The University of Michigan

by Wilfred Byron Shaw

The Regents also made a report sustaining the Faculty, and both were submitted to the Legislature, accompanied by a reply made by the seven reinstated students, who denied the charges. They even maintained that Rule 20 was a dead letter and that one of the Professors, when consulted at the time one of the fraternities was founded, did not disapprove, or quote this law. A memorial was also submitted by fifteen "neutral" students sustaining the Faculty and suggesting that the threatened legislation, which was advocated by the committee of Ann Arbor citizens, was the greatest obstacle to harmony. Unfortunately this legislative action was just what seemed inevitable for some time. The Ann Arbor citizens represented that the University was failing, and that the only way to save it was by an entire change in its organic law, the appointment of a new Faculty, and the recognition of that natural right of man—to form secret societies if he so elects.

Their case before the Legislature, however, had been weakened by the action of two students who had circulated a week or so in advance a garbled and caricatured form of the Faculty report, which had been submitted honorably to the students to enable them to make a reply if they so desired. This undoubtedly prejudiced the student case when the truth became known, and the net result was no action by the Legislature on any of the memorials. With the withdrawal of the bill, the Faculty and the Regents were left to handle the question as seemed best to them. In the meantime, however, the opposition to the suppression of the societies had become so widespread and aggressive that one by one the fraternities were "conditionally" reinstated in October, 1850.

While the upshot of all this hostility was, superficially, only a return to the status quo, the students had won their point. The germ of the trouble probably lay in the difference between the paternalistic attitude of the Faculty, traditional in all colleges of the time, and the beginning of a new and progressive spirit in University life. The students had been brought up in an atmosphere which developed individuality and self-reliance and they resented a meticulous regulation of their lives and doubtless contrasted it unfavorably with what they knew of European Universities. The whole fraternity struggle of 1848-50 may then be regarded, in part at least, as a successful effort on the students' part to ensure a different and more liberal policy toward student life and affairs on the part of the authorities.

Not the least of the troubles this contest brought to the University was the revelation of its weakness, not only the plainly evident lack of harmony within the Faculty, but also the practical demonstration it furnished of the Faculty's lack of real power. The reasons for this go back once more to the act establishing the University, which allowed the Regents to delegate to the Faculties only such authority as they saw fit, in practice not any too much, for the Regents maintained apparently a close and personal supervision over the University. This was shown by the habit of some members of the Board, notably Major Kearsley of Detroit, of conducting final oral examinations at the end of the term. Major Kearsley, a veteran of the War of 1812, was something of a martinet and prided himself upon his learning; so he usually gave the students a very hard time. He was soon dubbed "Major Tormentum" from majora tormenta, the name given big guns, or cannon, in a Latin "Life of Washington" then used in the classes. His visits finally ceased after the students found out how to deal with him and came loaded with "grape and canister," as one member of the class of '48 put it, to return his heavy fire.

From its earliest days the University insisted upon maintaining a non-sectarian character, but this did not imply any lack of religious training or supervision,—quite the contrary, as has been suggested. The scarcity of representatives of the cloth on the first Board of Regents did not pass unremarked, and it was but a short time before several clergymen, one a Catholic priest, became members of the governing body, to offset the preponderance of lawyers and politicians and to furnish the Board the benefits of their presumably wider experience in educational matters. Every effort was made, however, to keep a proper balance among the different persuasions, and all the Protestant churches came to feel that they had almost a vested right to representation, as the long list of "Reverends" in the first Faculty list shows. Professor Williams was an Episcopalian; Dr. Whedon, a Methodist; Professor Agnew, a Presbyterian; and Professor Ten Brook, a Baptist. Whenever a vacancy occurred, the question of religious affiliations was at least as important in the ultimate selection of the candidates, as any qualifications in the subject to be taught. This situation naturally led to a certain degree of rivalry, partisanship, and lack of co-operation in the Faculty.

To this the lack of a Chancellor during those earlier years only added further confusion. From the first the Regents had proposed the appointment of such an officer, but in the absence of any clear notion of their authority and his precise duties the matter was allowed to lapse, until the financial difficulties of the early years after the University opened made it clearly obvious that such an officer would be something of a luxury. The matter was settled by making each professor in turn President, or Principal, for one year, a practice which continued until the appointment of President, or Chancellor, Tappan in 1852. This alternation in office was approved as eminently democratic and as following the practice of the German Universities, the ideal of the time. In a report submitted by the Board of Visitors in 1850, the plan was commended and it was even urged that the monarchical feature of a Chancellor should be struck out of the Organic Law, and the system then in force thereby fixed for all time.

Nevertheless the plan was none too successful in application. There was too much opportunity for jealousy and too little central authority. This is shown plainly in the contest which arose over the hours of teaching as the numbers in the University grew. The emphasis in the curriculum upon the classics has been noted. This threw the burden of almost the whole course of study upon Professor Agnew after the services of a single tutor were dispensed with in 1846. Professors Whedon and Ten Brook were therefore called upon to assist him, which they did unwillingly, Professor Whedon finally refusing to hear further classes in Greek.

The trouble grew and finally resulted in the resignation of Professor Ten Brook in 1851, because of the opposition of three other members of the Faculty. In after years he came to consider this action a mistake; particularly as he had the respect and friendship of the Board of Regents, who brought about the downfall of his opponents within six months. This began in an action against Professor Whedon, who had for some time aroused opposition by his pronounced anti-slavery views. As a result of this feeling, on December 31, 1851, at the last session of the Board of Regents by appointment before a new Board elected under the new State Constitution was to take its place, a resolution was introduced requesting the removal of the Rev. D.D. Whedon for the reason that he had—

not only publicly preached, but otherwise openly advocated the doctrine called "the higher law," a doctrine which is unauthorized by the Bible, at war with the principles, precepts and examples of Christ and his Apostles, subversive alike of civil government, civil society, and the legal rights of individual citizens, and in effect constitutes, in the opinion of this Board, a species of moral treason against the Government.

This resolution seems to have expressed the real sentiment of the Regents; but the actual measure passed was a resolution declaring, that in view of the fact that a new Board of Regents was to take charge and appoint a President, it was expedient that the terms of Professors Williams, Whedon, and Agnew terminate at the close of the year. This was an out and out partisan matter, as there was no reason for such action inherent in the change of the governing body, particularly as it did not affect two members of the Faculty who had avoided participation in this family jar. The new Board chose, however, to act upon it and the three resignations were accepted. Professor Williams was later reappointed, as he had apparently taken a minor part in the opposition to Professor Ten Brook. This whole episode was most unfortunate and was brought about by the lack of a strong guiding administrative policy. Professor Ten Brook in his later review generously says of these men: "A stronger body of men of the same number was probably never associated in such an opening enterprise," and again, "We should find that their merits would be magnified and their mistakes diminished by a consideration of the complicated, and till then unknown difficulties with which they had to contend."