The University of Michigan

by Wilfred Byron Shaw

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:

As I remember him, he was fully six feet tall, with a grand head set upon massive shoulders. A full suite of dark brown hair, worn rather long and considerably disordered, crowned and adorned his head. His face ... was pleasant and attractive though never exhibiting levity, and rarely, humor. The nose was large and somewhat Roman. The rather long side beard had not yet turned gray. His carriage was upright and dignified. I never saw him in a hurry. He was always approachable, but never familiar nor invited familiarity.

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 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:

"Where, O where, is Dr. Tappan?"

The answer was:

"He went up on Buff and Leo,
Safe now in the Promised Land."

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 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, 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. 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.