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 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 general disorganization incident to the S.A.T.C. regime, 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 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 succeeding 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 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 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.

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 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 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.



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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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:

Wood! Wood!

Those of our subscribers who wish to pay their subscriptions in wood will please favor us immediately.

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

Has Removed his Office to the Court House in the South Room on the East side of the Hall. Those who call after bed-time will please knock at the window if the door is fastened.

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 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 $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 element 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 melee 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 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—

If the freshmen insist upon celebrating their transition state by the customary hints to citizens in regard to side-walks, etc., we think we cannot do better than call their attention to a wretched collection of rotten planks which lie along the fence on Division Street, not far from William.

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 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, 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 fraternities, 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 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 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, 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:

Without permission from any one, I began planting trees within the university enclosure; established, on my own account, several avenues; and set out elms to overshadow them. Choosing my trees with care, carefully protecting and watering them during the first two years, and gradually adding to them a considerable number of evergreens, I preached practically the doctrine of adorning the Campus. Gradually some of my students joined me; one class after another aided in securing trees and planting them, others became interested, until, finally, the University authorities made me "superintendent of the grounds," and appropriated to my work the munificent sum of seventy-five dollars a year. So began the splendid growth which now surrounds those buildings.

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 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, 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, Zooelogy, 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 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 zooelogical 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 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 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 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 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 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.

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 facade 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 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, 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 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.



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 declared. 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 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,—

With mind and heart and soul in heroic agony, as if long-formed opinions and long silenced feelings now burst into utterance.... In all Michigan's history this was the great historic occasion.

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 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 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 old envelope and clutched in his dead hand, forms an imperishable portion of Michigan's annals:

Dear Parent, Brothers and Sisters: I am wounded, mortally I think. The fight rages round me. I have done my duty. This is my consolation. I hope to meet you all again. I left not the line until all had fallen and colors gone. I am getting weak. My arms are free but below my chest all is numb. The enemy trotting over me. The numbness up to my heart. Good-bye all.

Your son Allen.

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.

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

* * * * *

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 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 Nancrede, 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 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.