Her Majesty's Government, however, on the advice of the Governor-General, ultimately withheld their assent from the controversial clauses referred to.
Before the College was opened the Governors made a final effort to curtail the powers of the Board of the Royal Institution. They considered that with the erection of College buildings the duties of the Board in connection with the McGill bequest were at an end and that with any other buildings which might later be erected the Board was not concerned. They wrote to the Royal Institution and to the Governor-General setting forth their views. “If the Board's power is what is stated and assumed,” they said, “it will not be possible for the Governors to attain the object of the Charter.” They deplored the spirit in which the authority of the Board had been exercised. They assumed that James McGill intended his bequest to be administered by the Board only until buildings were erected and a Charter granted to a Corporate body, for the Board's control was primarily over grants from the Crown and not from private individuals. The Board had now, therefore, no legal existence, for the objects for which it had been created were gone. It was clearly apparent, in their judgment, that when he gave control of his bequest to the Board, James McGill thought public funds would be added to his gift; this, they believed, was proved by the stipulation of “ten years” after his death as the required term for the erection of the College; hence he had given his bequest to the Board simply and solely because they controlled public funds given for education. But practically no public funds had been regularly given; hence the Board's control automatically ceased.
It is unnecessary to follow here the Governors' subtle reasoning. They seem to have forgotten the Provincial funds granted from the Jesuits' Estates, and to be unmindful of the fact that they were at that very moment still pleading for a Provincial grant, as indicated in the letter quoted above. They justly emphasised, however, the necessity of providing a convenient power of management within the College itself and the ending of the dual control. It was absurd, they rightly contended, that every cent expended for a piece of stove pipe or a chair should be first approved by the Board. The Governors resented, too, the visitatorial power of the Royal Institution. “In what spirit,” they asked, “and for what purpose do they carry out the right of visitation?” Such power was useful, they declared, only for the purpose of interposing in the minutest details of the management of McGill College, although a Corporation and a board of Governors existed for that purpose; the Royal Institution, in short, was, in its connection with McGill, nothing more than “a source of interference and impediment,” and the Governors asked that the Legislature should investigate the whole situation with a view to remedying it. This appeal, like the others, failed to make any impression on the authorities, and the causes of friction were not removed.
In this atmosphere of discord and dissension and disputed powers the College buildings were opened on September 6th, 1843, and collegiate instruction was at last commenced in accordance with the founder's bequest. Twenty-two years had passed since the College had been established by Charter, and fourteen years had gone since its actual opening. They were years of doubt and uncertainty, of protracted litigation and differences, even of virulent wrangling and bitter strife. But amidst it all and in the face of all its obstacles, the College had gone slowly but steadily forward. Its sign-posts had pointed onward. Reading to-day the troubled pages of its early story revealed in a mass of musty documents written by hands long since folded, or dictated by voices long since stilled,—which then helped to shape its destiny,—we wonder how it survived. The explanation lies in the fact that the men who guided it, whether of Governors or of Royal Institution, were men of unfaltering faith; they believed in the future of McGill; amidst their disagreements and their controversies, they never lost sight of the founder's hope although their ways for the fulfilment of that hope lay often painfully apart. From the struggles of its early years McGill now emerged to be an established fact. The first of its buildings, the present Arts or Centre Building, had been erected and opened. The College had at last an actual home. But the days of its travail and its worry, its poverty and its depression, its fight for life itself, had not yet passed.
CHAPTER VI
The College in the First McGill Buildings
THE original College buildings were opened for the reception and instruction of students on September 6th, 1843. Only twenty regular students were in attendance during the first session, seventeen of whom took the Classical course and three the Mathematical course. Steps were at once taken to provide an adequate collegiate education as called for in the founder's will, and to organise the teaching and administration on as extensive and sound a basis as the available funds would permit. A few books and some scanty school equipment were received from the Normal School recently closed. The fees of students were fixed at £5 a year, of which £1 13s. 4d. was assigned to the Senior Professor as his portion, 6s. 8d. to the Bursar, and the remaining £3 to the “House Fund.” In addition, each student paid to the Registrar who was also Secretary and Bursar, a matriculation fee of 10 shillings which that official was allowed to keep for his own use. The fees were reduced a few months later to £3, of which the House Fund received £2 13s. 4d., and the Bursar 6s. 8d. Students under fourteen years of age and over eighteen were not allowed to matriculate into the ordinary classes except in very exceptional cases. The matriculation examination was at first mainly in Latin and Greek Grammar and the 1st Book of Cæsar's Commentaries. Students who failed to pass this examination were allowed to enter the College and were formed into a separate class. They paid an additional entrance fee of 10 shillings and an annual fee of £2, for which they were not to expect the attention given to other students. Students over eighteen were permitted to enter as “Fellow Commoners,” and were allowed the special privilege of dining at “the high table.” They paid a double matriculation fee, and their ordinary fee was twenty-five per cent higher than that of other students. For a brief time only there was a common dining-room, but because of financial storm and stress and the necessity for additional room this was in the end abandoned and the students boarded with the professors who had rooms in the College. Indeed, the willingness to accept students as boarders seems, in some cases at least, to have been a condition of appointment, and little choice in the matter was left to the professor. It was decided that all examinations for degrees should be held “within the walls of the College in the presence of all the officers of the University and College,” and that every candidate for a medical degree “must forward his inaugural dissertation to the Principal before the last day of March.”
Soon after the opening of the building, Principal Bethune and the Governors looked about for additional professors or instructors or tutors. In negotiating with prospective tutors it was pointed out that “no gentleman would be elected to a Tutorship who was not able to translate fluently the works of Horace, Xenophon, and Herodotus, together with the other Classical authors of that stamp; and that an examination of all candidates would be held.” One candidate inquired about rooms in the College for himself and his wife, but the Vice-Principal replied, “I must inform you that there will be no accommodation for your wife in the College at present, but that you will yourself be expected to reside within the College. The Tutor is not allowed his board during the long vacation.” In February, 1844, William Wickes, M.A., a graduate of Trinity College, Cambridge, was appointed Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy. He was promised £20 to defray his travelling expenses “as soon as it can be paid.” Mr. E. Chapman was appointed Tutor, at a salary of £100 a year payable, it was hoped, from students' fees, and his board and lodging; and the Rev. Dr. Fallon was appointed Lecturer in Divinity.