The appointment of the Principal, however, was a much different matter. The Principal was also to be the holder of one of six Chairs to be filled, and there were 21 applications for the post. The Council met on 14 May 1884, again at the Queen’s Head Café, and interviewed six candidates. Three young men were regarded as particularly serious contenders: William Edwards, a native of Denbigh who had three Firsts from Oxford, a Fellowship from Jesus College and had been HM Inspector of Schools in Wales; Henry Jones, aged 32, already well known in Welsh educational circles and arguably the ‘people’s choice’; finally there was Harry Rudolf Reichel, the youngest of the three and the unlikeliest candidate. Born in Belfast, the son of the bishop of Meath and of German extraction, Reichel had pursued a brilliant academic career at Balliol College, Oxford, with four firsts and a Fellowship of All Souls by the age of 24. A glittering academic career undoubtedly lay ahead, possibly in Oxford. The appointment of a Welsh principal might have been expected in Bangor, perhaps considered inevitable. But there was no unanimity over the choice of a Welsh candidate. Each candidate was put to the vote, and with one dissentient – Thomas Gee – Harry Reichel was appointed the first Principal of the University College of North Wales at the age of 27.
In May 1884 the Council also appointed five professors. Reichel himself was to hold the Chairs of English and History. Henry Jones took his defeat with equanimity and became Professor of Logic, Philosophy and Political Economy. W. Rhys Roberts (Greek), George Ballard Mathews (Mathematics), Andrew Gray (Physics) and James Johnston Dobbie (Chemistry) were also appointed to Chairs. It was, without question, an exceptionally gifted group of scholars. Jones became an internationally renowned philosopher and was knighted. Ballard Mathews, Gray and Dobbie all became Fellows of the Royal Society. Curiously, there was no Welsh department or Chair: a dearth of candidates was essentially the problem. A Welsh and Classical lectureship was considered in 1884,8 but the new College Senate could not recommend an appointment, and had to wait for John Morris-Jones’s arrival from Oxford five years later. As well as the Chairs, lectureships in Latin, modern languages and Biology were established.
At first, it had seemed that there was no available building in Bangor to house the new university college. However, in April 1884, it transpired that the Penrhyn Arms Hotel could be leased from the Penrhyn Estate for around £200 per annum. Built as a coaching inn in the eighteenth century, overlooking the harbour, it had seen better days. Yet with some adaptation and renovation it was to be a valuable first home. The kitchen and scullery of the hotel became the library; science buildings were subsequently added and one of the stables became a ‘smoking room’.
So on 18 October 1884, to an immense fanfare in the city, and with the motto ‘Knowledge is Power’ emblazoned over its entrance, the University College of North Wales opened. Flags appeared in windows, and an enormous procession – including several thousand quarrymen – to the University College building took place. The Royal Penrhyn Band marched, and local councils, schools, and various trades (printers, millers, bakers, for example) were all represented. It was ‘one of the most brilliant spectacles ever witnessed in this part of the Principality’,9 and was followed by a lunch (at which Mundella and others spoke) and a concert in the evening. As one political observer correctly predicted months before ‘North Wales and his wife will be there.’10
Once opened, with 58 students enrolled, there was no question of complacency setting in. The foundations were there to be built upon. J. J. Dobbie, a considerable scientist who delivered much-admired lectures, was instrumental in shaping the science programme in the University College to meet the needs of the economy of north Wales. In particular, he played a leading role in founding in 1888, and securing a government grant for, an Agriculture Department, and an imaginative scheme for delivering agricultural classes in various north Wales towns. Dobbie also had a keen interest in geology, but another much-favoured project – a school of mining and quarrying – was never to be realized. In January 1889, John Morris-Jones was appointed as a lecturer in Welsh, establishing the subject in Bangor and beginning an illustrious career during which he was to exert a profound influence over Welsh cultural and literary life. In 1890, prompted by Andrew Gray, who had studied physics and applied electricity and worked with Lord Kelvin at Glasgow, an electrical engineering department within Physics was established. A lecture-ship was added, too, in zoology, and student numbers had by this time reached a hundred.
It was not all plain sailing, however. As the University College’s first decade proceeded, there were demanding financial hurdles to surmount. The government grant of £4,000 remained unchanged, and additional funds had to be sought. But rural north and mid-Wales at this time was experiencing recession, and public donations began to dry up. In 1888, as a special Council committee was reviewing the financial position, Bangor’s professors anticipated one of its recommendations by agreeing to accept reduced payments. This allowed staff other than the professors to receive some increase. The Council accepted the offer, commending the professors’ ‘public spirit and self-sacrifice’.11 Some external help was also forthcoming. In 1890, Henry Tate generously donated £1,000 to a scholarship fund. Even more dramatically, in June of that year came news of the largest legacy the University College had so far received, from a Dr Evan Thomas of Manchester, and amounting eventually to £47,000. The ‘Manchester bequest’, as it became known, eased the financial difficulties and numerous developments (including that in electrical engineering) began to proceed.
Tensions – between Anglicans and Nonconformists, between Liberals and Tories, between Bangor and Aberystwyth – were never far from the surface in these early years. In 1889, the Council, led by Principal Reichel, objected to Aberystwyth’s continuing use of the title ‘The University College of Wales’, and wrote to Aberystwyth on the matter, although nothing came of this.12 Some of Bangor’s leading figures were also changing. Henry Jones moved to pastures new at Glasgow in 1891. Ballard Mathews tendered his resignation, though he was persuaded to withdraw it. The University College’s first indefatigable President, the Earl of Powis, died in 1891, and was succeeded by William Rathbone. In December that year, too, the Registrar, Cadwaladr Davies, resigned. He had encountered ‘periods of stress and trial’ in the post, and his health had been affected, but as the Council recorded he had been ‘of the greatest possible service’ to the new College.13 In 1892, he was succeeded by John Edward Lloyd, who moved from Aberystwyth and became Registrar as well as lecturer in Welsh history.
Just as the challenges caused by these events were subsiding, the University College became engulfed in scandal. At its heart were various assertions by the head of the College’s women’s hostel (the ‘Lady Principal’ as she was known) regarding the conduct of a 26-year-old female student, Violet Osborn. Frances Hughes, the Lady Principal, had firm, strait-laced views regarding the behaviour of women students, and she ran an uncompromising regime in the hostel. During the late summer of 1892, she expressed concerns over Violet Osborn’s conduct which were variously reported as accusations that the student was ‘untruthful’, was of ‘an impure mind’ and had engaged in ‘indecorous behaviour towards men’.14 Frances Hughes made a statement to this effect to the Board of Directors of the hostel – of which Principal Reichel and E. V. Arnold, Professor of Latin, were members. On 5 November, a small committee of the Board heard what was termed a ‘rebutting statement’ by Miss Osborn. Reichel and Arnold were convinced that the student’s behaviour was not in question, and made a joint statement to this effect on 10 November. Frances Hughes did not agree. The Hostel Board decided to take no action.
The accusations, however, were regarded as extremely serious by supporters of Violet Osborn, some of whom were prominent in the community. On 10 November, two such individuals, Dr Griffith Evans, a well-known bacteriologist, and Henry Lewis, later Mayor of Bangor and a significant local figure, demanded a full