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-operati