toyama, '73-'76, Dean of the College of Literature at Tokio until his death in 1900, and founder of the study of sociology in Japan.

Though most of the men of attainment in science have continued in University positions, Robert S. Woodward, 72e, President of the Carnegie Institution, Charles F. Brush, '69e, the inventor of the arc light, Otto Klotz, '72e, Director of the Dominion of Canada Observatory at Ottawa, William W. Campbell, '86e, Director of the Lick Observatory, and Heber D. Curtiss, '92, at the same observatory, may be mentioned as exceptions. All but the last were graduates of the Engineering Department, among whose graduates are also to be numbered A.A. Robinson, '69e, the late President of the Santa Fé and Mexican Central railroads, Alfred Noble, '70e, until his death the leading American engineer, Henry G. Prout, '71e, one time governor of the Equatorial Provinces of Africa and later editor of the Railroad Gazette, Cornelius Donovan, '72e, the builder of the great jetties at the mouth of the Mississippi, Joseph Ripley, '76, the designer of the Panama Canal locks, and Howard Coffin, '03, automobile engineer, and chairman of the war-time aviation board.

Aside from the graduates of the Medical School who have made distinguished records on other medical faculties, the names of many prominent practitioners and medical writers might be mentioned, including Edmund Andrews, '49, '52m, an organizer of the Medical School of Northwestern University, and founder of the Chicago Academy of Sciences, Lewis S.F. Pilcher, '66m, the founder of The Annals of Surgery, William J. Mayo, '83m, the distinguished surgeon of Rochester, Minnesota, and Woods Hutchinson, '84m, of New York, a popular writer on medical subjects. Among[346] the Michigan graduates who have made a record in the legal profession are to be found an unusual number of distinguished occupants of the bench, including William L. Day, '70, of the United States Supreme Court, who was Secretary of State under McKinley and Chairman of the Board of Peace Commissioners after the war with Spain, William B. Gilbert, '72l, Judge of the Ninth U.S. Circuit at Portland, Oregon, Loyal E. Knappen, '73, and Arthur Dennison, '83l, of the Sixth Circuit, and Francis E. Baker, '82l, of the Seventh Circuit. There are twelve other Michigan graduates in the Federal District judiciary in addition to John E. Carland, l'74-'75, Circuit Judge assigned to the Court of Commerce at Washington, and Fenton W. Booth, '92l, of the U.S. Court of Claims. Among legal authors are Melvin M. Bigelow, '66, '68l, Dean of the Boston University Law School, and recognized authority on jurisprudence and legal history, William W. Cook, '80, '82l, who not only has been a great benefactor to the University, but is perhaps the best-known author on private corporations, as well as counsel for several of the leading telegraph and cable companies.

Among the graduates of the University in high government positions have been Don M. Dickinson, '67, Postmaster-General under Cleveland, and J. Sterling Morton, '54, Secretary of Agriculture during Cleveland's second term, when Edwin F. Uhl, '62, was also acting Secretary of State and later Ambassador to Germany. Other diplomatic posts have been filled by Thomas W. Palmer, '49, Minister to Spain under Harrison, William E. Quinby, '58, Minister to Holland under Cleveland, Thomas J. O'Brien, '65l, Minister to Denmark and later Ambassador to Japan and Italy under Roosevelt and Taft, and William Graves Sharp, '81l, Ambassador to France under Wilson. Michigan has for many years had[347] a large representation in both Houses of Congress; for example in 1913 there were eight former students of the University in the Senate, of whom five held degrees, and twenty-two in the House. Senator Cushman K. Davis, '57, who died in 1900, was among the conspicuous leaders of his time, while of the present generation are Porter J. McCumber, '80l, of North Dakota, Gilbert Hitchcock, 81l, of Nebraska, and Charles S. Thomas, '71l, and John F. Shafroth, '75, of Colorado.

In various forms of public service as well as in the business world Michigan's graduates occupy prominent places: William C. Braisted, '83, is Surgeon-General of the Navy, Laurence Maxwell, '74, succeeded Charles H. Aldrich, '75, as Solicitor-General of the State Department in 1893, Major-General John Biddle, who left the University for West Point in 1877, served as chief of staff, and later head of the American forces in England during the world war, Charles S. Burch, '75, is now Bishop of the New York Diocese, Dean C. Worcester, '89, was Secretary of the Interior on the Philippine Commission, Charles B. Warren, '91, has been counsel for this country before the Hague Tribunal, Royal S. Copeland, '84h, is Health Commissioner for New York City, and Earl D. Babst, '93, is President of the American Sugar Refining Company. Among architects Michigan numbers Irving K. Pond, '79, the designer of the Union, and President of the American Institute of Architects, 1910-11, and among landscape architects, O.C. Simonds, '78e, of Chicago.

Many alumni have turned to literature, and the names of not a few, particularly among the more recent graduates, are continuously appearing in different magazines and reviews. Particularly well known are Stewart Edward White, '95,[348] Katharine Holland Brown, '98, Franklin P. Adams, '03, and Harry A. Franck, '03, no less well known as an unconventional traveler. Michigan has also left her mark in journalism, from Liberty E. Holden, '58, editor and publisher of the Cleveland Plain Dealer and William E. Quinby, of the same class, of the old Detroit Free Press, to Edward S. Beck, '93, managing editor of the Chicago Tribune, S. Beach Conger, '00, who was in charge of the European service of the Associated Press during the Great War, Paul Scott Mowrer, a one-time member of the class of '09, who was the Paris representative of the Chicago Daily News, and Karl Harriman, '98, editor of the Ladies Home Journal and author of "Ann Arbor Tales," (1902).

As with the men so with the women graduates of the University. Their ranks include, in addition to the President of Wellesley, many important positions in the university world, including Angie Chapin, '75, Professor of Greek, and the late Katharine Coman, '80, Professor of History and Economics, at Wellesley, and Gertrude Buck, '94, Professor of English at Vassar. Among alumnae particularly prominent in science are Mrs. Mary Hegeler Carus, '90e, the first woman to graduate from the Engineering College, who is president of a large manufacturing company and secretary of the Open Court Publishing Company, and the late Marion S. Parker, '95e, who as a structural engineer has had a large share in the designing of some of the monumental buildings of New York. Annie S. Peck, '78, is also well known as a traveler and mountain climber.

In the medical profession there have been many alumnae of prominence, notably Dr. Alice Hamilton, '93m, who has recently become Assistant Professor of Industrial Medicine in the Harvard Medical School, and Dr. Harriet Alexander,[349] who has become an authority on diseases of the nervous system. Two Chinese graduates of the medical school, Dr. Ida Kahn, '96m, and Dr. Mary Stone, '96m, have done a great work for their fellow countrymen in their large hospital at Kiu Kiang.

[350]

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[351]

TABLE I

The Income of the University, by Ten-Year Periods

Showing Principal Sources

---

[352]

TABLE II

The Faculty and Students

By Ten-Year Periods

---

[353]

TABLE III

The Geographical Distribution of Alumni and Students of the University of Michigan, February, 1920

---

[355]

TABLE IV

The Buildings of the University

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Footnotes:

[358]

---

[359]

INDEX

Act of 1817, 7.

Acts of Congress Concerning School Lands, 11.

Acts of State Legislature:
First Organic Act, March 18, 1837, 17, 165;
Supplementary Act, 1837, 18;
State loan to University, 28, 29;
April 8, 1851, Second Organic Act, 44, 166.

Adams, Charles K., 105, 115.

Admission requirements:
Medical, 121, 122;
Law, 134.

Agnew, John H., 32, 41, 96.

Agriculture, Chair of, 49, 97.

Alumnæ, Distinguished, 348.

Alumni:
Relations with, 86, 103;
Distinguished, 102, 104, 342-349;
Number, 324;
Distribution of, 325, 326;
Organization of, 326-330;
Alumni Association, 330-332, 341;
Local organizations, 333;
In University affairs, 334;
Alumni Secretary, 331;
Alumnus, Michigan, 331, 332;
Advisory Council, 335;
Catalogue, 335, 336;
Gifts, 336-340;
Alumni Fund, 340, 341.

Alumni Memorial Hall, 303, 304, 337.

Anatomical Laboratory, 123, 125.

Angell, James Burrill:
Declines offer of Presidency, 60;
Accepts a second tender, 63, 67;
Birth and early life, 65, 66;
Educational ideals, 68;
In the public service, 67;
Characteristics, 70, 76-78;
Administration, review of, 71-76;
Difficulties of, 72-75;
Resignation, 79;
Quarter Centennial Anniversary, 88;
References, 16, 103, 113.

Ann Arbor:
In early days, 23, 172;
Description of, 268, 272;
First settlers, 269;
Origin of name, 269, 270;
Early life in, 270-272;
German settlers, 272-273;
Churches, 197, 273;
Newspapers, 274, 275;
Schools, 275, 276;
Town and gown, students, 277-280;
Advantages as site for University, 282, 283;
Future development of, 295.

Ann Arbor Land Company, 23, 282.

Anniversaries:
Semi-Centennial, 87;
Seventy-fifth, 88;
President Angell's quarter centennial, 88.

Appropriations, legislative, 58, 85, 118, 171.

Architecture, College of, 140.

Astronomy, Department of, 110; see Observatory.

Athletic Association:
First organized, 239;
Board of Control, 239;
Organized, 251, 252;
Ferry Field, 237.

Athletics:
In general, 233;
In early days, 175, 234;
Development of, 237;
First organizations, 238;
Athletic Association, 239;
Baseball, 239-246;
Football, first, 246, 247;
General Review, 248-260;
Track Athletics, first, 260, 261;
General Review of, 260-263;
Minor sports, 264, 265;
Reforms, 256, 257;
For Women, 265;
General summary, 266, 267.

Attendance, 34, 49, 57, 71, 86, 117, 122, 131, 132, 182, 191;
Geographical distribution of, 231;
During war, 309, 321;
From Michigan, 232.


Barbour, Levi L., benefactor, 265, 338.

Barbour Gymnasium, 266.

Baseball, general review, 239-246.

Bates, Henry M., 135.

Beal-Steere Collections, 75, 111.

Benefactions:
Alumni, 86, 327, 336-340;
Biblical MSS., 156;
Freer, 337.

Bibliography, University, 158.

[360]Boise, James R., 97, 105.

Bolting classes, practice of, 180.

Botany, Department of, 111.

Branches of the University:
Authorized, 19;
Founded, 21;
Discontinued, 21, 34;
Justification for, 22.

Brünnow, Franz F.E., 54, 100.

Buildings, 26, 27, 58, 62, 95, 119, 129, 141, 142, 144, 145, 286-293.

Burton, Marion LeRoy:
Chosen as President, 89;
Inaugurated, 90.


Campbell, James V., 131.

Campus:
Selection of, 24;
In early days, 283;
Tree planting on, 284, 285;
Development, 286, 293;
Plan for future, 294.

Catholepistemiad, 7.

Chancellor, Lack of, 41, 43.

Chapel, 33, 194.

Chemical Laboratory, 58, 142, 149;
Shortage in accounts, 74, 75;
Buildings, 142, 150, 287.

Choral Union, 228.

Churches, Ann Arbor, 197, 273.

Clinical Medicine, Laboratory of, 127.

Civil War:
Effect on attendance, 298, 301;
Political Sentiment, 299;
Outbreak of war, 300;
Student drill organized, 300;
Alumni in, 302.

Classes, Early rivalry, 179, 184.

Class-day, 177.

Clements Library of American History, 338.

Clubs, student, 230, 231.

Cocker, Benjamin F., 106.

Co-education:
Subject agitated, 60;
Adopted by Regents, 60;
First woman students, 61;
General feeling, 61;
Scholarship, 213.

Colleges of State:
Early rivalry of, 20;
Co-operation with, 84.

Colors, Michigan, 205.

Commencement exercises, 178;
Change in, 179.

Comedy Club, 223.

Conference, Western Inter-collegiate, 246, 252;
Withdrawal from, 256, 257;
Return to, 259.

Congressional Acts. See Acts.

Constitution:
of 1835, 14-16;
of 1850, 43.

Constitutional Status of University, 167-171.

Cooley, Mortimer E., 139.

Cooley, Thomas M., 132, 153.

Council, Inter-fraternity, 212.

Council, Student, 183-185.

Cousin, M. Victor, report on Public Instruction in Prussia, 14.

Crary, Isaac E., 2, 14, 15.

Cricket, in early days, 234, 235.

Curriculum:
First, 31, 96;
Changes in, 57, 71, 103, 113, 114;
Combined literary and medical, 82, 129;
Literary and law, 82;
Special, 82.


Davis, Joseph B., 139.

Debating. See Speaking, Public.

Degrees:
Effort to limit degree-conferring power, 20;
Changes in, 114;
Doctor of Philosophy, 116;
Honorary, 116;
Juris Doctor, 134;
Engineering, 141;
Total in 1911, 132.

Demmon, Isaac N., 108, 120, 218.

Denison, Charles S., 138, 139.

Dental Surgery, College of:
Founding, 144;
First Faculty, 145;
Lengthening of course, 145;
Building, 145.

Denton, Samuel, 124, 275.

Detroit, 9, 25.

Discipline, student, 72.

Disturbances, student, 277-281.

D'Ooge, Martin L., 97, 105.

Dormitories:
First buildings, 26, 27;
Abolished, 30;
Women's, 282, 291, 292, 338;
Men's, proposed, 282.

Douglas, Silas H., 73-75, 94, 103, 142.

Dramatics, student:
Early efforts, 222, 223;
Comedy Club, 223;
Union Operas, 224;
Other organizations, 224, 225, 226;
Campus Theater, need for, 226.


East, athletic competition with:
Baseball, 242, 243;
Football, 248, 249, 258, 259;
Track, 261.

[361]Educational changes, University's share in, 3, 46-49, 59, 60-62, 69, 71, 72, 82, 127, 128, 134, 148.

Effinger, John R., 146.

Elective system of studies, 71, 113, 114.

Electro-Therapeutics, Laboratory of, 127.

Engineering, College of:
First establishment, 49;
Subdivision of Literary Department, 137;
Faculty, 138, 139;
Deans, 139;
Departments in, 140;
Building, 141;
Research in, 154;
Independent College, 139.

English, Department of, 108.

Enrolment. See Attendance.

Exhibitions, Junior, 177.

Extension courses, 84.

Expenses in early days, 33, 174.


Faculty:
First, 30, 32, 91;
Weakness in 1850, 39, 41;
Organization, 166.

Fasquelle, Louis, 32, 96.

Fees, 18, 33.

Fellowships, 117.

Ferry Field, 237.

Fine Arts:
Course first established, 97;
Department of, 112.

Fitzpatrick, Keene, 262.

Football:
General review of, 246-260;
Agitation for reforms in, 256-258.

Ford, Corydon La, 124.

Foreign students, 232.

Forestry, Department of, 113.

Fraternities:
In general, 207, 210;
Struggle over establishment, 34-38;
Growth of, 207, 208;
First chapter houses, 209;
Palladium, 211;
System at Michigan, 210;
Junior Hop and, 211;
Inter-fraternity Conference, 212;
Rules for rushing, 212;
Scholarship of, 213.

Freer, Charles L., benefactor, 156.

French educational influence, 9.

Frieze, Henry S.:
As professor of Latin, 98;
Acting president, 60, 99;
Characteristics, 99;
Love of music, 99;
Co-education, 60;
High school certificates granted, 62;
Other references, 141, 227.

Fund, Alumni, 340, 341.


Gayley, Charles M., 198, 200, 222, 247.

Geographical distribution of students, 231.

Geology, Department of, 111.

Glee Club, 227, 228.

Graduates:
Distinguished, 342-349;
see also Alumni.

Graduate School, 72, 83;
Origin, 102, 103, 114, 115, 149;
Organized as school, 115;
Development of, 116.

Grant, Claudius B., 169, 303.

Gray, Asa, 26, 30.

Greek, Department of, 97, 105.

Gunn, Moses, 123.

Gymnasium, first, 235;
Efforts for, 236, 237;
Present building, 237.


Haven, Erastus Otis, Professor of Latin, 97;
Elected president, 54;
Characteristics and policies, 56, 57, 150;
His administration, 58;
Relations with legislature, 59;
Resignation, 59;
Favors co-education, 60.

Health Service, 83, 187, 282.

Heating Plant, 292.

High Schools and the University, 62, 85.

Hill Auditorium, 290, 291.

Hinsdale, Burke A., 9, 19, 29, 109, 133.

Hinsdale, Wilbert B., 144.

Histology, Laboratory of, 126.

History, Department of, 107, 108.

Homeopathic Medical School:
First Faculty of, 143;
Buildings, 144, 290.

Homeopathic controversy, 58, 59, 73, 74, 143, 144, 167, 168.

Honorary degrees, 116.

Hospital, University:
First, 129, 289;
New building, 129, 290.

Houghton, Douglass, 30, 93.

Hudson, Richard, 107;
Benefactions, 108, 338.

Humanistic Series, 117, 155.

Hutchins, Harry B.:
Acting president, 81;
Elected president, 80;
Early life, 80;
Characteristics, 81;
Administration and policies, 81-86;
Resignation, 86;
Dean of the Department of Law, 135;
Why he came to Michigan, 150;
Other references, 218.

[362]Hygiene, Laboratory of, 127.


Industrial subjects, teachers in, 84.


Jones, Elisha, 107, 108.

Jones, Samuel, A., 143.

Journalism, student. See Publications.


Kearsley, Jonathan, examination by, 39.

Kelly, "Pat," 33, 272.


Laboratory, methods, 103, 115.

Land grants and the University Fund, 10, 11.

Landscape design, Department of, 113.

Lane, Victor H., 196, 330.

Lane Hall, 196.

Languages, modern, Departments of, 108.

Latin, Department of, 107.

Law School:
Organized, 49, 130;
First Faculty, 131;
Attendance, 132;
Building, 137, 287;
Library, 135;
Original admission requirements and plan of instruction, 133;
Lengthening of course, 134;
Professorships, 135;
Aims, 135;
Deans, 135;
Research in, 153;
Combination courses, 82, 134.

Law, teaching of, 135, 153.

Learning, higher. See Research.

Legislative acts. See Acts.

Legislative appropriations. See Appropriations.

Library:
General, beginnings of, 26;
First Librarian, 25, 117;
Funds solicited by Dr. Tappan, 48;
Growth, 57, 117, 118;
Old building, 119;
New building, 119;
Librarians, 120;
Gifts, 338, 339.

Literary Societies, 218, 219.

Lloyd, Alfred H., 115.

Loan of 1838, 28.


Marking system, absence of, 148.

Mason, Stevens T., 2, 13.

Mathematics, Department of, 110.

May Festival, 228.

"Mechanics," burning of, 180, 181.

Medical School:
Organization, 48, 49, 121;
Original building, 48, 95, 130;
Enlarged, 58;
Requirements for admission, 72, 121, 124;
For graduation, 72, 121, 129;
Proposed removal to Detroit, 73, 122;
Growth in attendance, 82;
First University Hospital, 129;
Combination courses, 129;
Laboratories, 125-129;
New Medical Building, 129;
Research in, 152.

Memorial Hall. See Alumni.

Memorials, class, 339, 340.

Michigan, State of:
Growth, 19;
Territorial, 9;
Character of inhabitants, 9, 10;
Relation to University, general, 164-171;
Financial support of, 58, 70, 85, 118, 171.

Michiganensian, 211, 213.

Military science, courses in:
First considered, 49;
First course, 138, 301;
R.O.T.C., 308, 309, 322.

Mill-Tax:
First granted, 58;
increased, 59, 70, 118.

Mineralogy, Department of, 111.

Mines, School of, 57, 138.

Monument, old, on Campus, 93.

Morris, George S., 106.

Music, Department of, 112.

Musical Organizations:
First, 226;
Organizations, 227, 228.

Museum, 288.


Nagele, "Doc," 124.

National Dinner, New York, 88.

Natural Science Building, 287.

Naval Tank, 141.

Newberry Hall, 195.


Observatory:
Establishment, 48, 100;
Enlargements, 58, 289;
References, 149.

Olney, Edward, 104.

Opera, Michigan Union, 224;
Songs from, 203.

Oratory:
Early training in, 177, 178, 218;
Department of, 112, 218.

Oratorical Association, 221.

Ordinance:
of 1785, 10;
of 1787, 5, 11.

[363]Organizations, Student, in general, 182.


Palmer, Alonzo B., 124.

Palladium, 211.

Pathological Laboratory, 127.

Pattengill, Albert H., 107, 253.

Payne, William H., 109.

Pharmacy, College of, 142;
Deans, 143.

Phi Beta Kappa, 149, 230.

Philosophy, Department of, 105, 106.

Physics, Department of, 110;
Laboratory, 288.

Pierce, John D., 14, 16, 17.

Pitcher, Zina, 2, 123.

Political Economy, Department of, 112.

Political Science, Department of, 112.

Pond, I.K. and Allen, architects of Union, 189;
I.K. in athletics, 247.

Prescott, Albert B., 110, 125.

Presidency of the University:
Creation of office, 44;
Dr. Tappan, 45-55;
Dr. Haven, 54-59;
Acting presidency of Dr. Frieze, 60-62;
Dr. Angell, 63-79;
Dr. Hutchins, 80-86;
Dr. Burton, 89, 90.

Psychopathic Hospital, 128.

Publications of University, 155;
Of Faculty, 150, 157-162.

Publications, college student, 213-217;
Early, 214;
Board in Control of, 217.


Recreation, early opportunities for, 175.

Regents, Board of:
Selection duties, powers, 41;
Relations with first Faculty, 42, 166, 167;
First meeting, 2, 23, 24;
Enlarged powers under Constitution of 1850, 44;
Change in method of electing, 43;
General characterization, 164, 165;
Relations with Legislature, 167;
Powers, 165, 166, 168;
Legislative acts and decisions concerning, 167-171;
Members of, 1920, 334.

Religion in the University, 40, 192, 193, 197.

Removal of Medical School, question of, 73, 122.

Research:
In University, 147, 148, 151, 164;
In Medical School, 152;
Industrial, 154.

Research Club, 83, 154.

Rhetoric, Department of, 108.

Rose, Preston B., 74, 75.


Sager, Abram, 32, 74, 94.

Salaries:
First, 2, 32, 58;
Reduced in 1873, 72.

Scholarship charts, 213.

Scientific collections, 288, 289.

Semitics, Department of, 113.

Seminary method of teaching, 71, 115.

Sewall, Henry, 126.

Smith-Hughes Bill, 84.

Societies, student, 229-231.

Songs, Michigan, 197-205.

Sororities, 209.

Spanish-American War, 304-305.

Speaking, public, 177, 178, 217;
Clubs for, 220;
Debating and oratory, 221, 222.

Special students, not candidates for a degree, 150.

State University System, 3, 9.

Steere, Joseph B., 110.

Students, distribution of, 231, 232.

Student affairs, committee on, 183.

Students, first, 30.

Student life, 33;
Early days, 172-176;
Later years, 182.

Students' Christian Association:
Organization, 194;
General character of work, 195;
Newberry Hall, 195;
Divided into Y.M.C.A. and Y.W.C.A., 195;
Re-established, 196.

Students' Lecture Association, 220, 221.

Studies, University of Michigan, 155.

Summer Session, 146.

Surgical Laboratory, 128.

Superintendent of Public Instruction, 16, 18, 26, 43.


Tappan Hall, 288.

Tappan, John L., 54, 118.

Tappan, Henry Philip:
Election to presidency, 45;
Life before coming to University, 45;
Characteristics, 50, 53;
University ideals, 46, 47;
[364]Administration, 48;
Appearance before Legislature, 51;
Strained relations, 52, 53;
Removal, 54;
Efforts for his reinstatement, 55;
Other references, 92, 115, 116, 148, 173, 181, 300.

Tappan Oak, 285.

Teaching, science and art of, Department of, 72, 109.

Ten Brook, Andrew, 32, 41, 42, 94, 272.

Town and Gown:
Friendly spirit, 277, 281, 282;
Student troubles, 277-281.

Track athletics, 260-263.

Traditions, student, 184.

Tree planting on Campus, 284-286.

Tyler, Moses Coit, 105, 115, 218.


Union, American University, in Paris, 318, 319.

Union, Michigan:
Founded, 185-186;
Organization and objects, 186, 187.

Union, Michigan, Building:
Need for, 186;
Judge Cooley's home purchased, 187;
Fund for, 188, 337;
Description of, 189, 190;
Control of, 190;
During war, 311.

Universities, other, in 1871, 69.

University, first, in Detroit, 9.

University Hall, 62.

University System, 151.


Vaughan, Victor C., 125.


Walker, James V., 131.

War, World:
Faculty in Service, 162, 319-321;
Honor Roll, 305;
Numbers in service, 305, 306, 314-316;
Preparations for, 306, 307, 308;
The R.O.T.C., 308, 309, 322;
The S.A.T.C., 310-312;
Special courses, 309, 313;
Investigations for Government, 163;
Women's share, 313, 314;
The Naval Divisions, 316-318;
Effect on athletics, 245, 259;
After effects, 321, 322.

War, Civil. See Civil War.

War, Spanish-American. See Spanish-American War.

Waterman Gymnasium, 236, 237.

Watson, James C., 100, 103, 104, 149.

Whedon, Daniel D., 32, 41, 42, 95.

White, Andrew D., 88, 99, 100, 101, 102;
Tree planting, 283-285.

Whiting, Joseph, 30, 93.

Williams, George P., 30, 92, 93.

Winchell, Alexander, 98.

Woman's League, 191.

Women, members of Faculty, 82.

Wood, DeVolson, 137.


Yellow and the Blue, the, 198.

Yost, F.H., 254.

Young Men's Christian Association, 195-197.

Young Women's Christian Association, 195, 197.


Zoölogy, Department of, 111.

Books

World

Index

Hellenica World - Scientific Library