The Story of

by Cecil He adlam Illus¬

trated by Herbert Railton

t r. iidon ;

/Udine House ^ Bedford Street

Covert Garden MCC* ♦ &

First Punusui'T* in ‘nus Kpition !<)!>/
Rki*rintwi> . IMI 1 „
R|'Viski> ICdition t*j?;

' 1 *w'A “ ! |”*i;irr ill,!! UMi'lMT. nf nh’U

* >| h u*! p • (>• " I 11«»\t \ • 11 .U’tn , / u<fr the Ofa,t:uwt

Oi.ipRr III,

- J // n'^nrtd
NTRJi n «.»‘l VI

4-
 PREFACE

IN revising my “ Story of Oxford ” for a new and

* cheaper edition, 1 have made some corrections, for
which my best thanks are due to the Reviewers who
suggested them, and some additions, which are mainly
intended to render this volume more serviceable as a
guide-book. In the beginning of Chapters II. and V.
1 have traced the development of Oxford as a city,
and the significance of Carfax as the centre of her
municipal life and the meeting point of her two main
thoroughfares. The Itinerary on the following pages
is based upon that conception. The reader who
arrives at the railway station, should imagine himself at
the foot of p. xiv., and, advancing boldly up the page,
he will be able, without much fear of losing time or
himself, to visit the various Colleges, Churches,, and
University buildings, which lie to right or left of the
High Street. Compact, information as to these build¬
ings and their contents will” be found in Appendices 1.
and IT, a continentaly upon them, together with .air
endeavour to place them in the history of Oxford, will
be revealed in the text, by a reference to the index.
On p. xv. is represented the street; which, starting - lrom
holly Bridge, runs at right angles (“ or as near as
makes no difference ”) to the High Street, and inter¬
sects it. at Carfax.
The visitor who has but a few hours to spare in
Oxford would perhaps do best if, on arriving at the
railway station, he made straight for Carfax, and
turning to his right down ft. AldateC, first visited
 Preface

Christ Church and the Cathedral. Then, returning to

Carfax, he should gain his impression of the High
Street, as, leaving S. Martin's, All Saints', Brasenose
S. Mary's (with RadclifFe's Dome behind), All
Souls', and Queen's on his left, and University College
and the New !examination Schools on his right:, he
makes his way to Magdalen. Here he should at least
pass through the Cloisters, and stroll along Addison's
Walk, even if he does not see the Chapel. Returning
from Magdalen let him take the First turn to the right
(Long Wall), and passing into Holywell, enter the
College on his left—New College. Here he must see
the Gardens, the City Walls, and the Chapel, and
passing through into New College Lane, he will find
the Bodleian awaiting him. From the Sheldonian
Theatre he will find access to Broad Street, and
turning to the left pass the gates of Trinity and Balliol
on his right The First turning to the right will bring
him to S. John's College, arid there is in its way nothing
in the world better worth doing than to rest in the
gardens of S. John’s ; and so home.

PREFACE TO FIFTH EDITION

The opportunity of a new edition has been taken to

make the alterations and additions rendered nei'essary
by the lapse ol years. Most notable among tin* latter
is that occasioned by the recent discovery (k^zX) of
John Davenant's Cues! Chamber, where" his friend,
William Shakespeare, was wont, as Aubrey tells us,
to lye at this house in Oxon, ' on his annual journey
into Warwickshire. (See pp. 26 and .jc.p)

vi
 CONTENTS
' PAGE
Preface • • . v

Itinerary . . . . . . • xiv

CHAPTER I

S. JFrideswide and the Cathedral. • • 1-2 2

Approach to Oxford—S. Frideswide—The Cathedral.

CHAPTER II

The Mound, the Castle and some Churches . 23-67

The formation of Oxford—Folly Bridge—Carfax—S.
Martin’s—The Mound and the Danes—Robert D’Oigli,
the City Walls and Castle—The Flight of Matilda—S.
Michael’s Tower—S. Peter’s in the East—S. Aldate’s—
Other Churches—Portmeadow—Osney Abbey—The
“ Bonny Christ Church Bells” — Tom Tower — The
Bishop’s Palace—The Oxford Jewries—The Physic
Garden—The King’s Palace at Beaumont—Rosamund
and Godstow—Crafts and Guilds.

CHAPTER III

The Origin of the University , * 68-104

Mythical Derivations—The Cambridge Boast—The

Alfred Myth—The Rise of Mediaeval Universities—The
Rise of Oxford—Students migrate thither from Paris—
Migration to Cambridge—The University triumphs over
the Town—University College and King Alfred—The
Story of S. Edmund—The Schoolmen.

VII
 Contend

CHAPTER IV

The Coming of the Friars . . • 105-16;

The Pluck Knur* 'Flu* Trey Friars--The Franciscan
Scholars.Grosselete,^ Adam Matslg Roger Bacon,
“Friar Bacon's Study " -The White Friars-• Beaumont
.Palace-—'Flu: Austin Friars and others -The 1 lenedietines,
Gloucester I Iall (Woivesier College), and Durham Hall
(Trinity Colics:/’)—kiehanl do Bury--Rrwlry Abbey and
the Cistercians-• Chichele and the Bcruaidines (S. John's
Collet/’) Smaller Religious foundations S„ Bartholo¬
mew’s - I Iospital o( S. John Baptist (, Magdalen College)
— The l'’riars’ Schools—Waites dc Meiton founds a
College lor the lraining ol Secular Cletgy.Merton
College — Exeter College and Otiel Colic;/', likewise bul¬
warks against. the Friuis -Canterlmiy College—Balliol
College due to the inlluenio of a Franciscan Friar—
Scotists and Thomists John Wyclitl -.Archbishop
Arundel suppresses LollardLm —Lincoln College founded
to combat it:.

CHAPTER V

The Medieval Student . . . - 170-27;

High Street.- S Mary's Church The Did Congrega¬

tion House—Mediaeval Libraries 'File 11 uiv-e sit y Chests
—The Chancellor’s Com t The Mediaeval Student--The
Old Halls—lnitiatinu of Students Their poverty -Dis¬
cipline— Cap ami (lown-Communers (Magdalen College)
—Proctors—Northerners and Southerners—Wild Irish¬
men -Migration to Stamford The Brazen Nose Knocker
-—-“Oxford Seholaisfull to light" hi ignition to North¬
ampton—The Black Death -The Riot of S. SHtolastica’s
Day-‘"Chatter of Edward 111.—Oueeii’s College—Law¬
lessness of Students leads to the development of the
College System—William ol Wykeham and New College
—Archbishop Chichele ami All Souls’ College-Tile
Divinity School The Duke Humphrey Library—
William of Waynllete and Magdalen College- Lambert
Simnel — Lady Maigaret and Women’s College—-May
Morning on Magdalen Tower,

CHAPTER VI

Oxford and the Reformation » . 274-31*

The New learning—The Oxford Press—Linacre,

Grocyn and Colet—Erasmus at Oxford.Creeks and
Trojans—Foundation of Corpus Christi College—The
\ontents

Plague at Oxford—John Skelton, Poet Laureate—

Cardinal Wolsey—The Charter of Henry VIII.—Wolsey
and Cardinal’s College—Henry VIII. and Christ Church
-—The downfall of Scholasticism—The Edwardine
Statutes—Magdalen College School.

CHAPTER* VII

he Oxford Martyrs . . - . 315-328

The Catholic Reaction—Cranmer, Ridley and Latimer

in Rocardo—Latimer and Ridley at the stake—Cranmer
recants—And recants his recantation—His martyrdom—
The Colleges of Trinity and S. John mark this epoch.

CHAPTER VIII

7,U%aheth, Bodley and Laud . . 329-354

The Visits of Elizabeth—The Earl of Leicester, Chan¬

cellor—Amy Robsart—Foundation of Jesus, the first of
the Protestant Colleges—Bodley—Wadham College—
Archbishop Laud—The Caroline Statutes—Convocation
House—Charles I. at Oxford.

CHAPTER IX

<e Royalist Capital . . . . 3 5 5-398

Parliament at Oxford—Puritans in a minority—The
Colleges pawn their plate for the King—A monstrous
regiment of scholars—The Parliamentarians occupy and
evacuate Oxford—It becomes the Court and Camp of the
'King—Chalgrove Field—Charles eludes Essex—Oliver
Cromwell—Fairfax lays siege to Oxford—Lord Claren¬
don's History—The Sheldoninn Theatre and Clarendon
Press—Anthony Wood—The Parliamentary Visitors—
Cromwell, Chancellor—The Restoration—Science be¬
comes fashionable—The Royal Society—Christopher
Wren—Charles II. and his Court at Oxford—The Wicked
Parliament—S. Edmund’s Hall—Restoration manners—
James II. tries to make Oxford a Roman Catholic Semi¬
nary—Expulsion of the Fellows of Magdalen College—
Jus suum cuique.
 Contents
CHAPTER X

Jacobite Oxford—and after . 399-408

l’AG B

•%! ”
irl.—

texsirsjK'^ 1 .A

Appendix ,
4O9-424

Index
425-436

X
 ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE

William of Wyheham ... , Frontispiece

Reproduced by kind permission of the Rev. W. A.
Spooner, J).D.; Warden of JVtiv College, Oxford

Hall Stairway, Christ Church 17

Abingdon Abbey . . . 26

GO
Cornmarket Street ....

The Bastion and Ramparts in New College » 32

City Walls . . ...
33
Chapel of Our Lady ....
35
Bird’s-eye View of Oxford . » facing 36
Oxford Castle .....
39
St Peter’s in the East . . , facing 49
Gables in S. Aldate’s Street . .
56
William Camden ..... facing 86
Reproduced by kind permission of the Rev. C. H. 0.
Daniel, D.D. j Provost of Worcester College,
Oxford

Radclijje Library from Brasenose Quadrangle gj

Oriel College ..... facing 113

Gables in Worcesier College . . . . j 1y

Gateway in Garden of Worcester College . 120

Doorway in Rewley Abbey . . . , 124

XI
 Illustrations

i‘A ;ic
Oxford Cathedral , , , , fanny 128
Old Gateway, Merton College » 1'32
Monastic Bui!dings, Worcester College .
I 44
St Mary’s Porch .... facing I48
Oriel Window, Lincoln College 0 l68
The High Street .... *
*73
Mary’s Spire from Grove Street * 179
A Scullion of Christ Church . facing 220
Reproduced bij kind permission of the Ren/ Rev. T. II
Strong, /)./>>,, i)m« 0/ Christ Church, 0)ford,
ana the Clarendon .Press, Oxford

Gables and Tower, Magdalen College . . 223

Magdalen College .... fuimr 226
Open-air Pulpit, Magdalen . 228
/*// . \ Jharrr
23S,
/« iVfw College .... •
2S5
Magdalen Bridge and Tower 267
Niche and Sundial, Corpus Christi College 1
Spire of Cathedral 283
The Grammar Hall, Magdalen College . facing 289
President’s Lodge, 7WV///y College
yy 304
The Chapel and Quad, Jesus College .
yy 3°9
Gardens, Exeter College
yy 3
Cook’s Buildings, St John’s 322
yy
Oriel Window, St John’s College . 326
yy
Courtyard to Palace ....
yy 335
Chapel in Jesus College . # , , 337
xii
Illustrations
PA GK

The Cloisters, College . • • facing 346

Q?/mz Elizabeth . . . . * 5) 348
Reproduced by kind permission of the Rev. W. H.
Hughes, M. A., Bursar of Jesus College, Oxford,
and the Clarendon Press, Oxford

From the High Street . . . . 357

Charles I. ..... facing 372

From the picture by Fdivard Bonver, 1648, reproduced
by kind permission of Sir William Anson Bart,
I). C.L.t Warden of All Souls’ College, Oxford

Fiew from the Sheldonmn Theatre . . 3^3

Oriel Windows, Queen s Lane . . .389

Dr Radclijj'e.402
From an engraving of Sir Godfrey Kn tiler's portrait,
reproduced by kind permission of W. Hatchett Jackson,
Eaq., Librarian of the Radcliffc Library, Oxford
 itinerary

Magdalen Bridge
(R. Cher well.)
Magdalen College, Botanic Garden,
Magdalen College School
Long Wall Street Merton Street
leading to Holywell Street and
Broad Street
Examination
Schools,
S. Edmund’s Hall, Logic lame
S. Peters in the East, .
Queen Street University
College,
Queen’s College,
New College

Grove Street Merton,

Holywell St.

Hertford _ All Souls',

Bodleian Radcliffe S. Mary’s'”
Library, Camera, Church,
. . Brasenose College,"””
Divinity Schools Oriel Street Oriel, Corpus,
Broad St.

Exeter, Lincoln, All Saints'

Church ^King Edward Street
Jesus, 1’url Street Cathedral (Ch. ()
Alfred Street
Market ___ Christ Church, ■
S. Giles’ Commnrket Carfax S. Aldate's St, leading to Folly Bride

S. Martin’s
Church,
J Union Society
New Inn Hall Street
Pembroke College,'
X- S. Ebbe’s Church

Worcester
College,
Prison
,\
Castle and .•
Mound, j
W S. Thomas’ Church
Railway Station.
XIV
nerary

Keble
O.3
Science
Museum
lumont Street S. John's College,
I? o
versity Galleries

Balllol Trinity
College, College,

Wad ham,

George Street Broad Street Holywell Street

S. Michael’s Exeter \^
!■ Ship Street
<u Sheldonian ^4X0
« Jesus Schools
Union S3 College a; Bodleian ^ ^
Society a cn Sx
o _ Lincoln New
Market Street
O S Coll,
S. Martin's, Market H All Saints’

Street Carfax High Street

Municipal
Buildings
Post Office

Pembroke Street Christ Church, Oriel,

j S. Aldate’s Church,
roke College,
Christ Church,
Cathedral (Ch. I.) Corpus,
River Cherwell

^ Broad Walks
Christ Church
Meadows
Folly Bridge
River Isis

XT
 "The famous four-horse coach,” which brought
Mr. Verdant; Green up to the ’Varsity, runs no longer.
But a motor-bus service connects London with Oxford.
The motor-omnibuses of the Thames Valley 'rra.et.ion
Company form a connecting link between those of the
London General. Omnibus Company (0//ikr.v .* 55 Broad*
way, Westminster) at Hounslow, Staines and Windsor,
and those ol the Oxford Omnibus Company, which run
between Wallingford and Oxford.
The distance from London (Marble Arch) to Oxford
is exactly fifty miles by the old road .
Messrs. Thomas Cook and Sons (Liidgate Circus)
organise a combined rail and motor service from
London and back daily during the sum mum*.
Steamers leave Kingston twice daily (0 a.m. and
2.30 P.M.), arriving at Oxford, via Windsor and Henley,
about 7 p.m, the following night. Or leaving Henley
9 a.m., arrive Oxford 7 p.m. the same night.

xvi
 CHAPTER I

S* Frideswide and the Cathedral

“ He that hath Oxford seen, for beauty, grace
And healthiness, ne’er saw a better place.
If God Himself on earth abode would make
He Oxford, sure, would for His dwelling take.”
Dan Rogers,
, * Clerk to the Council of Queen Elizabeth.

H Vetera majestas quaedam et (ut sic dixerim) religio com-

mendat.”—Quintilian.
Approach to Oxford—S. Frideswide—The Cathedral.

IT is with cities as with men. The manner of our

* meeting some men, and the moment, impress
them upon our minds beyond the ordinary. And the
chance of our approach to a city is full also of signifi¬
cance. London approached by the Thames on an
ocean-going steamer is resonant of the romance of
commerce, and the smoke-haze from her factories
hangs about her like folds of the imperial purple.
But approach her by rail and it is a tale of mean
streets that you read, a tale made yet more sad by the
sight of the pale, drawn faces of her street-bred people.
Calcutta is the London of the East, but Venice,
whether you view her first from the sea, enthroned on
A I
 Oxford and its Story

the Adriatic, or step at dawn from the train into the

silent gondola, is always different yet ever the same,
the Enchanted City, Queen of the Seas. And many
other ports there are which live in the memory by
virtue of the beauty of the approach to them : Lisbon,
with the scar of her earthquake across her face, look¬
ing upon the full broad tide of the Tagus from the
vantage ground of her seven hills ; Cadiz, lying in the
sea like a silver cup embossed with a thousand watch
towers; Naples, the Siren City ; Sydney and Con¬
stantinople ; Hong-Kong and, above all, Rio de
Janeiro. But among inland towns I know none that
can surpass Oxford in the beauty of its approach.
Beautiful as youth and venerable as age, she lies in
a purple cup of the low hills, and the water-meads of
Isis and the gentle slopes beyond are besprent with
her grey <c steeple towers, and spires whose silent
finger points to heaven.’5 And all around her the
country is a harmony in green—the deep, cool greens
of the lush grass, the green of famous woods, the soft,
juicy landscapes of the Thames Valley.
You may approach Oxford in summer by road, or
rail, or river. Most wise and most fortunate perhaps
is he who can obtain his first view of Oxford from
Headington Hill, her Fiesole. From Headington has
been quarried the stone of which the buildings of Oxford,
and especially her colleges, have been constructed.
Oxford owes much of her beauty to the humidity
of the atmosphere, for the Thames Valley is generally
humid, and when the Hoods are out, and that is not
seldom, Oxford rises from the flooded meadows like
some superb Venice of the North, centred in a vast
lagoon. And just as the beauty of Venice is the
beauty of coloured marbles blending with the ever-
changing colour of water and water-laden air, so, to a
large extent, the beauty of Oxford is due to this soft
S* Frideswide and the Cathedral

stone of lleadington, which blends with the soft

humid atmosphere in ever fresh and tender harmonies,
in ever changing tones of purple and grey. By virtue
of its fortunate softness this stone ages with remarkable
rapidity, flakes off and grows discoloured, and soon
lends to quite new buildings a deceptive but charming
appearance of antiquity.
Arriving, then, at the top of Headington Hill, let
the traveller turn aside, and, pausing awhile by “ Jo
Pullen’s ” tree, gaze down at the beautiful city which
lies at his feet. Her sombre domes, her dreaming
spires rise above the tinted haze, which hangs about
her like a delicate drapery and hides from the traveller’s
gaze the grey walls and purple shadows, the groves
and cloisters of Academe. For a moment he will
summon up remembrance of things past; he will fancy
that so, and from this spot, many a mediaeval student,
hurrying to learn from the lips of some famous scholar,
first beheld the scene of his future studies; this, he will
remember, is the Oxford of the Reformation, where,
as has been said, the old world and the new lingered
longest in each other’s arms, like mother and child,
so much alike and yet so different; the Oxford also
of the Catholic reaction, where the young Elizabethan
Revivalists wandered by the Isis and Cher well framing
schemes for the restoration of religion and the de¬
liverance of the fair Mary; the loyal and chivalrous
Oxford of the Caroline period, the nursery of knights
and gentlemen, when camp and court and cloister were
combined within her walls ; the Oxford of the eigh¬
teenth century, still mindful of the King over the
water, and still keeping alive in an age of materialism
and infidelity some sparks of that loftier and more
generous sentiment which ever clings to a falling cause.
It is the Oxford, again, of .the Tory and High
Churchman of the old school; the home of the scholar
3
 Oxford and its Story

and the gentleman, the Wellesleys, the Cannings, the

Grenvilles and the Stanleys. But the Wesleys call

Methnd‘ma MT alf’, MTd not Newman.

Methodism equally with the High Church movement
originated here. Old as the nation, yet ever new
with all the vitality of each generation’s youth reacting
„\e tS,°ber JWISf,ora1 of lts Predecessor, Oxford has
passed through all these and many other stages of
histoiy, and the phases of her past existence have left
Uprpn her’ in thouSht> ^ architecture and
in tradition, fo connect events with the traces they
have left, to illustrate the buildings of Oxford by her
history, and her history by her buildings, has been the
ideal which I have set before myself in this book.
Let oui traveller then at length descend the hill
and crossing the Cherwell by Magdalen Bridge, be¬
neath the grey tower of ever-changing beauty the
bell-tower of Magdalen, enter upon the' “stream-like
windings ot that glorious street,” the High.
So, over Shotover,1 down a horse path throimh the
thick forest the, band, of medieval Icholai, ui to
come at the beginning of each term, and wend their
way across the moor to the east gate of the city.
J. here is no gate to stop you now, no ford, no challenge
of sentmelson the walls. The bell-towers of S. Fridet
wide and Osney have long been levelled to the dust
but the bells of Christ Church and Magdalen greet you!
But not altogether unfortunate, though perhaps with
Oxford V° rUmlnatr’ r" he be wh0If he'iratisapproaches
Oxford by means of the railway. wise, he

Geole6 Wkh«nfirplanrati0n. °f the name is referred to by

MagTalen'in 1603 P°* Wh° "" * »><><* *
“ ^et.°^ Sir Harry Bath was not forgot
In the remembrance of his wondrous shot,
Ihe forest by, believe it they that will, 1
detains the surname of Shotover still”
5, Frideswide and the Cathedral

wili choose at Paddington a seat on the off side of

the carriage, facing the engine. After leaving Radley
the train runs past low-lying water-meadows, willow¬
laden, yellow with buttercups, purple with clover and
the exquisite fritillary, and passing the reservoir ere it
runs into the station, which occupies the site of Osney
Abbey, it gives the observant traveller a splendid view
of the town; of Tom Tower, close at hand, and
Merton Tower; of the spires of the Cathedral
and S. A!date’s; of S. Mary’s and All Saints’; of
RadclifFe’s Dome and the dainty Tower of Magdalen
further away ; of Exeter Spire and S. Michael s
Tower, and of S. Martin’s at Carfax. And at last,
very near at hand, the old fragment of the Castle:
“ There, watching high the least alarms,
The rough, rude fortress gleams afar
Like some bold veteran, grey in arms
And marked with many a seamy scar.”

Of the approaches to Oxford so much may be

said; and as to the time when it is most fit to visit
her, all times are good. But best of all are the
summer months. In the spring or early summer,
when the nightingales are singing in Magdalen walks
and the wild flowers spring in Bagley Woods, when
the meadows are carpeted with purple and gold:

“The frail, white-leaved anemony,

Dark blue-bells drenched with dews of summer eves,
And purple orchises with spotted leaves; ”

in June,, in Eights’ Week, when the University is

bravely ploughing its way through a storm of gaiety
and athleticism into the inevitable maelstronv of ex¬
aminations, when the streets are crowded with cricketers,
oarsmen, and their sisters, when the Schools and
College quads are transformed into ball-rooms and
many a boat lingers onward dreamily in the golden
 Oxford and its Story

light of the setting sun beneath the willows that fringe

the Cherwell—at these times Oxford seems an en¬
chanted city, a land where it is always afternoon.
But you will come to know her best, and to love her
perhaps more dearly, if you choose the later summer
months, the ‘Long Vacation. Then all the rich
meadow-lands that surround her are most tranquil,
green and mellow, and seem to reflect the peace o^
the ancient city, freed for a while from the turmoil ol
University life. Then perhaps you will best realise
the two-sided character of this Janus-City. tor
there are two Oxfords in one, as our story will show,
upon the banks of the Isis—a great county town
besides a great University. And as to the mood in
which you shall visit her, who shall dictate a mood in
a place so various ? Something of the emotion that
Wordsworth felt may be yours :
c( I could not print

Ground where the grass had yielded to the step*

Of generations of illustrious men
Unmoved. I could not always pass
Through the same gateways, sleep where they had slept,
Wake where they waked, range that inclosure old,
That garden of great intellects, undisturbed ; ”

or something of the charming fanciful ness of Charles

Lamb which may lead you to play the student, or
fetch up past opportunities, and so “ pass for nothing
short of a Seraphic Doctor/’ Or it may please you
best to spend not all your time among the bricks and
stone and mortar, ever-changing as they are in hue
and aspect, or amid the College groves and gardens,
rich as is their beauty, perfect as is their repose. The
glories of the surrounding country may tempt you
most. You may wander many happy miles through
cool green country, full of dark-leaved elms and furzy
dingles, with the calm, bright river ever peeping at
6 s
S. Frideswide and the Cathedral

you through gaps in woods and hedges, to Godstow,

where Rosamund Clifford lived and died ; to Cumnor,
the warm green-muffled Cumnor Hills, and those oaks
that grow thereby, on which the eyes of Amy Robsart
may have rested. You may choose to track the shy
Thames shore
“ through the Wytham flats,
Red loosestrife and blond meadow-sweet among,
And darting swallows and light water-gnats ”—

and, with the poet, learn to know the Fyfield tree, the
wood which hides the daffodil:
“What white, what purple fritillaries
The grassy harvest of the river-fields,
Above by Ensham, down by Sandford, yields,
And what sedged brooks are Thames’s tributaries.”

Whichever way you choose, you will turn now and

again to look back upon the spires and towers of
Oxford and Radcliffe’s dome, clustering together
among rich gardens and noble trees, watered by. the
winding, willow-fringed Cherwell and the silver
stream of Isis, “rivulets,” as Wood quaintly phrases
it, “which seem to the prying spectator as so many
snakes sporting themselves therein.” And so gazing
you will let your fancy roam and think of her past
history and her future influence on thought and the
affairs of State.
Within fifty years of their first landing the Northern
hordes had conquered the greater part of Britain.
Mercia, the border kingdom of the marches, had been
formed, embracing the site of Oxford; its heathen
King Penda had lived and died, the Mercians had
embraced Christianity, and Dorchester had become the
seat of a Christian bishop. But .it was not till the
eighth century a.d. that the vill of Oxford, an
unfortified border town on the confines of the kingdoms
of Mercia and Wessex, came into existence ; it was
7
 Oxford and its Story

not till the year 727, one hundred and thirty years
after S. Augustine’s mission to England, that a
religious community settled there. The history of
that settlement is bound up with the story of S.
Frideswide—Fritheswithe, 44 the bond of Peace.”'
For although the details of the legend are evidently in
part due to the imagination of the monastic chroniclers,
yet there is no reason to doubt the main facts of time
and place.
That Frideswide, the daughter of an under-king
named Didan, founded a nunnery at a spot where a
bank of gravel ran up from what is now Christ Church
Meadow and offered a dry site, raised above the
wandering, unbarred streams, set amid lush meadows
untainted as yet by human dwellings, and fringed by
the virgin forests that clad the surrounding hills, we
need not hesitate to believe, or that here Didan
presently built a little church, some traces of which
yet remain in Christ Church Cathedral. For the
rest, how Frideswide escaped by a miracle to Binsey
and lived there in the woods, in dread of the hot
courtship of a young and spritely prince; how that
prince was miraculously deprived of his sight when
about to assault the city in revenge for his disappoint¬
ment, and how from that.time forward disaster dogged
the footsteps of any king who entered Oxford ; how
the virgin Frideswide returned at last to Oxford, and,
after performing many miracles there, died and was
buried in her church—are not all these things told at
length in the charming prose of Anthony Wood?
The Lady Chapel of the Cathedral, bn the north side
of the choir aisle, is the architectural illustration of
this story in Oxford. It was enlarged in the
thirteenth century, and has the early English pillars
and vaulting of that period, but the eastern wall carries
us back to 8. Frideswide’s dav. And on the floor is
B ' ‘ '
S. Frideswide and the Cathedral

a recent brass which marks the spot where the bones

of the virgin Saint are now supposed to rest. Here
too is the Shrine of S. Frideswide—that shrine which
used to be visited twice a year by the Vice-Chancellor
and the principal members of the University in solemn
procession <c to pray, preach and offer oblations at her
shrine in the Mother Church of University and town.
This is the site of S. Frideswide’s first church. The
Lady Chapel is in a line with what was the ancient
nave, the central apse of that church, and there, at the
east end of it and of the adjoining aisle, are the rough
rag-stone arches which were built for her, and which
led, according to the ancient Eastern plan, into three
apses. And inseparably connected with S. Frideswide
too is the adjacent Latin Chapel, by virtue of that
window designed by Sir E. Burne-Jones, one of the
earliest and "one of the most beautiful of the artist s
designs, so lovely in its conception that, if you take
each picture separately, it seems like some perfect
poem by Rossetti translated into colour by a mediaeval
craftsman. But take it as a whole and the effect is
quite other than this. It is so full of subjects and
dabs of bright colour that it is dazzling and almost
unintelligible.
Burne-Jones had not grasped, even if he had
studied the glazier’s art. Apart from the fact that the
great predominance of fiery reds offends the eye, the
design is essentially one that has been made on paper
and not in glass, drawn with pencil and brush and not
in lead. Worked out on a flat, opaque surface the
fussy effect of the window would not be foreseen ; but
the overcrowded and broken character of the design is
painfully obvious when set up as a window. The
scenes here depicted form an illustrated edition of the
story of S. Frideswide.
In addition to the S. Frideswide window the three
' 9
 Oxford and its Story

east windows of the aisles and of the Lady Chapel were

designed by Sir Edward Burne-Jones (1870-6), and
executed by William Morris. Windows as well as
pictures, they exhibit almost to perfection the use of
simple figures with elaborate draperies. That in the
Lady Chapel commemorates Frederick Vyner, an
undergraduate who was murdered at Marathon. At
the end of the N. choir aisle is the superbly graceful
S. Cecilia window, and at the end of the S. choir aisle
is the S. Catherine window in memory of Edith,
daughter of Dean Liddell, Another window by
Burne-Jones, W. end of S. nave aisle, commemorates
Edward Denison,founder of “Settlements’7 in London,
The splendid fourteenth-century glass of the Latin
Chapel contains two figures of S. Catherine, teacher
of Frideswide and patroness of Divinity students,
and also representations of Frideswide herself and of a
Madonna and Child.1 This chapel was built on to the
rest at two periods; the first bay from the west is part
of the transept aisle, the second bay belongs to the
thirteenth century, the third and fourth were added in
the fourteenth, from which period the decorated vault¬
ing, with its bosses of roses and water-lilies, dates.
The chapel was used till recently as a lecture-room
by the Regius Professor of Divinity. The carved
wood - work of the stalls and desks should be
noticed.
Most of the old glass in the Cathedral was destroyed,
either by infuriated Puritans—for had not Charles L
worshipped here during the Civil War, and a University
Regiment of Cavaliers been drilled in Tom Quad ?_
or by well-meaning Dean Duppa, who wished to
make room for windoWs by the Dutchman, Van Ling.
Only one of his windows remains-—that at the west
end of the north aisle of the nave. It represents
1 The Madonna holds a sprig of hawthorn, an allusion to
Frideswide’s sojourn at Binsey, formerly called Thorn heme?
10
S. Frideswide and the Cathedral

Jonah and his gourd, which is wondrous green, and in

the back ground is a Dureresque Nineveh.
Didan’s or S. F rides wide’s Church was burnt on
S. Brice’s Day, 1002, when the general massacre of
Danes, which jEthelred the Unready, in a fit 0
misguided energy, had ordered to take place on that
day throughout the country, was carried out at Uxiora.
The Danes in their extremity rushed to S. Frideswide s
Church, burst open the doors, and held the tower as a
fortress against their assailants. The citizens failed to
drive them out. As a last resource they set fire to the
wooden roof and burned the church, “ together with
the ornaments and books thereof.” The Danes
perished in the burning.
Nothing now remains, save the parts that 1 have
mentioned, of the church which was then gutted.
But after the massacre the King made a vow that he
jvouid rebuild S. Frideswide’s, and the church he
then began to erect forms the mam part ot the
Cathedral as we see it to-day. _
Those arches, so plain and massive, over the
western bays of the north choir aisle and Cady
Chapel, were part of iEthelred’s transept aisle ; the
south transept aisle (now S. Lucy’s Chapel, with its
fourteenth-century Becket window)1; the walls of the
south choir aisle; the pillars of the choir and the
open triforium of the south transept—these are the
chief portions of the Cathedral which are thought to
be unrestored parts of iEthelred’s work.
It is now generally admitted that the Saxons, at
the date of the Conquest, were more advanced than
the Normans in the fine arts. Their sculpture was
more highly finished and their masonry more finely
iointed. We need not therefore be surprised at the
excellence and ornamentation of the work in Oxfor
Cathedral, which is attributed to this date, nor, when
1 The head of the murdered Archbishop was obliterated
in accordance with the order of Henry VIII.
 Oxford and its Story

we remember that iEthelred was the brother-in-law of

Richard-le-bon, the great church-builder of Normandy,
need we wonder at the unwonted magnificence of
iEthelred’s plans for this church.
The Danes soon took ample revenge for that
treacherous massacre. They ravaged Berkshire and
burned Oxford (1009). The climax came when
Sweyn arrived. The town immediately submitted to
him, and “ he compelled the men of Oxford and
Winchester to obey his laws ” (Saxon Chronicle).
JEthelred's work was interrupted by the coming of
Sweyn, and the King's flight to Richard's court in
Normandy. In the south-east pier of the Cathedral
tower there is a noticeable break in the masonry,
which marks, it is supposed, the cessation of building
that coincided with the close of Anglo-Saxon rule.
When Sweyn died iEthelred returned, and for three
years held Cnut in check. The work at S. Frides-
wide's was probably resumed then. The richly carved,
weather-beaten capitals of the choir, with their thick
abaci and remarkable ornamentation, partly Saxon and
partly Oriental in character, are eloquent of the exile
of iEthelred and of the influence of the Eastern monks
whom he met at the court of his brother in Normandy.
And they speak not only of Byzantine influence, pass¬
ing through Normandy into England, but also, through
the existing traces of exposure to rain and wind, of
the ruinous state into which the church had fallen when
“whether by the negligence of the Seculars or the continual!
disturbance of the expelled Regulars, it was almost utterly
forsaken and relinqueshed,. and the more especially because
of that troublesome warre betweene King Harold and
William the Conqueror.”

For the nunnery which S. Frideswide founded had

soon ceased to be a nunnery. By the irony of fate,
soon after her death, the nuns were removed, and the
12
S. Frideswide and the Cathedral

priory was handed over to a chapter of married men*

the Secular Canons, whom S. Dunstan, in his turn,
succeeded in suppressing. But the nuns never came
back, for, after many vicissitudes, the priory was
finally restored, under Henry I. (nn),-as a house
of the Canons Regular of S. Augustine. Some have
thought that Guimond, the first prior (1122), was.
responsible for the building of the whole church, but
he more probably found enough to do in re-establishmg
order and restoring the monastic buildings, xlis
successor, Robert of Cricklade, perhaps it was who
restored uEthelred’s church on the old plan ana
inserted most of the later Norman work, especially the
clerestory and presbytery.1 . .
The triforium and clerestory in the nave (roofed in
with sixteenth-century wood-work) give us an in¬
teresting example of the latest Norman or Transitional
style The clerestory consists of a pointed arch
enriched with shafts kt the angles, and supported on
either side by low circular arches which form the
openings of a wall passage . The arrangement of the
triforium is remarkable. The massive pillars of the
nave are alternately circular and octagonal, hrom
their capitals, which are large, with square abaci,
spring circular arches with well-defined mouldings.
These are, in fact, the arches of the triforium, which
is here represented by a blind arcade of two arches set
in the tympanum of the mam arch. The true arches
of the nave spring from half capitals, set against the
pillars, and are plain, with a circular moulding towards
the nave. The crown of these arches is considerably
below the main capitals of the pillars, from which the
upper or triforium arches spring. The half capitals
assist in carrying the vaulting of the aisles. _ .
The whole - arrangement, rare on the Continent,
is extremely unusual in England, but: occurs, for
1 Mr J. Park Harrison’s theory.. The usual view is that
the nave and choir and adjoining aisles and the lower part
of the tower were first built in the Norman style about 1175
13
 Oxford and its Story

instance, in the transept of Hornsey Abbey. The

pillars of the choir date, as has been said, from
iEthelred’s day ; the rest is twelfth-century restoration,
save the rich and graceful pendent roof, which accords
so strangely well with the robust Norman work it
crowns. The clerestory was converted into Per¬
pendicular, and remodelled to carry this elaborate
vaulting, which should be compared with that of the
old Divinity School, or Henry VII/s Chapel at
Westminster, and attributed, not in accordance with
tradition to the time of Wolsey, but to the close of the
fifteenth century.
The very effective east end is a conjectural restora¬
tion of the old Norman design, and was the work of
Sir Gilbert Scott, who also opened the lantern-story
and made many other sweeping changes and restora¬
tions, necessitated by the previous restorations of
seventeenth-century Dean Duppa, and the neglect of
his successors.
When Cricklade’s restoration was finished, or
nearly so, it was decided, in order to revive the once
so famous memory of S. Frideswide, to translate her
relics from their obscure resting-place (probably the
southernmost of the three Saxon apses) to some
notable place in the church. The King, the Arch¬
bishop, many bishops, and many of the nobility and
clergy gathered together to take part in this great
ceremony. The bones of the Saint were taken up, set
in a gilt coffin and placed on the north side of the
choir. Miracles were wrought at the new shrine, and
pilgrims crowded thither.
The money brought in by these means was badly
needed, both for the restoration which had been
begun and for the further restoration which was now
rendered necessary by the great fire which de¬
stroyed a large part of Oxford in 1190, and, whilst
14
S. Frideswide and the Cathedral

damaging the church, much injured the monastic

buildings. The fine old Norman doorway of the
Chapter house, which is attributed to Prior Guimond
(1122)5 still bears the red marks of that fire- The
Chapter house itself is a very perfect chamber of the ■
early English period. The rich and graceful carving
of the capitals, the bosses of the roof, and the curious
corbels, the superb glass1 in the side windows, the
beautiful arcade of five arches, pierced for light, which
fills the entire east end, complete and confirm, so pure
are they in style, so excellent in detail, the just pro¬
portions of this noble room.
Early in the thirteenth century was built also the
upper portion of the tower, and that lowly spire was
added, which appears scarce peeping above the College
buildings, modestly calling attention to the halt-
concealed site of the smallest cathedral m England.
Oxford is a city of towers, and domes, and steeples,
all of which possess their own peculiar character and
beauty. As different as possible from the perfect
proportions of Magdalen Tower or the ornate magni¬
ficence of the elaborate spire of the University Church,
this spire is low and simple—squat almost in appearance.
Its lowliness is easily explained. It was perhaps the
very first stone spire built in England. The masons were
cautious, afraid of their own daring in attempting to
erect so lofty a construction, octagonal, upon the solid
base of the Norman lower storey. In this first effort
they did not dream of the tapering elegance of the
soaring spire of Salisbury, any more than of the rich
ornamentation, the profusion of exuberant pinnacles,
the statues and buttresses, gargoyles, crockets and
arabesques, with which their successors bedecked b.
Mary’s or the Clocher Neuf of Chartres. Strength
and security was their chief aim here, though the small
turrets, terminating in pyramidal octagons, which sui-
1 The glass is mostly of the sixteenth and seventeenth
.5
centuries The foundation-stone of Wolsey s College at
Ipswich is in the wail beneath the east window.
 Oxford and its Story

mount the angles of the tower, are the forerunners of

that exuberant ornamentation.
In 1289 the bones of S. Prideswkle were again
translated. They were put in a new and more precious
shrine, near the site of the old one* Fragments of the
marble base of this shrine have been found, pieced
together and set up in the easternmost arch between
the Lady Chapel and the north choir aisle. These
fragments of a beautiful work are themselves beautiful;
they are adorned with finely carved foliage, intended
to symbolise S. F rides wide’s life when she took refuge
in the woods.
The story of the destruction of the shrine is a strange
one. Before the Reformation the Church of S. Prides-
wide and her shrine had enjoyed a high reputation as
a place of sanctity. Privileges were conceded to it by
royal authority. Miracles were believed to be wrought
by a virtue attaching to it; pilgrims from all parts
resorted to it—among them Queen Catherine of Aragon.
■ Such practices-and .privileges seemed to the zealous
Reformers, to call for summary interference. The
famous shrine was destroyed (c. 1548). The fragments
were used either at the time, or not long afterwards, to
form part of the walls of a common well. The reliques
of the Saint, however, were rescued by some zealous
votaries, and carefully preserved in hope of better
times. Meantime Catherine, the wife of Peter
Martyr, a foreign Protestant theologian of high repute,
who had been appointed Regius Professor of Theology,
died, and was buried near the place lately occupied by
the .shrine. Over her grave sermons were preached,
contrasting the pious zeal of the German Protestant
with the superstitious practices that had tarnished the
simplicity of the Saxon Saint. Then came another
change. The Roman Church, under Mary Tudor,
recovered -a*,'brief,"supremacy."'b The 'body of'Peter
S. Ffideswide and the Cathedral

Martyr’s wife was, by order of Cardinal Pole, con¬

temptuously cast out of the church, and the remains of
S. Frideswide were restored to their former resting-
place. But it does not appear that any attempt was
made to restore the shrine. Party zeal still prevailed.
Angry contests continued between the adherents of the
two parties even after the accession of Elizabeth.
At length the authorities of Christ Church were
commissioned to remove the scandal that had been
caused by the inhuman treatment of Catherine Martyr’s
body. On January nth, 1562, the bones of the
Protestant Catherine and the Catholic S. Frideswide
were put together, so intermingled that they could not
be distinguished, and then placed together in the same
tomb. “ lam coeunt pietas atque superstitio ” :—
Now mingled here inseparably
True Faith and Superstition lie.

Under the easternmost arch, between the Lady Chapel

and the Latin Chapel, is the richly carved stonework
and wooden superstructure of a late sixteenth century
Perpendicular chantry tomb, once thought to be the
third shrine of the Saint. But the matrices of two
brasses on the altar-tomb within prove it a chantry
chapel where masses were said for the couple buried
beneath. It is known as the Watching Chamber,
and was probably used for keeping watch upon the rich
offerings hung about the adjacent shrine.
In the Lady Chapel, in the first bay west of the
Watching Chamber, is the beautiful tomb, with re¬
cumbent effigy, of Elizabeth, Lady Montacute, who
crave (1346) to the Priory part of what is now
called Christ Church Meadows. The statuettes of
her children on the side panels record the costumes
of the period. In the next bay to the west is the
recumbent effigy of Alexander de Sutton, Ptior
in 1300, and in the last bay, that of a knight in full
19
 Oxford and its Story

armour, Sir George Nowers, a companion of the

Black Prince, who died in 1425., On the pier at the
foot of the latter tomb is the monument of one whose
works yet live, one to whom, as he phrased it,
Melancholy gave both life and death* The char¬
acteristic bust of Robert Burton, reminds us that the
author of u The Anatomy of Melancholy,” that
whimsical bookworm, lived and wrote and died (1639),
in Oxford, student of Christ Church for forty years,
and Vicar also of St Thomas'*
The medallions on the frame are eloquent of his
curious learning, for they record his calculation of the
nativity of u Democritus Junior.”
Under the Prior Guimond there was certainly a
school connected with the convent. Whatever the
origin of the University may have been—-and there
are those who maintain that it sprang from the schools
of S. Frideswide as naturally as that of Paris from the
schools of Notre Dame—it is pleasant to remember,
when you stand in the middle of Tom Quad, that you
are on the site of this, the first educational institution
of Oxford, just as when you stand in the Lady Chapel
of the Cathedral you are on the site of the old priory,
the mother church of the University and town.
Another faint echo of the priory days may be traced
in the annual Cakestall in S. Old's, which is a survival
of the Fair of S. Frideswide that used to last seven
days. During that time the keys of the city passed
from mayor to prior, and the town courts were closed
in favour of the Pie-Powder Court,1 held by the
steward of the priory for the redress of all disorders
committed during the fair.
The entrance to the Cathedral is through the two
arches in the cloisters, almost opposite to you as you
1 Pie-Powder Court—-a Summary Court of Justice held at
fairs, when the suitors were usually country clowns with
dusty feet—(■pied poudre). ,
20
5. Frideswide and the Cathedral

pass into Tom Quad beneath Tom Tower. This

curious entrance reminds you at once of the peculiar
position of the Cathedral as three parts College chapel.
Tom Quad is the largest quadrangle m Oxford (2O4
by 261 feet), and was begun by Wolsey on a scale
which is sufficient evidence of the extreme magnt cence
of his plans for “Cardinal’s College.” It was begun,
but has never been finished. The shafts and. marks
the arches, from which the vaults of the intended cloister
were to spring, are, however, plainly visible. Ut tne
old cloister of the monastery no trace remains save the
window and door of the chapter house; the fifteen -
century cloister that does exist is not to be
with that of New College or Magdalen. Oneside
of it was destroyed by Wolsey to mak\r0°"V°
the College Hall. On the south side of the cloister
is the old library, which was formerly the refectory o
the monastery. With the chapter house doorway it
survives as a relic of the old conventual buildings, in
quiet contrast to the splendour of the superb kitchen,
and the still more magnificent hall, with its valuable
collection of portraits.. The vaulted chamber, which
contains the staircase by which this hall is approached,
is one of the most beautiful things in Oxford, ihe
lovely fan-tracery of the vault and the central pillar
were the work of “one Smith, an artificer from
London,” and were built as late as 1640, in t e Je*Sn
of Charles I. It affords a striking instance of the
fact in architectural history, that good Gothic persisted
in Oxford long after the influence of Italian work had
destroyed it elsewhere. . f
To make room for this magnificent quadrangle of
his the Cardinal also destroyed the three western bays
of the Church of S. Frideswide. He had intended
to build a new chapel along the north.side of Tom
Quad which should rival the chapel of King s College
 Oxjord mid its Story

at Cambridge. But this work was interrupted by his

fall. The foundations of the chapel have been traced,
and they show that the west end ran in a line with the
octagonal turrets in S. AldateY Street, and the walls
reached nearly to PelPs passage into Peck water.
For its massive walls Wolsey used some of the
stones from the demolished Osney Abbey.1 The
building at the time of his fall had risen some feet
above the ground. Dean Fell, it is supposed, used it
as a quarry for tjhe construction of his own quadrangle.
Now, there had been constructed a new straight walk
in the Meadows, and Fell, anxious to improve it,
carted the chippings from his own work to lay on it.
The chippings were white, so the walk got the narrie
of White. This was corrupted at the end of the
eighteenth century to Wide Walk, and hence to Broad
Walk—its present name—which really describes it
now better than the original phrase.
The destruction of the western bays of the church
by Wolsey accounts for the shortened aspect of the
nave, slightly relieved though it is by the new western
bay which serves as a sort of ante-chapel to the nave
and choir which now form the College Chapel of
Christ Church. But the appearance* of the Cathedral
owes something of its strangeness to the fact that it
represents, in general plan, the design of King
iEthelred’s Church reared upon the site of S.
Frideswide’s.
1 Founded by Robert d'Oigli II. and endowed by him with
the southern half of the Island of Oseney, whereon it stood
(v. pp. 51-54). From Bernard of S. W'alery the Abbey
presently received part of the northern half of the Island.
The remainder, passing to Richard, Earl of Cornwall, King
of the Romans, was called after him King’s Place (rcgalis
locus), from which the Cistercian Abbey founded by his son
(1281) took its name, de rcgali km, the Abbey of King’s
Place, Rewley Abbey. The double-headed eagle on the arms
of Richard in the Cathedral Chapter House recall his title
of King of the Romans.
22
 CHAPTER II

,
The Mound the Castle and some
Churches

The formation of Oxford — Folly Bridge—CarfaxS.

Martin’s—The Mound and the Danes—Robert D Oigli,
the City Walls and Castle—The Flight of Matilda—-S.
Michael’s Tower—S. Peter’s in the East—S. Aldates—
Other Churches—PortmeadojW—Osney Abbey—The
« Merry Christ Church Bells’’—Tom Tower—The
Bishop’s Palace—The Gffofd Jewries—The Physic
Garden—The King’s PaMce fat Beaumont—Rosamund
and Godstow—Crafts andr Giplds.

npHE property of S./F/deswide’s Nunnerjt^was

* one of the chief elefcrentai^me fomptt^n of the
plan of Oxford.. ThTMis^df thep^hlation which
would spring upVm c^MonjptK it were probably
grouped on the neyfthern enclosure wall of
the nunnery, and 4l^€hpH^elves bounded on the north
by the road whichJ^esfwards becafeie the High Street,
and on the wesj/^y :hat which was afterwards named
Southgate then Fish Street, and is now known
as S. Aldate’s. This road, giving access from Wessex
to Mercia, was probably one of the direct lines from
the north-west to London in the tenth century. t
led down to the old fords over the shallows which
once intersected the meadows of South Hincksey, and
gave, as some suppose, its name to the town.1 Ihe
1 The earliest mention of Oxford occurs in the Anglo-
Saxon Chronicle under the year 912. It is there spelt
23
 Oxford and its Story

fords were superseded by the old Grand Pont, and

Grand Pont in turn by Polly Bridge.
Folly Bridge,1 as it now stands, was built a little
south of Grand Pont, the old river-course to the north
having been filled up by an embankment. The river
now marks the Shire boundary which was once marked
hereabouts by the Shire Ditch. Crossing the bridge
to the Berkshire shore, the road, wherein you may
still trace the piers of the old Grand Pont u linked
with many a bridge,” leads up to Hincksey. There
the modern golf-links are, and the “ lone, sky-pointing
tree ” that Clough and Arnold loved. And this road
it was which, in the poetic imagination of Matthew
Arnold, was haunted by the scholar gipsy.
The main road leads over the hill, which is crowned
by Bagley Wood, to Abingdon. That charming
town, where once the great monastery stood, was
Oxnaforda and Oxanforda, and in Domesday Book it is spelt
Oxeneford. Coins from Eadward’s day onwards show that
Ox at least was regarded as an essential element in the word,
and it is most easy to assume that the place was called after
the Ford of the Oxen in the river here, indicating a place
where oxen, but not smaller beasts, could cross. Compare
Rutherford which means exactly the same thing, and con¬
trast Swinford and Gosford, fords where swine and geese
could splash across. The easiest explanation is not always
the best. And a rival theory explains the name as a
corruption of Ouse-ford, or Ousen-ford, /.<?., the Ford over
the River. For the evidence is strongly in favour of the
probability that the name Ouse was at one time applied to
the Thames, which indeed has one of the dialectic forms of
the word Ouse retained in it, viz. Tanw,rc, though the
theory that the junction of the Isis or Ouse and Thame made
Tamisis = Thames, is fanciful. The other form of the
word is retained in the Oseneye of Osney Abbey, and a
tributary stream retains the hardened form Ock. Therefore
Ousen-ford or Oxen-ford may mean the River-ford. There
is no certainty in these matters, but modem philologists
prefer the former derivation,
1 See p. 116.
24
 ,
The Mound the Castle and Churches

separated in early days from the city by a great oak

forest. Wandering therein, book in hand, a certain
student, so the story runs, was met by a ferocious wild
boar, which he overcame by thrusting his Aristotle
down the beast’s throat. The boar, having no taste
for such logic, was choked by it, and his head, borne
home in triumph, was served up, no doubt, at table m
the student’s hall with a sprig of rosemary m its mouth.
The custom of serving a boar’s head on Christmas Day
at Queen’s College, whilst the tabarder sang .

t< The Boar’s Head in hand bear I

Bedecked with bays and rosemary.
And I pray you masters merry be—
Quotquot estis in convivio.

Chorus—Caput apri defer a

Reddens laudes Domino ” etc.j

is said to have originated in that incident. _ .

S. Aldate’s Road, after leaving the river, skirted
the enclosure of S. Frideswide, and gradually ascended
the sloping gravel bank in a northerly direction. Mere
it was met by another road which, coming from the
east, connected Oxford with the Wallingford district.
The crossing of these roads came to be known as the
Four Ways, Quadrifurcus, corrupted into Carlax.
And Carfax was the second of the chief elements m the
formation of Oxford. For at this point, as if to mark
its importance in the history of the town, was erected b.
Martin’s Church, which has always been the city church,
and in the churchyard of which Town Councils (F°rt-
mannimotes) perhaps were held. It is somewhat doubt¬
fully said to have been founded under a Charter of Cnut
(1034.I by the wealthy and vigorous Abbey of Abing¬
don, which, together with the foundation at Eynsham,
seems to have thrown the Monastery of S. Frideswide
verv much into the shade both as to energy and influence.
25
 Oxford and its Story

The tower, restored by Mr T. G. Jackson, is the

only remaining fragment of the old church. A modem
structure was wisely removed in 1896 to broaden the

thoroughfare. Two quaint figures, which in bygone

days struck the quarters on the old church, have been
restored to a conspicuous position on the tower.
Shakespeare,1 who on his way to Stratford used to
stop at the Crown Inn, a house then situated near the
Cross in the Cornmarket, is said to have stood sponsor
in the old church to Sir William Davenant in 1606.
John Davenant, father of the poet and landlord of the
Inn, was Mayor of Oxford. His wife was a very
beautiful woman. Scandal reported that Shakespeare
was more than godfather to Sir William. But if the
tower be all that remains of the original structure,
“ S. Martin’s at Carfax ” still commands the High
Street, and, serene amidst the din of cars, of marketers
and jostling undergraduates, recalls the days when
the town was yet in the infancy of its eventful life.
1 See Appendix Ill., p. 424,
26
The Mound, the Castle and Churches

The third element in the formation of the place was

the Mound. Medieval towns usually began by cluster¬
ing thickly round a stronghold, and there is reason to
believe that at the beginning of the tenth century
Oxford was provided with a fortress. In the year 91 ^
Oxford is mentioned for the first time in authentic his¬
tory. For there is an entry in the Saxon Chronicle to
the effect that
‘‘This year died JBthelred, ealdorman of the *ndf
King Edward took possession of London and Oxford
all the lands which owed obedience thereto.

The Danes were ravaging the country. Mercia had

been over-run by them the year before. The Chr0Mcle
for several years presents a record of the Danes attack¬
ing various places, and either Eadward or hts sister
fEthelflaed defending them and building fortresses for
their defence. They fortified, for instance, Tamworth
and Warwick and Runcorn, and at each of these places
the common feature of fortification is a conical mound
of earth. Take a motor-bus from Carfax to the railway
station, and stop at the County Courts and Gaol on
your way. The County Gaol you need not visit, nor
admire its absurd battlements, but within the sham
facade is the tower that remains from the Castle ol
Robert D’Oigli, and beside the tower is just such a
conical mound of earth—the Castle Mound.
Against raids and incursions Oxford was naturally
protected on three sides. For the Thames on the
west and south and the Cherwell on the east cut her
off from the attack of land forces, whilst even against
Danes coming up the Thames from Reading, mars
lands and minor streams within the belt of these outer
waters protected her. For in those early days, when
Nature had things almost entirely her own way, there
were many more branches of the river, many minor
 Oxford and its -Story

tributary streams flowing where now you see nothing

but houses and streets. The Trill Mill stream, for
instance, which left the main stream on the-west of
what is now Paradise Square, is now covered over for
the greater part of its course ; whilst the main stream,
after passing beneath the road some seventy yards out¬
side South Gate, gave off another stream running due
south, parallel with the road to Folly Bridge, but
itself evidently continued its own course across Merton
Fields by the side of what is now Broad Walk, and
finally found its way into the Cherwell. And besides
this stream, which ran under S. Prideswide’s enclosure,
there were, on the east, the minor streams which now
enclose the Magdalen Walks. But what Oxford needed
to strengthen her was some wall or fosse along the line
occupied afterwards by the northern wall of the city,
along the line, that is, of George Street, Broad Street
and Holywell, and also some place d’&rmesy some
mound, according to the fashion of the times, with
accompanying ditches. With these defences it seems
ptobahle that she was now provided. Thus fortified
Oxford becomes the chief town of Oxfordshire, the
district attached to it. And during the last terrible
struggle of England with the Danes its position on the
borders of the Mercian and West-Saxon realms seems
for the moment to have given it a political importance
under -ZEthelred and Cnut strikingly analogous to that
which it acquired in the great Rebellion.
After Sweyn’s death Oxford was chosen as the
meeting place of the great gemot of the kingdom. The
gemots, which were now and afterwards held at
Oxford, were probably held about the Mound, where
houses were erected for the royal residence. In one
of these -ZEthelweard, the King’s son, breathed his
last; one was the scene of another dastardly murder of
Danes, when Eadric (1015) ensnared Sigeferth and
28
The Mound\ the Castle and Churches

Morkere into his chamber, and there slew them, Amd

here it was, according to Henry of Huntingdon, that
King Edmund, who had been making so gallant a
struggle against the conquering Cnut, was murder ed y
Eadric’s son. Eadric, we know, was a traitor, and
well-skilled in murders at Oxford. He, when his son
had stabbed Edmund by his directions, came to Cnut and

«< saluted him, saying, ‘ Hail, thou art sole king. When he
had laid bare the deed done, the King answered, ‘I will
make thee on account of thy great deserts higher than all
the tali men of England.’ And he ordered him to be be-
headed and his head to be fixed on a pole on the highest tower
of London. Thus perished Edmund, a brave king.

And Cnut, the Dane, reigned, in his stead. Beneath

the shadow of the Mound, built to repel the Danish
incursions, the Danish King now held an assembly of
the people. At this gemot « Danes and Angles were
unanimous, at Oxford, for Eadgar's law. The old
laws of the country were, then, to be retained, and his
new subjects were reconciled to the Danish King.
But these subjects, the townsmen of those days, are
but dim and shadowy beings to us. It is only by later
records that we see them going on pilgrimage to the
shrines of Winchester, or chaffering in their market¬
place, or judging and law-making in their hustmg, their
merchant-guild regulating trade, their reeve gathering
his King's dues of tax or honey, or marshalling his
troop of burghers for the King's wars, their boats
floating down the Thames towards London and paying
the toll of a hundred herrings in Lent-tide to the
Abbot of Abingdon by the way. For the river was
the highway, and toll was levied on iL In Edward
the Confessor’s time, in return for the right of making
a passage through the mead belonging to Abingdon, it
was agreed that all barges that passed through carrying
herrings during Lent should give to the cook of that
 Oxford and its Story

monastery a hundred of them, and that when the

servant of each barge brought them into the kitchen
the cook should give him for his pains five of them, a
loaf of bread and a measure of ale. In the seventeenth
century the river had become so choked that no traffic
was possible above Maidenhead till an Act was passed
for the re-opening of it.
It was at Oxford that a great assembly of all the
Witan was held to elect Cnut’s successor Harold, and
at Oxford, so pernicious a place for kings, that Harold
died. At Oxford again when the Northumbrian
rebels, slaying and burning, had reached it (1065),
the gemot was held which, in renouncing Tostig, came
to the decision, the direct result of which was to leave
England open to the easy conquest of William of
Normandy when he landed in the following year.
Five years later we find Robert d’Oigli in peaceful
possession of Oxford, busy building one of those
Norman castles, by which William made good his hold
upon England, strongholds for his Norman friends,
prisons for rebellious Englishmen. The river he held
by such fortresses as this at Oxford, and the Castles
of Wallingford and Windsor.
Oxford had submitted without resistance to the
Conqueror. There is no evidence that she suffered
siege like Exeter or York, but many historians, Free¬
man among them, state that she was besieged. They
have been misled by the error of a transcriber. Savile
printed Urbem Oxoniam9 for Uxoniam, in his edition of
“ William of Malmesbury,” and the mischief was done.
A siege at this time has been supposed to explain a
remarkable fact which is recorded in the Domesday
Survey. <fi In the time of King Edward,” so runs the
record of Domesday Book :
“ Oxeneford paid for toll and gable and all other customs
yearly—to the king twenty pounds, and six measures of
30
7he Mound, the Castle and Churches

tlL!*'" or. 243 *■»« **«*/* ^ if^ru tZo tZ

47s W -«*- ^The king* has"1^^ tv^vall mansions..
Jy sU ^ ^ ^...”
The extraordinary proportion of ruined and unin¬
habited houses enumerated in this record, however, was
probably due not to any siege 1»rthe Normans and not
mainly to harsh treatment at them hands, but to the
ravaging and burning of that reb"lh?J. S-
umbrians who had come upon Oxford like a wmn
W ” in 1065. Robert D’Oigli htmself is recorded
to have had
,, forty-two inhabited houses as well within as without the
11 nf sixteen pay geld and gable, the P y
wall. Ot these, sixteen mansions

:sss rs4 s;r/(u;d^ i«m.

mill of ten shillings.”
•
These houses belonged wholly to Holywell Manor,
and the mill referred to is no doubt that knows
Holywell Mill, supplied with water .rom the Ch

WThus Domesday Book gives *^glimpse• °f a

pact little town within a vallum, haR *mile f °m ^
to west, and a quarter of a mile south to north. W
may^think of the gravel P-montory as covered with
houses and their gardens, and inhabited y

th°A ^market-place there would have been at or near

1 The manor took its ^T^man^r-house!
north side of the ^bureh . , used as a public-
itself (near the racquet courts) was recently ^ ^ where

‘rSiSns'of Oxford fought their mains, it w» ’f erwards

Sof beenTiscovered beneath the

new chapel.
 Oxford and its Story

Carfax, and fairs must have been held there, though

we have no mention of them till the reign of Henry I
The “wall” of the enceinte, which, according to
Domesday Book, the inhabitants of the mural mansions
were compelled to repair, was probably a vallum of
earth raced with stone, protected by a deep ditch in
front, and surmounted by wood-work to save the
soldiers from arrows.
D Oigli, we may presume, put the existing fortifica¬
tions or the town in order.
1 he fortifications, which were constructed in the
reign of Henry III., followed in the main the line of
the vallum repaired by D’Oigli. They consisted of
a ,curtain wall and outer ditch, protected by a parapet
and by round towers placed at regular intervals and
advanced so as to command besiegers who -might
approach to attack the wall. There were staircases
to the top of the towers. _ A good idea of them and
the general scheme of the fortifications may be obtained
by a visit to the fragment of the city wall which yet
remains within the precincts of New College. The
Slype, as it is called, forms a most picturesque' approach
to New College Gardens, and the old, bastioned wall
forms part of the boundary between the New College
property and Holywell Street. It is indeed owing ’ u>
this fact that the wall still remains there intact, for the
^rrxrV0f'°uncl a therc was granted to William
or Wykeham on condition of keeping the city wall in
repair and of allowing access to the mayor and burgesses
once in three years to see that this was done, and to
defend the wall in time of war. From New College
the city wall ran down to the High Street, i

o * T,he tm111 ‘S Clearlf tr“eaI,le betwccn 57 and 58 High

Street. I he passage by No. 57 is a piece of the old Royal
Way under the walls. I his way can be traced in King’s
Street, (now Merton Street) fr<yn its western edge to the
32
The Mound\ the Castle and Churches

The East Gate Hotel, facing the new schools,

marks the site of the old entrance to the city here¬
abouts. It is a recent construction in excellent taste
by Mr E. P. Warren. From this point the wall ran
on to Merton, and thence to Christ Church. The
south wall of the Cathedral chapter house is on the
line of the old city wall. It is said that some of the
old wall was taken down for the erection of the

College Hall. Along the north side of Brewer Street

(Lambard’s Lane, Slaying Lane, or King's Street)
ate here and there stones of the city wall, if not
remnants of the walling. At the extreme end of
gardens of the small houses facing the New Examination
Schools. It occurs again in Ship Street, from Jesus College
stables to the rear of the houses facing them, and again
between the Divinity School and the west front of the
Theatre. (See Hurst, “Topography.”)
C 33
 Oxford and its Story

Brewer Street the arch of Slaying Lane Well is just

visible, once described as a under the wall.5*
The south gate spanned S. Al date’s, close to the
south-west corner of Christ Church ; Little Gate was
at the end of Brewer Street, and the west gate was in
Castle Street, beyond the old Church of S. Petcr-le-
Bailly. From the south gate faint traces in u The
Friars” indicate its course, and the indications are
clear enough by New Inn Hall Street, Ship Inn
Yard, and Bullock’s Alley. Cornmarket Street was
crossed by S. Michael’s Church, where stood the
north gate. The gate house of the north gate was
used as the town prison. It rejoiced in the name of
Bocardo, jestingly so called from a figure in logic;
for a man once committed to that form of syllogism
could not expect to extricate himself save by special
processes.
Old bastions and the line of the ditch are found
behind the houses opposite Balhol College. The site
of Balliol College was then an open space, and Broad
Street was Canditch. This name was derived by
Wood from Candida Fossa, a ditch with a clear stream
running along it. Wood’s etymology is not convinc¬
ing. Mr Hurst has suggested a more likely derivation
in Camp Ditch. As a street name it readied from
the angle of Balliol to Smith Gate. An indication
of the old fosse, filled up, is to be found in the broad
gravel walk north of the wall near New College.
From Bocardo the wall ran towards the Sheklonian
Theatre. The outer line of the passage between
Exeter Chapel and the house to the north of it was
the line of the south face of the old city wall, A
bastion was laid bare in 1852 in the north quad of
Exeter. The wall passed in a diagonal line across
the quadrangle south of the Clarendon Building,
turned northwards in Cats’ Street, and ran up to the
34
The Mound, the Castle and Churches

octagonal Chapel of Our Lady by Smith Gate. The

remains of this little chapel, with a beautiful little
“Annunciation” in a panel over the south entrance,
have recently been
revealed to the pas¬
ser-by by the new
buildings ofHertford
College, not lovely,
between the very
mixed style of which
and the feeble mass of
the Indian Institute
it seems strangely out
of place.
From Smith Gate
the wall returned to
New College, and
so completed the
circuit of the town.
A reference to the
map will elucidate
this bare narration of
mine.
But to return to
Robert D’Oigli, the
Conqueror’s Castel¬
lan. From what
little we know of Chapel of o!« Lady.
him, he would ap¬
pear to have been a typical Norman baron, ruth¬
less, yet superstitious, strong to conquer and strong
to hold. Very much the rough, marauding soldier,
but gifted with an instinct for government and order,
he came over to the conquest of England in the train
of William the Bastard and in the company of Roger
DTvry, his sworn brother, to whom, as the chronicler
35
 Oxford and its Story

tells us, lie was “ iconfederyd and ibownde by faith

and sacrament/’ Oxfordshire was committed to his
charge by the Conqueror, to reduce to final subjection
and order. Fie seems to have ruled it in rude soldierly
fashion, enforcing order, tripling the taxation of the
town and pillaging without scruple the religious houses
of the neighbourhood. For it was only by such ruth¬
less exaction that the work which William had set him
to do could be done. He had indeed been amply
provided for, so far as he himself was concerned, by
the Conqueror, chiefly through a marriage with a
daughter of Wiggod of Wallingford, who had been
cupbearer to Edward the Confessor; but money was
needed for the great fortress which was now to be
built to hold the town, after the fashion of the
Normans, and by holding the town to secure, as we
have said, the river.
“ In the year 1071,” it is recorded in the Chronicle
of Osney Abbey, “was built the Castle of Oxford by
Robert D’Gigli.” And by the Castle we must
understand not the mound which was already there,
nor such a castle as was afterwards built in the twelfth
and thirteenth centuries, but at least the great tower of
stone which still exists and was intended to guard the
western approach to the Castle. S. George’s tower,
for so it was called because it was joined to the chapel
of S. George’s College within the precincts, was upon
the line of the enceinte. The walls are eight feet
four inches thick at the bottom, though not more than
four feet at the top. The doorway, which is some
twelve feet from the ground, was on the level of the
vallum or wall of fortification, and gave access to the
first floor. There are traces of six doorways above
the lead roof, which gave access to the “ hourdes.”
These were wooden hoardings or galleries that could
be put up outside. They had holes for the crossbows,
36
The Mound, the Castle and Churches

and holes for the pouring down of stones, boiling pitch,

or oil on to the heads of threatening sappers. They
were probably stored in the top room of the tower,
which is windowless.
The construction of the staircase of the tower is very
peculiar. Ascend it and you will obtain a magnificent
view of Oxford, of TfRey1 and Sand ford Lock, Shot-
over and the Chiltern Hills, Hincksey, Portmeadow,
Godstow, Woodstock, and Wytham Woods.
On the mound close at hand there was, after
D’Oigli’s day, a ten-sided keep built in the style of
Henry III. To reach the mound you go within the
gaol, and pass by a pathetic little row of murderers
graves, sanded heaps, distinguished by initials. Under
the mound is a very deep well, covered over by a
groined chamber of Transitional design.
Five towers were added later to the Castle, as
Agas’ map (1568) shows us. After the Civil War,
Colonel Draper, Governor of Oxford, “ sleighted,’’
as Wood expresses it, the work about the city, but
greatly strengthened the Castle. But in the following
year (1651), when the Scots invaded England, he,
for some reason, u sleigh ted 99 the Castle works too.
The five towers, shown in Agas’ map, and other
fortifications then disappeared. S. George’s tower
alone survives. #
Stern and grim that one remaining fragment of the
old Castle stands up against the sky, a landmark that
recalls the good government of the Norman kings.
But the most romantic episode connected with it
occurred amidst the horrors of the time when the
weakness and misrule of Stephen, and the endeavours
of Matilda to supplant him, had plunged the country
into that chaos of pillage and bloodshed from which
the Norman rule had hitherto preserved it. After
1 The picturesque old mill was burnt down in 19x0. The
lock is now (1926) being tastefully rebuilt and enlarged. The
Norman work in the Church of S. Mary is of unsurpassed
richness.

37
 Oxford and its Story

the death of his son, Henry I. had forced the barons

to swear to elect his daughter Matilda as his successor.
But they elected Stephen of Blois, grandson of the
Conqueror, whose chief claim to the Crown, from
their point of view, lay in his weak character. In a
Parliament at Oxford (1135) granted a charter
with large liberties to the Church, but his weakness
and prodigality soon gave the barons opportunities of
revolt. Released from the stern control of Henry
they began to fortify their castles; in self-defence the
great ministers of the late King followed their ex¬
ample. Stephen seized the Bishops of Salisbury and
Lincoln at Oxford, and forced them to surrender
their strongholds. The King’s misplaced violence
broke up the whole system of government, turned the
clergy against him, and opened the way for the revolt
of the adherents of Matilda. The West was for her ;
London and the East supported Stephen. Victory
at Lincoln placed Stephen a captive in the hands of
Matilda, and the land received her as its u Lady.”
But her contemptuous refusal to allow the claims of
the Londoners to enjoy their old privileges, and iier
determination to hold Stephen a prisoner, strengthened
the hand of her opponents. They were roused to
renew "their efforts. Matilda was forced to flee to
Oxford, and there she was besieged by Stephen, who
had obtained his release.
Stephen marched on Oxford, crossed the river at
the head of his men, routed the Queen’s supporters,
and set fire to the city. Matilda shut herself up in
the Castle and prepared to resist the attacks of the
King. But Stephen prosecuted the siege with great
vigour; every approach to the Castle was carefully
guarded, and after three months the garrison was
reduced to the greatest straits. Provisions were ex¬
hausted ; the long-looked-for succour never came ;
38
The Mound, the Castle and Churches

without, Stephen pushed the siege harder than ever.

It seemed certain that Matilda must fall into his
hands. Her capture would be the signal for the
collapse of the rebellion. But just as the end seemed
inevitable, Matilda managed to escape in marvellous
wise. There had been a heavy fall of snow ; so far
as the eye could see from the Castle towers the earth
was hidden beneath a thick white pall. _ The river
was frozen fast. The difficulty of distinguishing a
white object on this white background, and the
opportunity of crossing the frozen river by other means
than that of the guarded bridge, suggested a last taint
chance of escape. Matilda’s courage rose to the
occasion. She draped herself in white, and with but
one companion stole out of the beleaguered Castle at
dead of night, and made her way, unseen, unheard,
through the friendly snow. Dry-footed she stole
across the river, and gradually the noise of the camp
faded away into the distance behind her. For many
weary miles she stumbled on through the heavy
drifts of snow, until at last she arrived in safety at
Wallingford. „ , , , f ,
The bird had flown, and the Castle shortly afterwards
surrendered to the baffled King (Gesta Slephani).
During this siege the people were deprived of the
use of the Church of S. George, and to supply their
spiritual needs a new church sprang into existence, it
was dedicated to S. Nicholas, and afterwards _ to
S. Thomas 'a Becket. Of the original church, just
opposite the L. & N.W. Railway Station, part of the
chancel remains. The tower is fifteenth century.
The Castle mill is mentioned m the Domesday
Survey. The present mill no doubt occupies the
same site ; its foundations may preserve some of the
same masonry as that which is thus recorded to have
existed hereabouts before the Conquest.
41
 Oxford and its Story

You will notice that the Castle occupies almost the

lowest position in the town, and remembering all the
other Norman castles you have seen, Windsor or
Durham, Lincoln or William the Bastard’s own
birthplace at Falaise, the Oxford site may well give
you pause, till you remember that the position of the
old tenth-century fort had been chosen as the one
which best commanded the streams against the Danes,
whose incursions were mainly made by means of the
rivers. If Carfax had been clear, D’Oigli would
have built his castle at Carfax j but it was covered
with houses and S. Martin’s; and, shrinking from the
expense that would have been involved, and the outcry
that would have been raised, if he had cleared
the high central point of the town, he was content to
modify and strengthen the old fort. But as the
descent of Queen Street from Carfax threatened the
Castle, if the town were taken, there was no regular
communication made between the Castle and the town.
A wooden drawbridge across the deep ditches that
defended the Castle led to the town, somewhere near
Castle Street. This would be destroyed in time of
danger. No other entrance to the town was allowed
on this side. u All persons coming across the meadows
from the West and all the goods disembarked at the
Hythe from the barges and boats would have to be
taken in at the North Gate of the town, the road
passing along the North bank of the City ditch and
following, probably, exactly the same course as that
followed by George Street to-day” (Parker, u Early
Oxford ”). And round about the Castle itself an open
space was preserved by the policy of the Castellan, and
known as the Bailly (ballium, outer court). The
Church of S. Ptter le Bailly recalls the fact.
Study the history of most cathedrals and you will
discover that, like Chartres or Durham, <c half house
42
 ,
The Mound the Castle and Churches

of God, half castle ’gainst the Scot,” they have

served and were intended to serve at some period of
their career as fortresses as well as churches.
When Bishop Remigius removed, the see from
Dorchester to Lincoln, as he did at this time (1070),
Henry of Huntingdon writes: “He built a church
to the Virgin of Virgins, strong in a strong position,
fair in a fair spot, which was agreeable to those who
serve God and also, as was needful at the time,
impregnable to an enemy.” The tower of b.
Michael’s at North Gate is a good example of this
mingling of the sacred with the profane, and the archi¬
tectural feature of it is that it combines the qualities of
a campanile with those of the tower of the Castle. U
was a detached tower, and not part and parce. o e
church which stood at the North Gate, as it is now.
In the fifteenth century the city wall was extended
northwards so as to include the church.
The tower is placed just where we should expect to
find that the need of fortification was felt-
east, Oxford was now protected by the Thames and
the Cherwell as well as by her “vallum, and on the
west was the Castle. But the North Gate need
protection, and D’Oigli built the tower of S- Michael
to give it, spiritual and tempora both. At a later
date there was erected a chapel,1 also dedicated to
S. Michael, near the South Gate, and with reference
to this church and chapel and the Churches of S.
Peter in the East and in the West, there is a medisval
couplet which runs as follows.
“ Invigilat portx australi boreteque Michael, ^
Exortum solem Petrus regit atque cadentem.
At North Gate and at South Gate too S. Michael guards

While o’er'the East and o'er the West S. Peter holds his
sway. ___—-—
10 make room l°r Wolsey's ColleSe-
43
 Oxford and its Story

The military character of 8. Michael’s tower is

marked by that roundheaded doorway,, which you
may perceive some thirty feet from the ground on the
north side. Just as the blocked-up archways at the
top of the Castle tower once gave access to the
wooden galleries which projected from the wall, so
this doorway opened on a lower gallery which
guarded the approach to the adjoining gateway. On
the south side of the tower you will find traces of
another doorway, the base of which was about twelve
feet from the level of the ground. It is reasonable to
suppose that the tower projected from the' north side
of the rampart, and that this doorway was the means
of communication between them. The other door¬
way, on the west side, level with the street, gave
access from the road to the basement storey of the
tower.
Architecturally the tower may be said to be a
connecting link between the romanesque and Norman
styles. The system of rubble, with long-and-short
work at the angles, has not yet given place to that of
surface ashlar masonry throughout, and tlup eight
pilaster windows, it should be observed, of rude
stonework carved with the axe, present the plain,
pierced arches, with mid-wall shafts, which preceded
the splayed Norman window and arches with orders
duly recessed. The church itself adjoining the tower
is of various periods, chiefly fourteenth century. It
was, together with S. Mildred’s, united (in 1429) to
All Saints’ Church, which then was made a collegiate
parish church by the foundation of Lincoln College
adjoining.
Not only was Robert D’Oigli a builder of walls
and towers, but, in the end, of churches also. The
Chronicle of Abingdon Abbey records the story of his
conversion :—
44
‘Ihc Mound, the Castle and Churches

“In his creed for gain, he did everywhere harass the

churches, aifd especially the Abbey of Abingdon
other evil deeds he appropriated for the use of the Castle
aarrison a meadow that lay outside the walls of Oxford and
belonged to the Abbey. Touched to the quick, the brethren
assembled before their Altar and cried H“J*"
vengeance. Meantime, whilst day and night they were
thuf calling upon the Blessed Mary, Robert fell into a
grievous sickness in which he con“n“ef ,man^ ^„ith”n
penitent, until one night he dreamed that he stood within
the palace of a certain great King. And before a glorious
lady who was seated upon a throne there knelt two of the
monks whose names he knew and they^ said Lady this ^
who seizes the lands of your church. Alter wmcn
words were uttered she turned herself with Sre“
towards Robert and commanded him to be thrust out oi
doors and to be led to the meadow. And two youths made
him sit down there, and a number of ruffianly lads piled
burning hay round him and made sport of him. Some
to sed hayblnds in his face and others singed his beard and
the like His wife, seeing that he was sleeping heavily,
woke him up, and on his narrating to her his dream she
Tp-ed h m to go to Abingdon and restore the meadow. To
Xgdon therefore he caused his men to row him, and
there before the altar he made satisfaction.

There are two points to be noted in this story.

First, that the meadow in question was doubtless tha
which bears the name of King’s Mead to.this day;
second, that the river was a much used highway m
those and in much later times, ere money, Macadam,
Stephenson, and railway directors had substituted
roads and rails and made the water-way slow and no
safer. To return to our Chronicler:

&b(H^ And JidyinS

45
 Oxford and its Story

in the month of September was honourably buried within

the Presbytery at Abingdon on the north side, and his wife
lies in peace buried on his left,”

Together with his sworn friend, Roger DTvry,

D’Oigli founded the u Church of S, George in the
Castle of Oxenford.” This church stood adjacent
to the Castle tower, but it was removed in 1805 to
make room for the prison buildings.1
Probably, also, D’Oigli founded a church, dedicated
to S. Mary Magdalen, situated just without the North
Gate, and intended to supply the spiritual wants of
travellers and dwellers without the walls. The church
was on the site of the present Church of S. Mary
Magdalen ;2 but no trace of the original work has
been left by the early Victorian restorers. It passed
with the Church of S. George to Osney Abbey, and
then with its patron to the successors of the canons of
S. Frideswide’s, the prebends or canons of Christ
Church.
D’Oigli probably built also the Church of S.
Michael at the North Gate and S. Peter’s within
the East Gate; and as for his restorations, they
may have included the parish church, 8. Martin’s,
and also S. Mary’s and S. Ebbe’s, which latter may

1 The crypt, which had been beneath the apse of the

chapel, was afterwards replaced approximately in its posi¬
tion, north-east of the tower. The capitals of the four
dwarf pillars which support the groining are interesting,
and should be compared and contrasted with those in 8.
Peter’s in the East.
2 The beautiful south aisle, recently restored, is the work
of the White Friars, and there are two fine Flamboyant
west windows.
The charming statuette of the Magdalen is said to have
come from Osney, or perhaps from Rewley, and the tower
(V. 1530) to have been built with materials brought from
Rewley Abbey.
The North aisle (1841) commemorates the Oxford Martyrs.
46
 ,
The Mound the Castle and Churches

possibly have been built in the time of Edward the

C°How°very literally S. Peter’s guarded the east may

be gathered by inspecting the two turrets at the east
end of the church. There were small opening, in
these whence a watch could be kept over the streams
and the approach to East Gate.
"Whether the crypt of this church, as we now hav
it, dates entirely from D’Oigli’s time is a moot point.
It may be that it does, but the actual masonry, it wil
be noticed, the ashlar work, capitals and arches,.are
superior to that of the Castle and S. Michael s. Th
plL of the original crypt of S. George’s in the Castle
shows that it had, in accordance with the geneial r
of eleventh-century work in this country, an apsidal
termination. The crypt of S. Peter s, as built in
D’Oigli’s day, was, it is suggested, no exception,
had an apsidal termination which did not extend
far towards the east as the present construction. But,
as happened again and again in the history ^ n'
numerable churches and cathedrals at home and-abroad,
of Chartres, Rochester, Canterbury, for
crypt was presently extended eastwards. * he exte
sion in the present case would enable the small apse
to be changed into a larger choir with a rectangua
east end. The result is, that looking eastwards, and
noticinc that there is no apparent break between the
wall of the crypt and the wall of the chancel above
which evidently belongs to the middle of the twelfth
century, you would be inclined to attribute the whole
crypt I^that date, if you did not notice the small
doorways on either side and at the western end.
Looking westward, you see.^.0[kTh,ch.
back to the days when S. Michael s and the Castle
tower were being built. For the three western arches
two of them doorways now blocked up and the central
A 7
 Oxford and its Story

one open, indicate a type of crypt which is generally

held not to have been used later than the beginning
of the twelfth century. The essential features of this
type were that-the vault of the crypt was raised some
feet above the level of the floor of the nave, and that
both from the north and south side of the nave steps
Jed down into the crypt. And in some cases there
were central steps as well, or at least some opening
from the nave. Here then, as at Repton, you have
indications of this type, for behind each of the blocked-
up doorways is a passage leading to some steps or clear
traces of steps, and the central archway may have
provided originally an opening to the nave, through
which a shrine may have been visible, or else a
communication by central steps.
The entrance to this remarkable crypt, with its
vaulting of semi-circular arches of hewn stone, is from
the outside. The crypt has capitals of a peculiar
design to several of the shafts, and four of the bases
ornamented with spurs formed by the heads of lizard¬
shaped animals.1 The chancel and the south doorway
afford remarkably rich examples of the late Norman
style. The fifteenth-century porch, with a room over
it, somewhat hides, but has doubtless protected the
latter. The early decorated tower, the exterior
arcading of the chancel, the unique groining of the
sanctuary (“S. Peter’s Chain ”), and the two beauti¬
ful decorated windows on the north, and the early
English arcade of the nave, are all worthy of remark
in this interesting church.2
Of the old Church of S. Ebbe (S. JEbba was the
sister of S. Oswald), which was rebuilt in 1814 and
again partially in 1869, nothing now remains save the
stonework of a very rich late Norman doorway, which
1 A dragon is carved on one of the capitals. The dragon,
like the fish, was commonly used as a sign of Christianity.
3 The keys of the Church are kept at 40 High Street.
Fee, 6d.
48
 ,
Ihe. Mound the Castle and Churches

was taken down and built into the south wall of the
modern building.
The other church which is mentioned at the period
is S. Aldate’s. Now, nothing is known of the Saint to
whom this church is supposed to have been dedicated,
and from whom, as we have seen, the street which
runs from Carfax to Folly Bridge borrows its name.
In no ancient martyrology or calendar does S. Aldate
appear. It is quite possible that there was such a Saint,
and if there was, he would not be the only one who
survives in our memory solely by virtue of the churches
dedicated to him. But the corruption—S. Told’s—
S. Old’s is found in thirteenth-century chartularies and
in popular parlance to-day. This corruption is curious,
and may be significant. S. A1 date’s Church at
Oxford lies just within the old South Gate of the
town ; the only other church of the same name lies
just within the old North Gate of Gloucester. In an
old map of Gloucester this latter church is called S.
Aldgate’s ; in an old map of Oxford the same spelling
occurs. At Oxford the street now known as S.
Aid ate’s was once called South Gate Street. It seems
likely, therefore, that Aldate represents a corruption
from Old Gate = Aldgate = Aldate, and- that the name,
when it had become so far corrupted, was supposed, to
be that of a Saint. But the true meaning, as so often
happens, lived on, when men spoke with an unconscious
approach to correctness of S. Old’s.
The church itself, as it now stands, is chiefly the
product of a restoration in 1863,1 but the south aisle
was built in 1335 by Sir John Docklington, a fish¬
monger who was several times mayor. Over it there
used to be an upper story which served as a library for
the use of students in Civil Law who frequented the
1 The original crypt is preserved and a Norman arcade,
east of the north aisle.
D 49
 Oxford and its Story

neighbouring hall, Broadgates Hall, which ^became

Pembroke College in 1624, when Thomas Tesdale
endowed it and named it after Lord Pembroke the
Chancellor, and King James assumed the honours of
founder. In the library the refectory of the old
hall survives. The rest of the front quadrangle was
added in the seventeenth century and Gothicised in the
nineteenth. It was in a room over the gateway that
Dr Johnson lived, when Pembroke was “ a nest of
singing birds.” The eighteenth - century chapel,
decorated (1884) by Mr Kempe, and the new
hall should tempt the visitor into the back quad¬
rangle.
In the days of Robert D’Oigli, then, Oxford was
provided with no less than eight churches, dedicated
to S. Frideswide, S. Martin, S. George, S. Mary
Magdalen, S. Mary the Virgin, S. Peter, S. Michael,
and S. Ebbe. By the end of the reign of Henry I.
this number had been more than doubled. And see¬
ing that much church building is and always was a sign
of prosperity and security, the fact that eight new
churches sprang up within so short a time after the
Norman Conquest may be taken to prove that under her
sheriffs and portreeves Oxford enjoyed, good govern¬
ment and made rapid progress in population and wealth.
Of these eight or ten new churches no tmee icnitiins
of S. Mildred’s, save the pathway across the old
churchyard which survives in the modern Brasenose
Lane ; and the church dedicated to S. Eadward the
martyr, which lay between S. Frideswide’s and the
High, has likewise disappeared; the exact sites of the
Church of S. Budoc, the Chapel of the Holy Trinity and
of S. Michael at the South Gate, cannot be identified ;
the Chapel of S. Clement, on the other side of Mag¬
dalen Bridge, gave way to a fourteenth-century church,
and was wholly cleared away at the beginning of the
5°
 ,
The Mound the Castle and Churches

nineteenth century ; All Saints’ and S. Peter’s, in the

bailey of the Castle, were entirely rebuilt m the eigh¬
teenth century, and the latter re-erected on another
site in the nineteenth. The old chancel arch in t e
Church of S. Cross (Holywell) dates from the end of
the eleventh century, and this church was probably
founded about this time by Robert D Oigli or his
successors for the benefit of the growing population on
Holywell Manor. ,
The present Church of S. Clement, on the Marston
Road, near the new Magdalen and Trinity Cricket
Grounds, is an early Victorian 'Citation ot Norman
style, and well described as the “ Boiled,, ,,
The Castle tower, the tower of S Michael s, the
crypt of S. Peter’s in the East, Holywell and the
Castle mills, the chancel of S. Cross, these are all
landmarks that recall the days when D Oigli governed
Oxford, and the servants of William surveyed England
and registered for him his new estate. But there is
one other item in the Domesday record which deserves
to be noticed:
11 All burgesses of Oxford hold in common a pasture

without the wall which brings in 6s. 8d.

How many Oxford men realise, when they make

their way to Port Meadow to sail their centre-boards
on the upper river, that this ancient “ Port (ot
“Town ”) Meadow is still set apart for its ancient
purpose, that the rights of the freemen of Oxford to
have free pasture therein have been safeguarded for
eight hundred years by the portreeve or
(sheriff), annually appointed to fulfil this duty by the
Portmannimot (or Town Council) .
Robert D’Oigli died childless. He was succeeded
by his nephew, the second Robert who had wedded
Edith, a concubine of Henry I. bhe, dwelling m the
 Oxford and its Story

Castle, was wont to walk in the direction of what is now

the Great Western Railway Station and the cemetery,
being attracted thither by the a chinking rivulets and
shady groves.”
And it is said that there one evening, “ she saw a great
company of pyes gathered together on a tree, making a
hideous noise with their chattering, and seeming, as ’twere,
to direct their chatterings to her.” The experience was
repeated, and the Lady sent for her confessor, one Radulphus,
a canon of S Frideswide’s, and asked him what the reason
of their chattering might be. Radulphus, i( the wiliest pye
of all,” Wood calls him, explained that “ these were no
pyes, but so many poor souls in purgatory that do beg and
make all this complaint for succour and relief; and they
do direct their clamours to you, hoping that by your
charity you would bestow something both worthy of their
relief, as also for the welfare of yours and your posterity’s
souls, as your husband’s uncle did in founding the College
and Church of S. George.” These words being finisht, she
replied, “And is it so indeed? now de pardieux, if olo
Robin my husband will concede to my request, 1 shall do
my best endeavour to be a means to bring these wretched
souls to rest.” And her husband, as the result of her impor¬
tunities, cc founded the monastery of Osney, near or upon the
place where these pyes chattered (1129), dedicating it to S,
Mary, allotting it to be a receptacle of Canon Regulars of S.
Augustine, and made Radulphus the first Prior thereof.”

Osney was rebuilt in 1247. The Legate proclaimed

forty days7 indulgence to any one who should contribute
towards the building of it. The result was one of the
most magnificent abbeys in the country. “ The fabric
of the church,77 says Wood, 44 was more than ordinary
excelling.77 Its two stately towers and exquisite
windows moved the envy and admiration of English¬
men and foreigners alike. When, in 1542, Oxford
ceased to belong to the diocese of Lincoln, and the new
see was created, Robert King, the last Abbot of Osney,
was made first Bishop of Osney. But it was only for
a few years that the bishop’s stool was set up in the
Church of S. Mary. In 1546 Henry the Eighth
52 . .
The Mounds the Castle and Churches

moved the see to S. Frideswide’s, and converted the

priory, which Wolsey had made a college, into both
college and cathedral. And the Abbey of Osney was
devoted to destruction. 66 Sir,” said Dr Johnson when
he saw the ruins of that great foundation, stirred by the
memory of its splendid cloister and spacious quadrangle
as large as Tom Quad, its magnificent, church, its
schools and libraries, the oriel windows and high-
pitched roofs of its water-side buildings, and the abbot s
lodgings, spacious and fair, u Sir! to look upon them
fills me with indignation ! ” Agas’ map (1568) re¬
presents the abbey as still standing, but roofless; the
fortifications in 1644 accounted for the greater part of
what then remained. The mean surroundings of the
railway station mark the site of the first Cathedral of
Oxford. The Cemetery Chapel is on the site of the
old nave. A few tiles and fragments of masonry, the
foundations of the gateway, and a piece of a building
attached to the mill, are the only remains that will re¬
ward you for an unpleasant afternoon’s exploration in
this direction. Better, instead of trying so to make
these dead stones live, to go to the Cathedral and there
look at the window in the south choir aisle, which was
buried during the Civil War and, thus preserved from
the destructive Puritans, put up again at the Restoration.
This window, painted by the Dutchman, Abraham, or
perhaps his brother Bernard, Van Ling (1634)* repre¬
sents Bishop King in cope and mitre, and among the trees
in the background is a picture of Osney Abbey already
in ruins. The bishop’s tomb, it should be added, of
which a missing fragment has recently been discovered,
lies in the bay between the south choir aisle and S.
Lucy’s Chapel. But there is one other survival of
Osney Abbey of which you cannot long remain un¬
aware. You will not have been many hours in the
“ sweet city of the dreaming spires” before you hear
53
 Oxford and its Story

the u bonny Christ Church bells” of Dean Aldrich’s1

well-known catch ring out, or the cracked B Hat of
Great Tom, booming his hundred and one strokes,
tolling the hundred students of the scholastic establish¬
ment and the one u outcomer ” of the Thurston founda¬
tion, and signalling at the same time to all u scholars
to repair to their respective colleges and halls ” and to
all the Colleges to close their gates (9.5 p.m.).
And these bells, Hautclerc, Douce, Clement, Austin,
Marie, Gabriel et John, as they are named in the hex¬
ameter, are the famous Osney bells, which were held
to be the finest in England in the days when bell¬
founding was a serious art and a solemn rite, when
bells were baptised and anointed, exorcised and blessed
by the bishop, so that they might have power to drive
the devil out of the air, to calm tempests, to extinguish
fire, and to recreate even the dead. They and some
others are hung within the Bell-Tower (above the
hall-staircase of Christ Church), which Mr Bodley has
built about the wooden structure which contains them,

1 Aldrich was a man of remarkable and versatile talents.

The author of admirable handbooks on logic, heraldry, and
architecture, he was equally skilled in chemistry and theology.^
In music he'earned both popularity and the admiration of
musicians by his catches, services, and anthems 5 and as an
architect he has left his mark on Oxford, in Peekwater
Quadrangle (Th. Ch.) and All Saints Church. As a man
of sense he loved his pipe, and wrote an amusing eatch to
tobacco ; as a wit he gave live good reasons lor not abstaining
from wine:

<< A friend, good wine, because you’re dry .

Because you may be, by and bye
Or any other reason why.”

It was under Aldrich that the Battle of the Books arose,

the great literary controversy, which began with the im¬
mature work of a Christ Church student and ended with the
masterpieces of Swift and Bentley.

' 54
 ,
The Mound the Castle and Churches

and which he intended to surmount with a lofty and

intricate wooden superstructure.
But Tom is placed in his own tower, over the
entrance from S. A1 date’s into the great Quad to which
he has given his name.
The lower story of Tom Tower was built by
Wolsey (the Faire Gate it was called, and the
cardinal’s statue is over the gateway), but the octagonal
cupola which gives to it its characteristic appearance
was added by Sir Christopher Wren. Tom weighed
17,000 pounds, and bore the inscription:—
In Thornes lauds resono Bim Bom sine frauds
but he was re-cast in 1680 (7 ft. 1 in. in . diameter,
and weighing over 7 tons). The inscription
records:—
Mamus Thomas Clusius Oxoniensis renatus, Ap. 8,
1680.
Translated here, he has rung out, since the anni¬
versary of the Restoration on the 29th of May 1684,
nightly without intermission, save on that night some
years ago when the undergraduates of Christ Church
cut the^rope as a protest when they were not allowed
to attend the ball given at Blenheim in honour of the
coming of age of the Duke of Marlborough, and
curfew did not ring that night. ^ . .
There is one other monument in Oxford which is
connected by popular tradition with the last Abbot of
Osney, and thatis the exceedingly picturesque old house*
in S. A1 date’s. Richly and quaintly carved, this old
timber mansion is known as the Bishop’s Palace, and

1 It was probably built for him. Some of the original

Tudor work remains, but the greater part of the visible
portions are rough Jacobean imitation, of the year
1628.
55
 Oxford and its Story

is said to have been the residence of Bishop King, after

the see was transferred from Osney to Christ Church.

The town, we have seen, had been ruined, and

very many of the houses were u waste,” when the
Normans conquered England. But in the new era
The Mound, the Castle and Churches

of prosperity and security which their coming gave to

the land, in the sudden development of industry and
wealth which the rule of the conquerors fostered,
Oxford had her full share. The buildings of which
remnants or records remain bear witness to the new
order of things.
Such works as those which we have described
could not then or now be done without money. The
transformation of Oxford at this period, from a town
of wooden houses, in great part uninhabited, to a town
of stone houses, with a castle and many churches of
stone,, is an indication of wealth. And that wealth
was a product not only of the new regime of order and
security, but also of the new policy of the foreign
kings.
The erection of stately castles and yet statelier
Abbeys which followed the Conquest, says Mr Green,
the rebuilding of almost every cathedral and conventual
church, mark the advent of the Jewish capitalist.
From this time forward till 1289 the Jew was pro¬
tected in England and his commercial enterprise
fostered. He was introduced and protected as a
chattel of the King, and as such exempt from the
common law and common taxation of Englishmen.
In Oxford, as elsewhere, the Jews lived apart, using
their own language, their own religion and laws,
their own peculiar commerce and peculiar dress.
Here the Great and little Jewries extended along Fish
Street (S. Old’s) to the present Great Gate of Christ
Church, and embraced a square of little streets, behind
this line, which was isolated and exempt from the
common responsibilities and obligations of the town.
The church itself was powerless against the Synagogue,
which rose in haughty rivalry beside the cloister of
S. Frideswide. Little wonder if the Priory and
Jewry were soon at deadly feud. In 1185 we find
■ E"7
 Oxford and its Story

Prior Philip complaining of a certain Deus-cum-crescat

(Gedaliah) son of Mossey, who, presuming upon his
exemption from the jurisdiction of any but the King,
had dared to mock at the Procession of 8. F rides wide.
Standing at his door as the procession of the saint
passed by, the mocking Jew halted and then walked
firmly on his feet, showed his hands clenched as if
with palsy and then flung open his lingers. Then he
claimed gifts and oblations from the crowd who flocked
to 8, Prides wide’s, on the ground that such recoveries
of limb and strength were quite as real as any Frides-
wide had wrought. But no earthly power, ecclesiastic
or civil, ventured to meddle with Deus-cum-crescat.
The feud between Jewry and Priory lasted long.
It culminated in 1268 in a daring act of fanaticism,
which incidentally provides a curious proof of the
strong protection which the Jews enjoyed, and of the
boldness with which they showed their contempt for
the superstitions around them. As the customary
procession of scholars and citizens was returning on
Ascension Day from S. Frides wide’s, a Jew suddenly
burst from the group of his friends in front of the
synagogue, and snatching the crucifix from its bearer,
trod it underfoot. But even in presence of such an
outrage, the terror of the Crown shielded the Jewry
from any burst of popular indignation. The King
condemned the Jews of Oxford to make a heavy
silver crucifix for the University to carry in the pro¬
cessions, and to erect a cross of marble where the
crime was committed ; but even this punishment was
in part remitted, and a less offensive place was
allotted for the cross in an open plot by Merton
College.
But the time of the Jews had almost come. Their
wealth and growing insolence had fanned the flames of
popular prejudice against them. Protected by the
S».
‘The Mound, the Castle and Churches

kinds whose policy it was to allow none to plunder

them but their royal selves, they reaped a harvest
oreater than even the royal greed could reap. eir
position as chattels of the King, outside the power of
clergy or barons, and as citizens of little towns within
towns in whose life they took no part except to profit
by it, stirred the jealousy of the various classes.
Wild stories were circulated then, as on the Continent
still, of children carried off to be circumcised or
crucified. The sack of Jewry after Jewry was the
sign of popular hatred and envy during the Barons
war. Soon the persecution of the law fell upon these
unhappy people. Statute after statute hemmed them
in. They were forbidden to hold real property,
to’employ Christian servants, and to move
the streets without two tell-tale white tablets of wool
on their breasts. Their trade, already crippled by
the competition of bankers, was annihilated by the
royal order which bade them renounce usury, under
the pain of death. At last Edward, eager to obtain
funds for his struggle with Scotland, yielded to the
fanaticism of his subjects and bought the grant of
i During the restoration of the Cathedral in .l8j>6 ? r7"

contained lockers at each end. It has been n«t r™ Un7

XpS~w.Jt.as
of the poor. Grossetete in 1240
“ I"';
issued an fines
gulating S. Frideswid^s Chest charitable funds

had to be restrained by law from charging ««r 43 «<*• on

loans to scholars (1244)-
59
 Oxford mid its Story

fifteenth from the clergy and laity at the price of

driving the Jews from his realm. From the time of
Edward to that of Cromwell no Jew touched English
soil.
There is no reason to suppose with many historians
that the Jews of Oxford contributed through their
books, seized at this time, to the cultivation of physical
and medical science, or that it was through the books
of the Rabbis that Roger Bacon was enabled to
penetrate to the older world of research. The traces
which they have left in Oxford, save in the indirect
manner I have suggested, are not many. The rising
ground, now almost levelled, between the Castle and,
Broken Hayes, on the outer edge of the Castle ditch
on the north side, was long known as the Mont de
Juis, but being the place of execution, the name may
more likely be derived from justice than from Jews.
A more interesting reminiscence is provided by the
Physic Garden opposite Magdalen College.
Henry II. had granted the Jews the right of burial
outside of every city in which they dwelt. At Oxford
their burial place was on the site where S. John’s hospital
was afterwards built, and was then transferred to the
place where the Physic Garden now stands. This
garden, the first land publicly set apart for the scientific
study of plants, was founded by Henry, Earl of
Danby (1632), who gave the land for this purpose.
Mr John Evelyn visiting it a few years later was
shown the Sensitive Plant there for a great wonder.
There also grew, he tells us, canes, olive trees,
rhubarb, but no extraordinary curiosities, besides very
good fruit. Curious, however, the shapes of the
clipped trees were, if we may believe Tickell, who
writes enthusiastically :
“ How sweet the lantlskip ! where in living’ trees.
Here frown a vegetable Hercules ;
60
 ,
The Mound the Castle and Churches

There famed Achilles learns to live again

And looks yet angry in the mimic scene ;
Here artful birds, which blooming arbours shew,
Seem to fly higher whilst they upwards grow.”

The gateway was designed by Inigo Jones, and the

figures of Charles I. and II. were added later, the
expense being defrayed out of the fine levied upon
Anthony Wood for his libel upon Clarendon.
About the same time that Osney Abbey was
finished the palace which Henry Beauclerk had been
building at Beaumont, outside the north gate of the
city, was finished also. To satisfy his love of hunting
he had already (ii 14) constructed a palace and park
at Woodstock. Within the stone walls of the
enclosure there he nourished and maintained, says
John Rous, lions, leopards, strange spotted beasts,
porcupines, camels, and such like animals, sent to him
by divers outlandish lords.
The old palace at Beaumont lay to the north-east
of Worcester College. Its site, chosen by the King
« for the great pleasure of the seat and the sweetness
and delectableness of the air,” is_ indicated _ by
Beaumont Street, a modem street which has revived
the name of the palace on the hill,—Bellus mons. _
When not occupied with Ins books or his menageue,
the Scholar-King found time to grant charters to the
town, and he let to the city the collective dues or fee-
farm rent of the place.
Henry II. held important councils at Beaumont.
The one romance of his life is connected with
Woodstock -and Godstow.
One of the most charming of the many beautiful
excursions by road or river from Oxford takes you to
the little village of Godstow,
<‘ Through those wide fields of breezy_ grass m
Where black-winged swallows haunt the glittering Thames.
01
 Oxford and its Story

To sail here from Folly Bridge or the Upper

River, to fish here, to play bowls or skittles here, to
eat strawberries and cream here, has for centuries been
the delight of Oxford students.

So on thy banks, too, Isis, have I strayed

A tasselled student, witness you who shared
My morning walk, my ramble at high noon,
My evening voyage, an unskilful sail,
To Godstow bound, or some inferior port,
For strawberries and cream. What have we found
In life’s austerer hours delectable
As the long day so loitered ? ”

Just opposite the picturesque old TL rout Inn and the

bridge which spans the river here you may see an old
boundary wall, enclosing a paradise of ducks and geese,
at one corner of which is a ruined chapel with a three-
light perpendicular window. 1 hese are the only
remaining fragments of the once flourishing Nunnery,
which was the last home of Rosamund, Rosa Mundi,
the Rose of the World.
During his residence at Oxford, Henry granted the
growing city an important chatter, confirming the
liberties they had enjoyed under Henry L,
“ and specially their guild merchant . . . they are to have
all other customs and liberties and laws of their own, winch
they have in common with my citizens of London. And
that they serve me at my feast with those of my hutlery,
and do their traffic with them.”

Oxford, then, (1161) enjoyed customs and liberties

in common with London; her charter was copied
from that of the Londoners, and on any doubtful
matter she was bound to consult the parent town*
She was soon provided with aldermen, bailiffs, and
chamberlains, whose titles were borrowed from the
merchant guild, and with councilmen who were elected
from the citizens at large. The Mayor was formally
62
 ,
The Mound the Castle and Churches

admitted to his office by the Barons of the Exchequer

at Westminster, and on his return thence, he wm met
always by the citizens in their liveries at Innity
Chapel, without Eastgate, where he stayed to return
thanks to God for his safe return, and left an alms

UPThe merchant guild was originally distinct from the

municipal government, though finally the ui a
became the common hall of the city. In practice the
chief members of the merchant guild would usually b
also the chief members of the Court-leet. e
business of the merchant guild was to regulate trade.
Its relation to the craft guilds is analogous to that
which exists between the University and the
The Crafts, to which, as to the freedom of the city,
men obtained admission by birth, apprenticeship, or
purchase, were numerous, flourishing and highly
organised. Every trade from cordwamers to cooks
from tailors, weavers, and glovers to butchers and
bakers, was a brotherhood, with arms and a warden,
beadle, and steward of its own, and an annually elected
headmaster. The various Guilds had special chapels
in the different churches where they burntL,““dl«‘ “dg
celebrated mass, on particular day8- _ ^he glov«.
held mass on Trinity Monday m All Saints Church ,
the tailors in the same church, and they also founded a
chantrey in S, Martin’s. “ A token of this foundation
is a pair of tailor’s shears painted in the upper south
window of the south aisle” (Wood). The cooks
celebrated their chief holiday in Whitsun ™
they showed themselves in their bravery °n h°rsJaC^
The tailors had their shops m Wmcheles Row, and
they had a custom of revelling on the vigil of b. John
the Baptist.
«« Caressing themselves with all joviality in meats
drink.They lould in the midst of the night dance and take
 Oxford and its Story

a circuit throughout all the streets, accompanied by divers

musical instruments, and using some certain sonnets in
praise of their profession and patron.”

But such customs led to disturbances and were

finally prohibited. The barbers, a company which
existed till fifty years ago, maintained a light in Our
Lady’s Chapel at S. Frides wide’s. Some of the
regulations by which they bound themselves when they
were incorporated by order of the Chancellor in 1348
are typical. The barbers, it should be added, were
the mediaeval physicians too.
Their ordinances provided that no person of that
craft should work on a Sunday or shave any but such
as were to preach or do a religious act on Sundays.
No servant or man of the craft should reveal any
infirmity or secret disease he had to his customers or
patients. A master of the craft was to be chosen
every year, to whom every one of his craft should he
obedient during his year of office. Lvery apprentice
that was to set up shop after his time was expired
should first give the master and wardens with the rest
of the society a dinner and pay for one pound of wax,
and that being done, the said master and wardens with
three other seniors of the craft should bring him to the
chancellor upon their shoulders, before whom he was
to take his oath to keep all the ordinations and statutes
of the craft, and pay to Our Lady's box eightpence
and the like sum to the chancellor. The same pro¬
cedure must be observed by any foreigner that had not
been prenticed in Oxford but desired to set up a shop
to occupy as barber, surgeon, or waferer or maker of
singing bread. All such as were of the craft were to
receive at least sixpence a quarter of each customer
that desired to be shaved every week in his chamber
or house. If any member of the craft should take
upon him to teach any person not an apprentice, lie
64
 ,
*The Mound the Castle and Churches

should pay 6s. 8cL, whereof 3s. 4d. should go to the

craft, is. 8d. to the chancellor, and is. 8d. to the
proctors. Rules are also given for the observance of
the barbers’ annual holiday and the election of their
master.
Stimulated by the presence of the kings without its
walls and the growth of the university within, trade
flourished so greatly that it was soon necessary to
regulate it by minute provisions. In the reign of
Edward II. (1319) the mayor and bailiffs were
commanded to “ prevent confusion in the merchandis¬
ing of strangers, and those who were not free of any
guild from thrusting out those who were.” All
traders and sellers who came to Oxford ota market
days—Wednesdays and Saturdays—were to know
each one their place.
a The sellers of straw, with their horses and cattle that
bring it,” so ran the regulation, “ shall stand between East
Gate and All Saints’ Church, in the middle of the King’s
Highway. The sellers of wood in carts shall stand between
Shidyard (Oriel) Street and the tenement of John Maidstone
and the tenement on the east side of the Swan Inn (now
King Edward’s Street, the ugly row of smug, commonplace
houses which has been erected on the site of Swan Yard).
The sellers of bark shall stand between S. Thomas’ Hail
(Swan Inn) and S. Edward’s Lane (Alfred Street). The
sellers of hogs and pigs shall stand between the churches of
S. Mary and All Saints, the ale sellers between S. Edward’s
Lane and the Chequer Inn ; the sellers of earthen-pots and
coals by the said lane of S. Edward on the north side of the
High Street. The sellers of gloves and whitawyers (dressers
of white leather) shall stand between All Saints’ Church
and the house on the west side of the Mitre Inn; the
furriers, linen and woollen drapers by the two-faced pump
(which perhaps stood on the site of the later conduit at
Carfax. This conduit was erected in 1616 and water
brought to it from the hill springs above North Hincksey.
It was removed in 1787 and presented to Earl Harcourt,
who re-erected it at Nuneham Park some five miles from
Oxford, where it may still be seen, on a slope commanding
E 65
 Oxford and, its Story

an extensive view of the Thames Valley between Abingdon

and Oxford.)
“The bakers,” the regulation continued, “ shall stand
between Carfax and North Gate, and behind them the
foreign sellers of fish and those that are not free or of the
guild. The tanners shall stand between Somner’s Inn
and Carfax; the sellers of cheese, milk, eggs, beans, new
peas and butter from the corner of Carfax towards the
Bailly; the sellers of hay and grass at the Pillory; the
cornsellers between North Gate and Manger Hall (the Cross
Inn).”

Besides these market-stands the permanent trades

and resident guilds had distinct spheres allotted to
them. The cutlers, drapers, cooks and cordwaincrs
had their special districts; the goldsmiths had their
shops in All Saints’ parish, the Spicery and Vintnery1
lay to the south of S. Martin’s; Fish Street extended
to Folly Bridge, the Corn Market stretched away to
North Gate, the stalls of the butchers ranged in their

1 The Vintnery, the quarter of taverns and wine cellars,

which was at the north end of S. Aldate’s, flourished
mightily. The students, for ail their lust of knowledge,
were ever good samplers of what Rabelais calls the holy
water of the cellar. You might deduce that from the
magnificent cellars of the Mitre Inner Bulkley Hall (corner
of S. Edward’s Street) and above all from those of the old
Vintnery. For the houses north of the Town Hall have
some splendid cellars, which connect with another under
the street, and so with others under the first house on the
west side of S. Aldate’s, the famous old Swindlestock
(Siren or Mermaid Inn). 'These are good specimens of early
fifteenth century vaults. It is supposed that when these
cellars were dug, the earth was thrown out into the street,
and there remained in the usual mediaeval way. This, it
is maintained, accounts for the hill at Carfax, Certainly
the earliest roadway at Carfax is traceable at the unexpected
depth of eleven feet seven inches below the present high
road, which is some three and a half feet below what it
should be according to the average of one foot per hundred
years observed by most mediaeval towns as their rate of
deposit.
66
 ,
The Mound the Castle and Churches

Butchers’ Row along the road to the Castle (Queen’s

Street). As for the great guild of weavers, there
was a wool market in Holywell Green. Part of the
ground since included in Magdalen College Grove was
known as Parry’s Mead, and here twenty-three looms
were working at once, and barges came up to it on the
Cherwell.
Thus Oxford had attained to complete municipal
self-government. She stood now in the first rank of
municipalities. Her political importance is indicated
by the many great assemblies that were held there.
The great assembly under Cnut had closed the struggle
between Englishman and Dane; that under Stephen
ended the conquest of the Norman, whilst that under
Henry III. begins the regular progress of constitutional
liberty. In 1265, Simon de Montfort issued writs
from Woodstock summoning the famous parliament to
which towns sent members for the first time. Oxford
no doubt was among the number, but the sheriff’s
returns are lost and it is not till 1295 that the names
of two burgesses elected to represent her in the national
council are recorded. The University did not obtain
members until the first Parliament of James I. (1609),
although her advice had often been consulted by kings
and parliaments before.1 So far, then, we have
followed the growth of a town of increasing political
and commercial importance. We have now to trace
the growth within its borders of a new and rival body,
which was destined, after a century or more of faction
and disorder, to humble her municipal freedom to the
dust.
1 Wycliffe, we know, appeared before Parliament and
there is a writ of Edward I. requiring the Chancellor to
send <£ quattuor vel quinque de discretioribus et in jure
scripto magis expertis Universitatis51 to Parliament.

67
 CHAPTER III

The Origin of the University

Mythical Derivations—The Cambridge Boast—The Alfred
Myth—The Rise of Mediaeval Universities—The Rise
of Oxford—Students migrate thither from Paris—
Migration to Cambridge—The University triumphs oyer
the Town—University College and King Alfred—The
Story of S. Edmund—The Schoolmen.

THE chroniclers of every medieval town like to

1 begin from Jove—or Genesis. The Oxford
historians are no exception. Famous antiquaries of
ancient days carried back the date of the city to
fabulous years. Wood gives the year 1009 b.c. as the
authentic date, when Memphric, King of the Britons,
built it and called it Caer Memphric. But these
famous antiquaries, as we shall see, had an axe to grind.
Whatever the origin of Oxford may have been, a
few bronze weapons and some pottery, preserved in the
Museum, are the only remains of the British period
that have been discovered. Great as were the natural
advantages of the place, lying as it does on the banks
of the chief river of the country at a point where a
tributary opens up a district to the north, it would yet
seem that there was no British settlement of importance
at Oxford, for it was dangerous borderland between
the provinces into which Britain was divided, liable to
frequent hostile incursions, and therefore left uninhabited.
And this would seem to be the reason why, when the
road-making Romans were driving their great streets
68
I'he Origin of the University

through the neighbourhood, they left this seductive

ford severely alone.
The first chronicler to associate Oxford with the
name of King Memphric was John Rous, an
imaginative historian, no respecter of facts, who died,
full of years and inventions, in 1491. Hear him dis¬
course in his fluent, pleasantly circumstantial style:
<< About this time Samuel the servant of God was Judge
in Judea, and King Magdan had two sons, that is to say
Mempricius and Malun. The younger of the two having
been treacherously slain by the elder, the fratricide inherited
the kingdom. In the twentieth year of his reign, he was
surrounded by a large pack of very savage wolves, and
being torn and devoured by them, ended his existence in a
horrible manner. Nothing good is related of him except
that he begot an honest son and heir, Ebrancus by name,
and built one noble city which he called from his own name
Caer-Memre, but which afterwards in course of time was
called Bellisitum, then Caerbossa, at length Ridohen, and
last of all Oxonia, or by the Saxons Oxenfordia, from a
certain egress out of a neighbouring ford. There arose . eie
in after years an universal and noble seat of learning, derived
from the renowned University of Grek-iade.
u it is situated between the rivers Thames and Cnerweu
which meet there. The city, just as Jerusalem, has to all
appearance been changed; for as Mount Calvary, when
Christ was crucified, was just outside the walls of the city,
and now is contained within the circuit of the walls, so also
there is now a large level space outside Oxford, contiguous
to the walls of the town, which is called Belmount, which
means beautiful mount, and this in a certain way agrees with
one of the older names of the city before named and recited;
that is to say Bellisitum; whence many are of opinion that
the University from Greklade was transferred to this very
Bellus Mons or Bellesitum before the coming of the baxons
and while the Britons ruled the island, and the Church ot b.
Giles, which was dedicated under the name of some other
saint, was the place for the creation of graduates, as now is
the Church of S. Mary, which is within the walls. . . .

The origin of the city is, of course, not the same

thing as the origin of the University, and John Rous,
69
 Oxford and its Story

it will be observed, has adopted the story according to

which the University was said to have been transplanted
to Oxford from fi< Grekelade.” This story is found in
its earliest form in the Oxford Bulorhla, the account
of the University prefixed to the official registers of
the chancellor and proctors. It was probably written
towards the end of the reign of Edward III., some-
where in the third quarter of the fourteenth century.
The sound of G reek in the name Crick lade is quite
enough, in the minds of those who have studied
mediaeval chronicles—histories u farct with merry tales
and frivolous poetry”—to account for the origin of
the myth as to the Greek philosophers. Do you not
find, for instance, the name of Lechclade suggesting
Latin schools (Latinelade) at that place by an
analogous etymological conceit ?
Saith the Hlstoriola, then, after premising that the
University is the most ancient, the most comprehensive,
the most orthodox and the most richly endowed with
privileges:—
u Very ancient British histories imply the priority of its
foundation, for it is related that amongst the warlike
Trojans, when with their leader Brutus they triumphantly
seized the island, then called Albion, next Britain, and
lastly England, certain philosophers came and chose a
suitable place of habitation upon this island, on which the
philosophers who had been Greek bestowed the name
which they have left behind them as a record of their
presence, and which exists to the present day, that is to
say, Grekelade. . .
The grounds of the other statements quoted from
John Rous are yet more fanciful. The assertion that
the University was transferred from without to within
the city walls is a vague echo of a worthless story,
and the name given to the town Bellesitum is obviously
a confusion arising from the latinised for m of Beaumont,
the palace which Henry 1. built on the slope towards
79
The Origin of the University

S. Giles. The names of Caer-bossa and Ridochen

(Rhyd-y-chen) are equally unhistorical, and are based
upon the fantastic Welsh equivalents of Oxenford,
invented by the fertile genius of Geoffrey of Monmouth
for the purposes of his romance (twelfth century).
It would scarcely have been worth while to mention
even so briefly the ingenious myths of the early
chroniclers if it had not been for the fact that they
have swamped more scientific history and that they
were used with immense gusto by the champions in
that extraordinary controversy which broke out in
the days of Elizabeth, and lasted, an inky warfare of
wordy combatants, almost for centuries. It was a
controversy in which innumerable authorities were
quoted, and resort was had even to the desperate
device of forgery.
It arose from the boast of the Cambridge orator,
who, on the occasion of a visit of Elizabeth to
Cambridge, declared:
“To our great glory all histories with one voice testify
that the Oxford University borrowed from Cambridge its
most learned men, who in its schools provided the earliest
cradle of the ingenua artes, and that Paris also and Cologne
were derived from our University

With that assertion the fat was in the fire. Asser¬

tions were issued, and counter-assertions, commentaries
and counter-commentaries.
It is impossible to follow the course of the con¬
troversy here. Suffice it to say that when the war
had been waged for some years, it seemed evident
that the victory would lie with the Oxonians, who
claimed Alfred as their founder, if they could prove
their claim. And the claim appeared to be proved
by a passage attributed to Asser, the contemporary
historian of Alfred’s deeds, and surreptitiously inserted
into his edition of that author by the great Camden.
71
 Oxford and its Story

But that passage occurs in none of the manuscripts of

Asser, and certainly not in the one which Camden
copied. It was probably adopted by him on the
authority of an unscrupulous but interested partisan
who, having invented it, attributed it to a a superior
manuscript of Asser.”
The University cannot, then, claim Alfred the
Great either as her founder or restorer. All the
known facts and indications point the other way. It
was not till 912, some years after Alfred’s death,
that Edward the Elder obtained possession of Oxford,
which was outside Alfred’s kingdom ; Asser knew
nothing of this foundation. It was not till the days
of Edward III., that Ralph Higden’s Polychronicon
apparently gave birth to the myth with the statement
that Alfred—

« By the counsel of S. Neot the Abbot, was the first to

establish schools for the various arts at Oxford; to which
city he granted privileges of many kinds.”

And from that time the myth was repeated and

grew.
But if King Alfred did not found the University,
who did ? or how did it come into existence ?
Briefly the case stands thus. Before the second
half of the twelfth century—the age of Universities —
there are no discoverable traces of such a thing at
Oxford, but in the last twenty years of that century
references to it are frequent and decided. The
University was evidently established, and its reputation
was widely spread.
There abounded there, contemporaries inform us,
umen skilled in mystic eloquence,, weighing the
words of the law, bringing forth from their treasures
things new and old,” And the University was
dubbed by the proud title “The-Second School of
.. 7* ■ '
<The Origin of the University

the Church.” She was second, ’that is, to Paris, as

a school of Theology, and to Paris, . the researches
of modern experts like Dr Rashdall lead us to
believe, she owed her origin.
The Universities, the greatest and perhaps the most
permanent of Medieval Institutions, were a gradual
and almost secret growth. For long centuries Europe
had been sunk in the gloom of the Dark Ages. I he
light of learning shone in the cloister alone, and there
burned with but a dim and flickering flame. In bpain
not one priest in a thousand about the age o ar e
magne could address a common letter of salutation to
another. Scarcely a single person could be found in
Rome who knew the first elements of letters,
England, Alfred declared that he could not recollect
one priest at the time of his accession who understood
the ordinary ■ prayers. Learning lay b"’eJ in J
grave of Bede. At Court, emperors could not write,
and in the country contracts were made verbally for
lack of notaries who could draw up charters.
But towards the end of the eleventh century Europe
began to recover from this state of poverty and
degradation. Christendom had gamed a new impul e
from the Crusades. Trade revived and began to
develop, some degree of tranquillity was restored, and
the growing wealth of the world soon found expression
in an increasing refinement of manners, in the sublime
and beautiful buildings of the age of Cathedrals, and
in a greater ardour for intellectual pursuits.
ASnew fervour of study arose in the West from its
contact with the more cultured East. Everywhere
throughout Europe great schools which bore the name
of Universities were established. ,.i
The long mental inactivity of Europe broke up like
ice before a summer’s sun. Wandering teachers, such
1 Mediaeval Universities.
73
 Oxford and its Story

as Lanfranc or Anselm^ crossed sea and land to spread

the new power of knowledge. The same spirit of
restlessness, of inquiry, of impatience with the older
traditions of mankind, either local or intellectual, that-
had hurried half Christendom to the tomb of its Lord,
crowded the roads with thousands of young scholars,
hurrying to the chosen seats where teachers were
gathered together. A new power, says an eloquent
historian, had sprung up in the midst of a world as yet
under the rule of sheer brute force. Poor as they
were, sometimes even of a servile race, the wandering
scholars, who lectured in every cloister, were hailed as
“ Masters ” by the crowds at their feet.
This title of “Master” suggests, of course, the
nomenclature of the Guilds. A University, in fact, was a
Guild of Study. The word implies1 a community of
individuals bound together for any purpose, in this case
for the purpose of teaching. It was applied to the whole
body of students frequenting the u studium,” and hence
the term came to be used as synonymous with “studium ”
to denote the institution itself. The system of aca¬
demical degrees dates from the second half of the
twelfth century. After the manner of mediaeval

1 “ Universitas est plurium eorporum colleetio inter se

distantium uno nomine special iter eis deputata ” is the well-
known definition of Hugolinus. The term “studium
generate ” or “ studium universale” came into use, so far as
documents are any guide, in the middle of the thirteenrh
century (Denifie). Earlier, and more usually however, the
word “studium'” was used to describe a place where a
collection of schools had been established. The epithet
“generale” was used, apparently, to distinguish the merely
local schools of Charlemagne from those where foreign
students were permitted and even encouraged to come, as
they were, for instance, at Naples by Frederick IL So that
a University or seat of General study was a place whither
students came from every quarter for every kind of
knowledge.
74
cTh^f)rigtn of tbeflnhiprsity

rrafrlmpiT^'m'"ntfcr <4^SB^ling
was limited to those who had served' an “apprentice¬
ship in a University or Guild of Study and were
qualified as Masters of their Art. Nobody was
allowed to teach without a licence from such a Guild,
just as no butcher or tailor was allowed to ply his trade
without having served his proper term and having been
approved by the Masters of his Guild. A University
degree, therefore, was originally simply a diploma of
teaching, which afterwards came to be regarded as a
title, when retained by men who had ceased to lecture
or teach. “ Bachelor ” was the term applied to
students who had ceased to be pupils but had not yet
become teachers. The word was generally used to
denote an apprentice or aspirant to Knighthood, but in^
the Universities came to have this technical signification.
The degree of Bachelor was in fact an important step
on the way to the higher degree of Master or Doctor.
One of the first symptoms of the twelfth century
renaissance may be traced in the revival in Italy of the
study of jurisprudence as derived from the laws of
Justinian. For early in the twelfth century a professor
named Irnerius openecL a school of civil law at
Bologna, and Lombard#^-full of lawyers.
Teachers of that profitable /a$ mm spread from
Bologna throughout Europe, and tMr University was
the first to receive from Frederic Barbarossa the
privileges of legal incorporation. It presently became
known as the special University of young archdeacons,
whose mode of life gave rise to the favourite subject
of debate “Can an archdeacon be saved?” But it
was the school of philosophy at Paris which chiefly
attracted the newly kindled enthusiasm of the studious.
The tradition of the schools of Charlemagne may have
lingered there, although no direct connection between
them and the University which now sprang into being
75
 Oxford and its Story

can be proved. As early as 1109 William of

Champeaux opened a school of logic, and it was to his
brilliant and combative pupil, Peter Abelard, that the
University owed its rapid advancement in the estimation
of mankind. The multitude of disciples who flocked
to his lectures, and listened with delight to his bold
theories and his assertion of the rights of reason against
authority, showed that a new spirit of enquiry and
speculation was abroad. The poets and orators of
antiquity were, indeed, beginning to.be studied with
genuine admiration, and the introduction into Europe
of some of the Arabian writings on geometry and
physics was opening the door to the development of
mathematical science. But the flower of intellectual
and scientific enquiry was destined to be nipped in
the bud by the .blighting influence of scholasticism.
Already among the pupils of Abelard was numbered
Peter Lombard, the future author of “ The Sentences,”
a system of the doctrines of the Church, round which
the dogmatic theology of the schoolmen, trammelled
by a rigid network of dialectics, was to grow up.
It was the light before a dawn which never broke
into day. But as yet the period was one of awaken¬
ing and promise. Students from all parts crowded to
Paris, and the Faculty 1 of Arts in the University was
divided into four “ nations those of France,
Picardy, Normandy and England. John of Salisbury
became famous as one of the Parisian teachers.
Becket wandered to Paris from his school at Merton.
1 This term faculty, which originally^ signified the
capacity (facultas) to teach a particular subject, came to be
applied technically to the subject itself or to the authorised
teachers of it viewed collectively. A University might
include one or all of the u Faculties” of Theology, Law,
Medicine and the Liberal Am, although naturally enough
each of the chief Universities had its own particular
department of excellence. A complete course of instruction
76
The Origin of the University

After spending twelve years at Paris and Chartres,

John of Salisbury, the central figure of English
learning in his time, finally returned to England. S.
Bernard recommended him to Archbishop Theobald,
and in the archbishop’s household at Canterbury he
found in existence a very School of Literature, where
scholars like Vacarius came to lecture on civil law,
where lectures and disputations were regularly held,
and men like Becket and John of Poictiers were
trained.
“ In the house of my Lord the Archbishop,” writes Peter
of Blois, “ are most scholarly men, with whom is found all
the uprightness of justice, all the caution of providence,
every form of learning. They after prayers and before
meals, in reading, in* disputing, in the decision of pauses
constantly exercise themselves. All the knotty questions of
the realms are referred to us. . . . ”

This archiepiscopal school was in fact a substitute

for the as yet undeveloped Universities. . Besides this
school there were, in England, schools in connection
with all the great Cathedral establishments and with
many of the monasteries as well as the houses of the
nobles. There were, for instance, great schools at b.
Albans and at Oxford. But these studia were not
sludia general!*; they were schools merely, not
Universities. It was perhaps to the school which had
sprung up in connection with S. Frideswide’s monastery
that Vacarius lectured, if he lectured at Oxford at all.
It was in such a monastic school, in connection with

in the seven liberal arts, enumerated in the old line Lingua,

tropus, ratio, numerus, tonus, angulus, astra, was intended
as a preparation for a study of theology—the mam business
Of Oxford as of Paris University. The Arts were divided
into two parts, the first including the three easier or
“ trivial” subjects—Grammar, Rhetoric and Logic, the
second the remaining four-Arithmetic, Geometry, Music

and Astronomy.
77
 Oxford arid its Story

S. Frideswide’s, Osncy, or S. George's in the Castle,

that Robert Pullen of Paris lectured on the Bible for
five years (1133), and Theobaldus Stampensis taught.
Henry Beauclerc endeavoured to retain the services of
the former by offering him a bishopric, but he refused
it and left England; Stephen, on the other hand, bade
Vacarius cease from lecturing, since the new system of
law, which he taught and which had converted the
Continent, was inconsistent with the old laws of the
English realm. As to Theobaldus Stampensis, he
styles himself Magister Oxenefordi©, and letters from
him exist which show that he, a Norman ecclesiastic
who had taught at Caen, taught at Oxford before 1117.
An anonymous reply to a tractate in which he attacked
the monks, is responsible for the statement that this
former Doctor of Caen had at Oxford sixty or a
hundred clerks, more or less." But one school or one
lecturer does not make a University.
It has, however, been held, that just as the Uni¬
versity of Paris developed from the schools of Notre
Dame, so the University of Oxford grew out of the
monastic schools of S. Fridcswide's. Such a growth
would have been natural. But if this had been the real
origin of the University,it maybe regarded ascertain that
the members of it would have been subjected to some
such authority as that exercised by the Chancellor of
Notre Dame over the masters and scholars of Paris.
But at Oxford, the masters and scholars were never
under the jurisdiction of the Prior or Abbot of 8.
Frides wide’s or Osney. If they had been, some trace
or record of their struggle for emancipation must have
survived. The Chancellor, moreover, when he is lust
mentioned, proves to be elected by the masters and
scholars and to derive his authority, not from any
capitular or monastic body in Oxford, but from the
Bishop of Lincoln. And the University buildings
7&
The Origin of the University

themselves, in their primitive form, bear silent witness

to the same fact, that the schools or studium in con¬
nection with which the University grew up were in
no way connected with conventual churches and
monasteries. For the schools were not near S. Frides-
wide’s but S. Mary’s.
The independence of the Oxford masters from any
local ecclesiastical authority is a significant fact. Com¬
bined with another it seems to admit of but one ex¬
planation. That other fact is the suddenness with
which the reputation of Oxford sprang up. Before
1167 there is, as we have shown, no evidence of the
existence of a studium generate there, but there are in¬
dications enough that in the next few years students
began to come, clerks from all parts of England.
The account of the visit of Giraldus Cambrensis
(1184-5) reveals the existence of a Studium on a large
scale, with a number of Masters and Facuities. It is
a Studium Generale by that time without a doubt.
And in 1192 Richard of Devizes speaks of the clerks
of Oxford as so numerous that the city could hardly
feed them. ,
What, then, is the explanation of this so sudden de¬
velopment ? Probably it lies in a migration of scholars
to Oxford at this time. The migratory habits of
mediaeval masters and scholars are familiar to everyone
who has the smallest acquaintance with the history of
the Universities. The Universities of Leipzig, Reggio,
Vicenza, Vercelli, and Padua, for instance, were founded
by migrations from one University or another. The
story of Oxford itself will furnish instances in plenty of
the readiness of the University to threaten to migrate
and, when hard pressed, to fulfil their threat. Migra¬
tions to Cambridge, Stamford, and Northampton are
among the undoubted facts of our history. Such a
migration then would be in the natural course of things,
 Oxford and its Story

though It would not satisfy the pride of the inventors

of the Alfred myth. But a migration of this kind did
not take place without a cause. A cause however is not
to seek. At this very period the quarrel of Henry It*
with Thomas a Becket was the occasion for a migration
from Paris, the ordinary seat of higher education for
English ecclesiastics.
A letter from John of Salisbury to Peter the Writer
in 1167 contains this remark: a France, the most
polite and civilised of all nations, has expelled the
foreign students from her borders/*
This, as Dr Rashdall suggests, may possibly have
been a measure of hostility aimed by the French King
against the oppressor of Holy Church and against the
English ecclesiastics, who as a body sided with their
King against thejr not yet canonised primate.
Henry II., on the other hand, took the same
'measures to punish the partisans of Becket. All clerks
were forbidden to go to or from the Continent without
leave of the King, and all clerks who possessed revenues
in England were summoned to return to England
within three months, “as they love their revenues/*
This would produce an exodus from Paris. A large
number of English masters and scholars must have
been compelled to return home. According to the
usual procedure of mediaeval students they were likely
to collect in some one town and set up under their old
masters something of their old organisation. These
ordinances were promulgated between the years 1165
and 1169. The ports were strictly watched in order
to enforce this edict.
The migrating scholars would land at Dover and
lodge, perhaps, for a night or two at the Benedictine
Priory there, before going on to Canterbury. Plere,
if they had been so minded, they might have stayed,
and swelled the great literary circle, with its teachers
80
fhe Origin of the University

and libraries, which had been formed there. . But they

left Gervase at Canterbury to write his history, and
Nigel to compose his verses and polish his satires.
Passing northwards, they might, had they come a little
later, have been absorbed at Lambeth, and the scheme
of Archbishop Baldwin for setting up a College there,
which should be a centre of ecclesiastical learning,
emancipated from monastic restrictions, might then
have been realised. Or, if they had wished to attach
themselves to any existing establishment, the monastic
schools of St Albans might have welcomed them.
But they chose otherwise. It may be that their
experience of Paris led them to choose a place which
was neither a capital nor a See-town. At anyrate the
peculiar position of Oxford, which was neither of these
and yet an important commercial and political centre,
made it admirably suited for the free development of a
University, unharassed by bishops and unmolested by
lord mayors. r . ,r. ,
At Oxford, too, was the Palace of the King, an^
Henry II. was a champion of literary culture by his
very descent. His grandfather had earned the title of
Henry Beauclerk, the scholar King; and hulk the
Good, who had told King Lothar that an unlearned
king is a crowned ass, was a lineal ancestor of his.
And apart from his own hereditary tastes, the position
of Henry as the most powerful king of the Vv est, _ and
the international correspondence which that position
involved, tended to make the Court a^ centre of literary
activity. Learning was sought not for itself only, but
as a part of the equipment of a man of the world. For
whatever reason, whether they were influenced by a
desire, springing from experience of Pans, to establish
themselves where they might be most independent, or
by the physical advantages of Oxford, or the hope of
favour from the King who had recalled them, and who
 Oxford and its Story

at his Court and about his Palace of Beaumont had

gathered round him all that was enlightened and refined
in English and Norman society, or whether they were
directed by mere chance, settling for a session and
staying for centuries, it was to Oxford they came.
Here ready to receive them they would find a town
uhich stood in the front rank of municipalities, com¬
manding the river valley along which the commerce of
Southern England mainly flowed. The mitred Abbey
of Austin Canons, the Priory of S. Frideswide, the
Castle of the D’Oiglis, and the Royal Palace without
the Vallum marked the ecclesiastical and political
importance of the place; the settlement of one of the
wealthiest of the English Jewries in the very heart of
the town indicated, as it promoted, the activity of its
trade. It was still surrounded on all sides by a wild
forest country. The moors of Cowley and Bullingdon
fringed the course of the Thames; the great woods of
Shotover and Bagley closed the horizon on south
and east. But Oxford was easy of access, for there
were the great roads that crossed at Carfax and there
was the thoroughfare of the Thames. And facility of
communication meant regularity of supplies, a matter
of great importance to a floating population of poor
students.
Here, then, the migrating masters and scholars set
up their schools, and within a very short time the
reputation of the University was established through¬
out the length and breadth of the land.
Giraldus Cambrensis, a Welshman, who had achieved
fame as a lecturer at Paris, has given us an interesting
account, of his visit to Oxford in 1187. He came
there with the purpose of reading aloud portions of his
new work, as Herodotus read his history at the
Panathenaic festival at Athens or at the National
Games of Greece. Giraldus had written a book on
82
! he Origin of the University

Ireland—Topographia—and he chose this method of

publishing and advertising it. He writes of himself in
the third person, without any excessive modesty. You
might almost think he was a modern author, asking his
critics to dinner and writing his own fi< Press notices.”

£< In course of time, when the work was finished and

revised, not wishing to hide his candel under a bushel, but
wishing to place it in a candlestick so that it might give
light, he resolved to read it before a vast audience at Oxford,
where the clergy in England chiefly flourished and excelled
in clerkly lore. And as there were three distinctions or
divisions in the work, and each division occupied a day, the
readings lasted three successive days. On the first day he
received and entertained at his lodgings all the poor people
of the whole town ; on the second all the doctors of the
different faculties, and such of their pupils as were of fame
and note; on the third the rest of the scholars with the
milites of the town, and many burghers. It was a costly
and noble act, for the authentic and ancient times of the
poets were thus in some measure renewed ; and neither
present nor past time can furnish any record of such a
solemnity having ever taken place in England.”

It is evident from this passage that the Schools at

Oxford were by this time of considerable note and
size. There was a University here now in fact if not
in name or by charter. A few years later the records
reveal to us the first known student in it. He was a
clerk from Hungary named Nicholas, to whom
Richard I. who had been born in the Palace of
Beaumont, made an allowance of half a mark weekly
for his support during his stay at Oxford for the
purpose of study.
Thus, then, by the beginning of the reign of King
John, we may be sure that there was established at
Oxford a University, or place of general study, and this
University had attracted to itself an academic popula¬
tion, which was estimated by contemporaries at no less
than three thousand souls. And now, just as the
83
 Oxford and its Story

country won its Great Charter of Liberties from

that oppressive and intolerable Angevin monarch, so
documentary evidence of the independent powers of
the University was first obtained, as the result of a
series of events, in which the citizens of Oxford had
been encouraged to commit an act of unjust revenge by
their reliance on John’s quarrel with the Pope and the
clergy. The Pope had laid the whole country under an
interdict; the people were forbidden to worship their
God and the priests to administer the sacraments ; the
church-bells were silent and the dead lay unburied on the
ground. Thr King retaliated by confiscating the land
of the clergy who observed the interdict, by subjecting
them in spite of their privileges to the Royal Courts,
and often by leaving outrages on them unpunished.
a Let him go,” he said, when a Welshman was
brought before him for the murder of a priest, “ he
has killed my enemy.” Such were the political con¬
ditions, when at Oxford a woman of the town was found
murdered in circumstances which pointed to the guilt of
a student. The citizens were eager for vengeance, and
they took the matter into their own hands (1209). *
The offender had fed, but the mayor and burgesses
invading his hostel arrested two innocent students who
lodged in the same house. They hurried them out¬
side the walls of Oxford, and, with the ready assent
of John, who was then at Woodstock, hung them
forthwith. This was a defiance of ecclesiastical
liberty. For it was a chief principle of the Church
that all clerks and scholars, as well as all higher
officials in the hierarchy, should be subject to ecclesi¬
astical jurisdiction alone. For this principle Becket
had died, and in defence of this principle a quarrel now
arose between the University and the town which bade
fair to end in the withdrawal of the former altogether
from Oxford. In protest the masters and scholars
84
The Origin of the University

migrated from the town, and transferred their schools

to Paris, to Reading and to Cambridge. It is, indeed,
to this migration that the Studium Generale on the
banks of the Cam may owe its existence.
The halls of Oxford were now deserted, the schools
were empty. So they remained as long as John’s
quarrel with the Pope endured. But when the King
had knelt before the Papal Legate, Pandulf (1213),
and sworn fealty to the Pope, the Church succeeded
in bringing the citizens, who had no doubt found their
pockets severely affected in the meantime, to their
senses. A Legatine ordinance of the following year is
the University’s first charter of privilege. The
citizens performed public penance; stripped and bare¬
footed they went daily to the churches, carrying
scourges in their hands and chaunting penitential
psalms. When they had thus obtained absolution,
and the University had returned, the Legate issued a
decree by which the townsmen were bound in future,
if they arrested a clerk, to deliver him up on demand
to the Bishop of Lincoln, the Archdeacon of Oxford
or his official, to the Chancellor set over the scholars
by the bishop, or some other authorised representative
of the episcopal power. And thus was established that
immunity from lay jurisdiction which, under slightly
different conditions, is still enjoyed by every resident
member of the University.
This is the first allusion in any authentic document
to the existence of the chancellorship.
Among the minor penalties to which the townsmen
were now subjected was the provision that for ten
years one-half the rent of existing hostels and schools
was to be altogether remitted, and for ten years more
rents were to remain as already taxed before the
secession by the joint authority of the town and the
masters. Further, the town was forever to pay an
85
 Oxford and its Story

annual sum of fifty-two shillings to be distributed

among poor scholars on the feast of S. Nicholas, the
patron of scholars, and at the same time to feast a
hundred poor scholars on bread and beer, pottage and
flesh or fish. Victuals were to be sold at a reasonable
rate, and an oath to the observance of these provisions
was to be taken by fifty of the chief burgesses, and to
be annually renewed at the discretion of the bishop.
The payment of the fine was transferred by an agree¬
ment with the town to the Abbey of Eynsham in
1219, and by an ordinance of Bishop Grossetete the
money was applied to the foundation of u a chest.”
The property of the Abbey passed, after the dissolu¬
tion, to the Crown. And, out of the Consolidated
Fund, payment is still made annually “ to the Vice-
Chancellor, for a poor scholar ”—a pretty instance of
historical continuity.
The size and importance of the University was
shortly afterwards increased by a somewhat similar
disturbance which took place in Paris (1229). A
brawl developed into a serious riot, in which several
scholars, innocent or otherwise, were killed by the
Provost of Paris and his archers. The masters and
students failing to obtain redress departed from Paris
in anger. Henry seized this opportunity of humiliating
the French Monarchy by fomenting the quarrel and
at the same time inviting “the masters and the
University of scholars at Paris ” to come to study in
England, where they should receive ample ..liberty and
privileges. A migration to Oxford was the result of
this royal invitation, which was highly appreciated
not only by the English students at Paris but also by
many foreigners. Two years later the King was able
to boast that Oxford was frequented by a vast number
of students, coming from various places over the sea,
as well as from all parts of Britain.
86
WILLIAM CAMDEN
The Origin of the University

The University remained till well towards the end

of the thirteenth century a customary rather than a
legal or statutory corporation. And in its customs it
was a reproduction of the Society of Masters at Paris.
The privileges and customs of Paris were, in fact,
the type from which the customs and privileges of all
the Universities which were now being founded in
Europe were reproduced, and according to which they
were confirmed by bulls and charters. Thus in 1246
Innocent V. enjoined Grossetete to see that in Oxford
nobody exercised the office of teaching except after he
had qualified according to the custom of the Parisians.
Whilst then the idea of a University was borrowed
from the Continent, and Oxford, so far as her organisa¬
tion was concerned, was framed on the Continental
models, yet the establishment of a University in
England was an event of no small importance.
Teaching was thereby centralised, competition pro¬
moted, and intellectual speculation stimulated. At a
University there was more chance of intellectual
freedom than in a monastic school.
If such was the origin of the University, Alfred did
not found it, still less did he found University College.
University College, “ the Hall of the University,”
may undoubtedly claim with justice to be the earliest
University endowment. But it was at one time
convenient to that College, in the course of a lawsuit
in which their case was a losing one, to claim, when
forgeries had failed them, to be a royal foundation.
The Alfred myth was to hand, and they used it with
unblushing effrontery and a confident disregard of
historical facts and dates. Their impudence for the
time being fulfilled its purpose, and it also left its mark
on the minds of men. The tradition still lingers.
The College Chapel was dedicated at the end of the
fourteenth century to S. Cuthbert, Durham’s Saint,
87
 Oxford and its Story

but the seventeenth-century Bidding Prayer still

perpetuates the venerable fiction, and first among the
benefactors of the 44 College of the great Hall of the
University,’7 the name of King Alfred is cited. In
1872 the College even celebrated, by the English
method of a dinner, the supposed thousandth anni¬
versary of its existence. At that dinner the Chancellor
of the Exchequer, Robert Lowe (Lord Sherbrooke),
wittily upheld the tradition of his College, For, he
argued, if Oxford was in the hands of the Danes at
the time when Alfred founded the University, that
fact only strengthened their case. For King Alfred
was a man so much in advance of his age that it is
not. surprising to find that he had anticipated the modern
political doctrine, which teaches us that the surest way
to earn popularity is to give away the property of our
opponents.
The story of the lawsuit will be found to be in¬
structive if discreditable.
In 1363 the College by two purchases obtained
possession of considerable property in land and houses
which had been the estate of Philip Gonwardy and
Joan his wife. After the College had been in posses¬
sion some fourteen years, however, a certain Edmund
Francis and Idonea his wife came forward to dispute
the right to it. They maintained that Philip Gonwardy
and his wife had had no true title to the estate, for it,
or part of it, had been bequeathed to them by one John
Goldsmith in 1307. And he, they asserted, had by
a later document settled the same property upon them.
The case was tried at Westminster; transferred to
Oxford, where the College obtained a verdict in their
favour, and then taken back on appeal to Westminster.
It was at this point that the document known as the
French petition—it is written in the Court French of
the day—was filed. Finding, apparently, that the
88
'the Origin of the University

case was going against them, the College determined

to use the myth about Alfred, claim to be a royal
foundation and thus throw the matter, and their liberties
along with it, into the King’s hands, leaving the case
to be decided by the Privy Council.
“To their most excellent and most dread and most
sovereign Lord the King,” so ran the petition, “ and to his
most sage council, shew his poor orators, the master and
scholars of his College, called Mickle University Hall in
Oxenford, which College was first founded by your noble
progenitor, King Alfred, whom may God assoil, for the
maintenance of twenty-six divines for ever ; that whereas
one Edmund Francis, citizen of London, hath in virtue of
his great power commenced a suit in the King’s Bench,
against some of the tenants of the said masters and scholars
for certain lands and tenements, with which the College was
endowed . . . and from time to time doth endeavour to
destroy and utterly disinherit your said College of the rest of
its endowment. . . . That it may please your most sovereign
and gracious Lord King, since you are our true founder and
advocate, to make the aforesaid parties appear before your
very sage council, to show in evidences upon the rights of
the aforesaid matter, so that upon account of the poverty of
your said orators your said College be not disinherited,
having regard, most gracious Lord, that the noble saints.
John of Beverley, Bede, and Richard Armacan (Fitzralph,
Archbishop of Armagh), and many other famous doctors
and clerks, were formerly scholars in your said College, and
commenced divines therein, and this for God’s sake, and as a
deed of charity.”
This deed, then, and others, these mere children
in litigation did deliberately forge, attaching the
Chancellor’s seal thereto, in order to substantiate their
absurd, but profitable, pretension. The device was
successful for a time, although the very petition contains
within itself glaring historical contradictions, which
either show supreme ignorance on the part of the
masters and scholars or a cynical assumption of the
, historical ignorance of lawyers. If the College was
founded by King Alfred who came to the throne in
89
 Oxford and its Story

872, it would seem a little unwise to instance as famous

scholars of that foundation c< noble Saints ” like John
of Beverley, who was Archbishop of York in 705,
and the venerable Bede who died in 735.
As to the real founder of University College all the
evidence points to William, Archdeacon of Durham,
who is mentioned as one of the five distinguished
English scholars who left Paris in 1229, in consequence
of the riots between the townsfolk and the University.
Henry’s invitation to the Paris masters to come and
settle at Oxford was immediately accepted by the other
four. Their example was probably soon followed by
William, after a sojourn at Angers. He was appointed
Rector of Wearmouth, and is said to have “ abounded
in great^ revenues, but was gaping after greater.”
Some litigation with the Bishop of Durham led him to
appeal to the Papal Court. His appeal was successful,
but it availed him little, for on his journey home he
died at Rouen (1249). His bones are said by
Skelton to lie in the Chapel of the Virgin in the
Cathedral there. He left 310 marks in trust to the
University to invest for the benefit and support of a
certain number of masters. It was actually the first
endowment of its kind, but it is to Alan Basset, who
died about 1243, that the credit of providing the first
permanent endowment for an Oxford scholar is due.
For he conceived the idea of combining a scholarship
with a Chantry. He left instructions in his will in
accordance with which his executors arranged with
the Convent of Bicester for the payment of eight marks
a year to two chaplains, who should say mass daily for
the souls of the founder and his wife, and at the same
time study in the schools of Oxford or elsewhere.
This was a step in the direction of founding a College,
and indeed the original plan of William was hardly
more imposing.
90
The Origin of the University

The University placed Durham’s money in a

“ Chest,” and used it partly on their own business
and partly in loans to others, barons in the Barons’
War for instance* Such loans were seldom repaid,
and only 210 marks remained. This sum was ex¬
pended in purchasing houses. The first house bought
(1253) by the University was at the corner of School
Street and St Mildred’s Lane.
The site of this the first property held by the Uni¬
versity for educational purposes is now included in the
front, the noisy, over-decorated front, of Brasenose
College. It was called, naturally enough, first the
Hall of the University and afterwards the little
Hall of the University. A second purchase was
made in 1255, when a tenement called Drogheda
Hall, the then first house in the High Street on
the north side, was bought. It stands almost opposite
to the present Western Gate of the College. Brase¬
nose Hall was the next purchase under William’s
bequest (1262), and (1270) a quit rent of fifteen
shillings, charged on two houses in S. Peter’s parish,
was the last. William of Durham had not founded a
College. There is nothing to show that the purchase
of houses by the University was originally made with
any other object than that of securing a sound invest¬
ment of the trust money. There is nothing to show,
that is, either that the houses were bought originally
and specifically as habitations for the pensioned masters
(though they may have lodged there), or that it was
originally intended, either by the University or the
founder, that they should form a community.
Statutes were not granted to the masters admitted
to the benefits of this foundation until the year 1280,
and by that time a precedent had been created. From
the year 1280, then, may be dated the incorporation
of what is now known as University College. A
9i
 Oxford and its Story

very small society of poor masters were, according to

the revised plan, to live together on the bounty of
William of Durham and devote themselves to the
study of theology. And this idea of association was
evidently adopted from the rule for Merton Hall laid
down by Merton six years before. The revenue from
the fund increased rapidly, so that by 1292, the society
was increased from 44 four poor masters” to one con¬
sisting of two classes of scholars, the seniors receiving
six and eightpence a year more than the juniors, and
having authority over them. Other clerks of good
character, not on the foundation, were permitted to
hire lodgings m the Hall, prototypes of the modern
commoner. Funds and benefactions accrued to the
Hall. A library was built, and the society gradually
enlarged. Members of it were enjoined to live like
Saints and to speak. Latin. In the election of new
Fellows a preference was given to those 44 born nearest
to the parts of Durham.” And a graduated fine was
imposed, according to which a scholar who insulted
another in private was to pay a shilling, before his
fellows two shillings, and if in the street," in church or
recreation ground, six and eightpence. For the ad¬
ministration of the College funds a bursar was annually
appointed, whose accounts were subsequently approved
and signed by the Chancellor. This practice of
University supervision was maintained till 1722.
Yet another body of statutes was promulgated in
1311. The study of theology and the preference
given to those who hailed from Durham were em¬
phasised in accordance with the founder’s wishes.
The Senior Fellow was required to be ordained, but
any Fellow who was appointed to a benefice of five
marks a year now forfeited his election. This latter
regulation, which occurs in substance in most of the
fourteenth century foundations—by the Statutes of
92
'the Origin of the University

Queen’s, indeed, a Fellow who refused a benefice

forfeited his fellowship—shows that fellowships were
intended not as mere endowments of learning but as
stepping-stones to preferment. It does not, on the
other hand, show that the founders did not contem¬
plate the existence of life-fellows. I think that it is
tolerably clear Walter de Merton did. The office of
Master of the College grew out of the position of the
Senior Fellow; his authority was asserted by new
statutes given in 1476.
It was in 1332 that the scholars of William of
Durham moved from the corner house on the north
side of the High Street, if that was where they abode,
to the site of their present College, bounded by Logic
Lane and Grove Street, and forming in the southern
curve of the High Street, one of the most effective
and noble features in that splendid sweep which
embraces, on the other side, Queen’s, All Souls’, St
Mary’s, Brasenose, and All Saints’.
The society had received large benefactions from a
generous donor, Philip Ingleberd of Beverley, and
they now purchased Spicer’s (formerly Durham’s)
Hall, the first house in St Mary’s parish, which stood
near the present western gateway of University College.
Further benefactions made further purchases possible.
White Hall and Rose Hall in Kybald Street were
bought, and Lodelowe Hall, on the east of Spicer’s
Hall (1 336). Spicer’s Hall soon came to be known
as the University Hall the hall next to it, when
acquired, was distinguished as Great University Hall.
The reversion to the remainder of the High Street
frontage, between Lodelowe Hall and the present
Logic Lane,1 was not secured till 1402, when the
munificence of Walter Skirlaw, Bishop of Durham,
1Logic Lane is t£ the site of the Logic School founded by
King Alfred.”

93
 Oxford and its Story

enabled the society to extend their property and their

numbers. The tenements thus acquired were called
Little University Hall and the Cock on the Hoop.
The next purchase of the College involved them in
that lawsuit which has had so curious a result upon the
imaginations of its subsequent members.
Thus, then, the foundation of William had become
a College, “ the first daughter of Alma Mater/’
Being the first “ Hall ” acquired by the University it
came to be spoken of as “ The Hall of the University,”
and the members of the foundation, as “ Scholars of
University Hall.” Their proper title, u Scholars of
the Hall of William of Durham,” gradually fell out
of use. Strangers to the University system usually
find themselves confused by the relations of the Uni¬
versity and the Colleges. The University, then, let
it be said, is a corporation existing apart from the
Colleges; the Colleges are separate incorporated
foundations, independent, though practically sub¬
ordinate to it. Their relations, in fact, are very
similar to those between the Federal Government and
the separate states of the American Union.
The old thatched halls of wood and clay were used
till it became necessary to rebuild in 1634. The new
Quadrangle was designed to be 100 feet square.
For the new broad, battlemented tower with a fine
oriel window commanding the High Street, the type
of the old one (1472), was adopted in the Oxonian
pseudo-Gothic fashion of the time. Two or three
years later the building of the new Chapel and Hall
was begun. The fine oak roof of the Hall was con¬
cealed by a plaster ceiling in the eighteenth century
and ought to be disclosed. For the Chapel, Oriel
was taken as a model. The beautiful panelling and
rich carving of the woodwork form the most valuable
feature of it. The windows, executed by Abraham
94
The Origin of the University

van Linge but not erected till after the Restoration,

still find some admirers. Hall and Chapel alike have
suffered through being tinkered within and without
by successive revivers of Gothic. The pinnacles and
buttresses of that style have supplanted the pediments
and Doric pilasters of the Grecian.
At right angles to the Hall the old library was
built over the kitchen (1669). It is now used for
rooms; the present Library having been built from
designs by Sir Gilbert Scott, to house the gigantic
statues of Lord Eldon and Lord S to well, bequeathed
to the College by the grandson of the former. This
mass of marble weighs over sixteen tons. A smaller
version of this seventeenth century quadrangle was
finished in 1719.
For in 1714 had died Dr John Radcliffe, a famous
and witty doctor, whose skill had secured him the
post of court physician and whose wit had deprived
him of it. For he offended William III. by remark¬
ing to that dropsical monarch, that he would not have
his two legs for his two kingdoms. It had long been
known that the worthy doctor intended to make his
College and his University his heirs. His munificence
was rewarded by a public funeral of unexampled
splendour and a grave in the nave of St Mary’s. The
bulk of his fortune he devoted to specific purposes
benefiting the University, but he left a large sum to
University College “for the building of the front
down to Logic Lane, answerable to the front already
built, and for building the master’s lodging 1 therein,
1 The office of Master of the College grew out of
the position of the Senior Fellow. He now lives
in the beautiful house designed by Mr Bodley, (Grove
Street). V
In 1842 a further extension of the College took place
when, on the sites of the old Deep and Staunton Halls the
present buildings on the extreme west of the College were

95
 Oxford and its Story

and chambers for his two travelling Fellows/5 whom

he endowed. The Radcliffe Quadrangle1 com¬
memorates his benefaction to his College; the Rad¬
cliffe Infirmary (Woodstock Rond, 1770), the Rad-
cliffe Observatory, built 1772-1795, on a site given
by George, Duke of Marlborough ; and last, but not
least, the Radcliffe Library, or, as it is more usually
termed, the Camera Rodleiana (James Gibbs, architect,
1737-1749), stand forth in the city as the noble
monuments of his intelligent munificence*
The magnificent dome of the latter forms one of
the most striking features among Oxford buildings.-

Neither the University of Oxford nor University

College can justly claim to be connected with the
name of Alfred the Great. But there are relics of
Alfred and Alfred’s time preserved at Oxford which
should be of interest to the visitor. In the Bodleian
may be seen certain coins which have led historians
to assume that Alfred set up a mint at Oxford, and
to argue from this supposed fact that his rule was
firmly established over Mercia. The coins in question,

built from designs by Sir Charles Barry. Of late years No.

85 High Street has been gradually absorbed into the range
of the College buildings, and may perhaps form the begin¬
ning of a third and twentieth century Quadrangle.
1 In a niche over the gateway, the Doctor is represented
holding in his hand the statf of iEsculapins.
2 A portrait of Dr Radcliffe, by Sir Godfrey Knell or,
hangs over the doorway. The building was used at first
to house works on Natural History, Physical Science and
Medicine, for it was Radcliffe’s object to encourage these
studies. The Library was therefore known as the Physic
Library. This has been removed to the University Museum,
and the Camera is now used as a reading-room in connection
with the Bodleian. It is open for the use of students daily
from ten to ten. Visitors to Oxford are recommended to
climb to the roof and obtain the magnificent panoramic view
of the city and neighbourhood which it commands,
96
G
 The Origin of the University

which were all found in Lancashire, are variations of

the type bearing these letters;—

Obverse. ORSNA, then in another line

ELFRED, and in the third line FORD A.
Reverse BERNV + -f- + ALDN°

It is assumed that these words indicate that Bern-

wald was a moneyer who was authorised by Alfred to
strike coins at Oxford. But why Oxford should be
written Orsnaforda and why, instead of the usual
practice of abbreviation, the name of the place of the
mint should have been written wrongly and at ex¬
cessive length is not explained. I do not think there
is any sufficient reason to connect the Orsnaforda coins
with Oxford at all.1
Whether Alfred’s sceptre held sway over Mercia
so that it can be stated definitely that “ Wessex and
Mercia were now united as Wessex and Kent had
long been united by their allegiance to the same ruler ”
(Green) or not, the fact is not to be deduced from
an imaginary mint at Oxford, any more than from
the forged documents in the archives of University
College or from the presence of what is known as
King Alfred’s jewel in the University galleries,
(Beaumont Street).
This beautiful specimen of gold enamelled work
was found in Somersetshire in 1693 and added to the
Ashmolean collections a little later. The inscription
“ Aelfred mee heht gevvrean” (Alfred ordered me
to be made) which it bears has earned it its title.2
1 Jhe contrary is argued by Mr Carlyon-Britton in the
British Numismatic Journal, vol. ii,
2 The whole story of the work of pious King Alfred done
at Oxford was, as Wood tells us, in the reign of Henry VII.
“ lively represented in colours,” painted in the large glass
window then set up at the west end of St. Mary’s church.
The statue of the king still figures in the Common Room
of University College.
 Oxford and its Story

The promotion of Edmund Rich, the Abingdon lad

who was afterwards made an archbishop and then a saint,
to the degree of Master of Arts, is the earliest mention
of that degree in Oxford. The story of his life
there gives the best illustration we have of the early
years and growth of the University.
In the ardour of knowledge and the passionate purity
of youth he vowed himself to a life of study and
chastity. In the spirit of mystical piety which was
ever characteristic of him, secretly as a boy he took
Mary for his bride. Perhaps at eventide, when the
shadows were gathering in the Church of S. Mary and
the crowd of teachers and students were breaking up
from the rough schools which stood near the western
doors of the church in the cemetery without, he
approached the image of the Virgin and slipped on
Mary’s finger a gold ring. On that ring was en¬
graved “ that sweet Ave with which the Angel it
the Annunciation had hailed the Virgin.” Devout
and studious, the future saint was not without boy¬
ish tastes. He paid more attention to the music
and singing at S. Mary’s, we are told, than to the
prayers. On one occasion he was slipping out of the
church before the service was finished in order to
join the other students at their games. But at the
north door a divine apparition bade him return, and
from that time his devotion grew more fervent. It
is recorded with astonishment by his biographers as
a mark of his singular piety, that when he had taken
his degree as Master he would attend mass each day
before lecturing, contrary to the custom of the scholars
of that time, and although he was not yet in orders.
For this purpose he built a chapel to the Virgin in
the parish where he then lived. His example was
followed by his pupils. « So study,” such was the
maxim he loved to impress upon them, “ as if you
100
Ihc Origin of the University

were t0 ^Ve for ever; so live as if you were to die

to-morrow.” How little the young scholar, to whom
Oxford owes her first introduction to the Logic of
Aristotle, cared for the things of this world is shown
by his contemptuous treatment of the fees which the
students paid to the most popular of their teachers.
He would throw down the money on the window-sill,
and there burying it in the dust which had accumulated,
“ dust to dust, ashes to ashes,” he would cry, cele¬
brating its obsequies. And there the fee would lie
till - a student in joke or earnest theft ran off with it.
So for six years he lectured in Arts. But even know¬
ledge brought its troubles. The Old Testament,
which with the copy of the Decretals long formed his
sole library, frowned down upon a love of secular
learning, from which Edmund found it hard to wean
himself. The call came at last. He was lecturing
one day in Mathematics, when the form of his dead
mother appeared to him. “ My son,” she seemed to
say,£< what art thou studying ? What are these strange
diagrams over which thou porest so intently l ”
She seized Edmund’s right hand, and in the palm
drew three circles, within which she wrote the names
of the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost. “ Be these
thy diagrams henceforth, my son,” she cried. And
so directed, the student devoted himself henceforth to
Theology.1
This story, Green observes, admirably illustrates
the latent opposition between the spirit of the Uni¬
versity and the spirit of the Church. The feudal and
ecclesiastical order of the old mediaeval world were
both alike threatened by the new training. Feudalism
rested on local isolation. The University was a
1 “ The famous well of S. Edmund,” near Cowley Ford,
afterwards became very popular as a resort where you might
expect to be healed of wounds and sickness.
IOI
 Oxford and its Story

protest against this isolation of man from man. What

the Church and Empire had both aimed at and both
failed in, the knitting of Christian nations together into
a vast commonwealth, the Universities of the time
actually did.
On the other hand, the spirit of intellectual inquiry
promoted by the Universities, ecclesiastical bodies
though they were, threatened the supremacy of the
Church. The sudden expansion of the field of educa¬
tion diminished the importance of those purely ecclesi¬
astical and theological studies, which had hitherto
absorbed the whole intellectual energies of mankind.
For, according to the monastic ideal, theology was
confined to mere interpretation of the text of Scripture
and the dicta of the Fathers or Church. To this
narrow science all the sciences were the handmaids.
They were regarded as permissible only so far as
they contributed to this end. But the great out¬
burst of intellectual enthusiasm in the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries created a momentary revolution in
these matters. The whole range of science as revealed
by the newly discovered treasures of Greek thinkers
and Roman Jurists was now thrown open to the
student. And this faint revival of physical science,
this temporary restoration of classical literature, a
re-discovery as it were of an older and a greater world,
and contact with a larger, freer life, whether in mind,
in society or politics, introduced a spirit of scepticism,
of doubt, of denial, into the realms of unquestionable
belief.
But the Church was alive to the danger. Fiercely
she fought the tide of opposition, and at last won back
the allegiance of the Universities. Through the
Schoolmen ecclesiasticism once more triumphed, and
the reign of Theology was resumed. Soon scholas¬
ticism absorbed the whole mental energy of the student
102
The Origin of the University

world. The old enthusiasm for knowledge died

down; science was discredited, and literature in its
purer forms became extinct.
The scholastic philosophy, so famous for several
ages, has passed away and been forgotten. We cannot
deny that Roscelin, Anselm, Abelard, Peter Lombard,
Albertus Magnus, Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus and
Ockham were men of acute and even profound under¬
standing, the giants of their own generation. But all
their inquiries after truth were vitiated by two in¬
surmountable obstacles—the authority of Aristotle and
the authority of the Church. For Aristotle, whom
the scholastics did not understand, and who had been
so long held at bay as the most dangerous foe or
mediaeval faith, whom none but Anti-Christ could
comprehend, was now turned, by the adoption of his
logical method in the discussion and definition of
theological dogma, into its unexpected ally. It was
this very method which led to that “unprofitable
subtlety and curiosity ” which Lord Bacon notes as
the vice of the scholastic philosophy.
Yet the scholastic mode of dispute, admitting of no
termination and producing no conviction, was sure in
the end to cause scepticism, just as the triviality of the
questions on which the schoolmen wasted their amazing
ingenuity was sure at last to produce disgust. What
could be more trifling than a disquisition about the
nature of angels, their means of conversing, and the
morning and evening states of their understanding,
unless perhaps it were a subtle and learned dispute
as to whether a chimsera, buzzing in a vacuum, can
devour second intentions ? John of Salisbury ob¬
served of the Parisian dialecticians in his own time,
that after several years absence he found them not
a step advanced, and still employed in urging and
parrying the same arguments. His observation was
103
 Oxford and its Story

applicable to the succeeding centuries. After three

or four hundred years the scholastics had not untied a
single knot or added one unequivocal truth to the domain
of philosophy. Then men discovered at last that they
had given their time for the promise of wisdom, and
had been cheated in the bargain. At the revival of
letters the pretended science had few advocates left,
save among the prejudiced or ignorant adherents of
established systems.
And yet, in the history of education and of the
historical events which education directs, the dis¬
cussions of the schoolmen hold a place not altogether
contemptible. Their disputes did at least teach men
to discuss and to define, to reason and to inquire. And
thus was promoted the critical spirit which was boldly
to challenge the rights of the Pope, and to receive and
profit by the great disclosures of knowledge in a
future age.
Of the early schools and the buildings which sprang
into existence to mark the first beginnings of the
University, no trace remains.
The Church of S. Giles in north Oxford, which,
as we have seen, is the church claimed by Rous as the
S. Mary's of his imaginary University in Beaumont
Fields, is the only architectural illustration of this
period. It was consecrated by S. Hugh, the great
Bishop of Lincoln, and is of interest as affording one
of the earliest examples of lancet work in England
(11801210?). The high placed windows in the
north wall of the nave are Norman; the tower is in
the Transition style.

104
 CHAPTER IV

The Coming of the Friars

The Black Friars—The Grey Friars—The Franciscan
Scholars—Grossetete, Adam Marsh, Roger Bacon,
“ Friar Bacon’s Study”—The White Friars—Beau¬
mont Palace—The Austin Friars and others—The
Benedictines, Gloucester Hall, (Worcester College), and
Durham Hall (Trinity College)—Richard de Bury—
Rewley Abbey and the Cistercians—Chichele and the
Bernardines (S„ John’s College)—Smaller Religious
Foundations—S. Bartholomew’s—Hospital of S. John
Baptist (Magdalen College)—The Friars’ Schools—
Walter de Merton founds a College for the training of
Secular Clergy—Merton College—Exeter. College and
Oriel College, likewise bulwarks against the Friars—
Canterbury College—Balliol College due to the in¬
fluence of a Franciscan Friar—Scotists and Thomists—
John Wycliff—Archbishop Arundel suppresses
Lollardism—Lincoln College founded to combat it.

C CARCELY had the University established itself

in Oxford, when an immigration into that city
took place, which was destined to have no inconsider¬
able influence on its history. Bands of men began to
arrive and to settle there, members of new orders
vowed to poverty and ignorance, whose luxury in
after years was to prove a scandal, and whose learning
was to control the whole development of thought.
In the thirteenth century the power of the priesthood
over Christendom was at its height, but it was losing
its religious hold over the people. The whole energy
of the Church seemed to be absorbed in politics;
105
 Oxford and its Story

spiritually the disuse of preaching, the decline of the

monastic orders into rich landowners, the non-residence
and ignorance of parish priests combined to rob her of
her proper influence. Grossetete issued ordinances
which exhorted the clergy, but in vain, not to haunt
taverns, gamble or share in drinking bouts and in the
rioting and debauchery of the barons.
It was in these circumstances that Dominic and
Francis, men so strangely different in other ways,
were moved to found orders of New Brethren, who
should meet false sanctity by real sanctity ; preaching
friars who should subsist on the alms of the poor and
carry the Gospel to them. The older monasticism
was reversed; the solitary of the cloister was ex¬
changed for the preacher, the monk for the friar.
Everywhere the itinerant preachers, whose fervid
appeal, coarse wit and familiar stories brought religion
into the market-place, were met with an outburst of
enthusiasm. On their first coming to Oxford, the
Dominicans or Black Friars were received with no
less enthusiasm than elsewhere.
Lands were given to them in Jewry ; buildings and
a large school were erected for them by benefactors
like Walter Mai clerk, Bishop of Carlisle, and Isabel
de Boulbec, Countess of Oxford, or the friendly
Canons of St Frideswide. So greatly did they
flourish that they soon outgrew their accommodation.
They sold their land and buildings, and with the pro¬
ceeds built themselves a house and schools and church
“on a pleasant isle in the south suburbs,” which was
granted them by Henry III. (1259). The site of
their new habitation at the end of Speedwell Street
(Preachers’ Lane) is indicated by the Blackfriars
Road and Blackfriars Street in the parish of St Ebbe.
Their library was large and full of books; the church
was dedicated to S. Nicholas. It was situated near
106
The Coming of the Friars

Preachers5 Bridge, which spanned the Trill Mill

Stream.
The Grey Friars followed hard on the heels of the
Black. For in the year 1224 nine Franciscans
arrived at Dover. Five of them went to Canterbury,
four to London, whence two of them made their way
to O xford—Richard of Inge worth and Richard of
Devon. Their journey was eventful. Night drew
on as they approached Oxford. The waters were
high and they were fain to seek shelter in a grange
belonging to the monks of Abingdon u in a most vast
and solitary wood” (Culham ?).

“ The porter who came to the door looked upon them

(having dirty faces, ragged vestments, and uncouth speech)
to be a couple of jesters or counterfeits. The Prior caused
them to be brought in that they might quaff it and show
sport to the monks. But the Friars said they were mistaken
in them; for they were not such kind of people, but the
servants of God, and the professors of an apostolic life.
Whereupon the expectation of the monks being thus frus¬
trated, they vilely spurned at them and caused them to be
thrust out of the gate. But one of the young monks had
compassion on them and said to the porter : £ I desire thee
for the love thou bearest me that when the Prior and monks
are gone to rest thou wouldest conduct those poor people
into the hay-loft, and there I shall administer to them food.’
Which being according to his desire performed, he carried
to them bread and drink, and remaining some time with
them, bade them at length a good night, and devoutly
commended himself to their prayers.
“No sooner had he left them, solacingtheirraging stomachs
with refreshment, but he retired to his rest. But no sooner
had sleep seized on him, than he had a dreadful dream which
troubled him much. He saw in his sleep Christ sitting
upon His throne calling all to judgment; at length with a
terrible voice He said: 6 Let the patrons of this place be
called to me.’ When they and their monks appeared, came
a despised poor man in the habit of a minor friar, and stood
opposite them saying to Christ these words: 4 O just Judge,
the blood of the minor friars cryeth to thee, which was the
last night by those monks standing there endangered to be
107
 Oxford and its Story

spilt; for they, when they were in great fear of perishing

by the fury of hunger and wild beasts, did deny them
lodging and sustenance—those, O Lord, who have leaved
all lor thy sake and are come hither to win souls for which
thou dying hast redeemed—have denied that which they
would not to jesters.’ These words being delivered Christ
with a dreadful voice said to the Prior: ‘Of what order art
thou. He answered that he was of the order of S. Benedict
Then Christ, turning to S. Benedict said, Ms it true that he
speaks? S. Benedict answered, ‘Lord, he and his com¬
panions are overthrowers of my religion, for 1 have given
charge in my rule that the Abbot’s Table should be free
for guests, and now these have denied those things that
were but necessary for them.’ Then Christ, upon this
complaint, commanded that the Prior before mentioned
should immediately be hanged on the elm-tree before the
cloister Afterwards the sacrist and cellarer being examined
did undergo the same death also. These things being done,
Christ turned Himself to the young monk that had com-
passion on the said friars, asking him of what order he was
Who thereupon, making a pause and considering how his
brethren were handled, said at length, ‘ I am of the order
that this poor man is.’ Then Christ said to the poor man,
whose name was as yet concealed, ‘ Francis, is it true that
9
he saith, that he is of your order? e
Francis answered. He
is mine, O Lord, he is mine; and from henceforth I receive
him as one of my order/ At which very time as those
words were speaking, Francis embraced the young monk
so ciosJ that> being thereupon awakened from his sleep, he
suddenly rose up as an amazed man ; and running with his
garments loose about him to the Prior to tell him all the
passages of his. dream found him in his chamber almost
suffocated in his sleep. To whom crying out with fear
and finding no answer from him, ran to the other monks’
whom also he found in the same case. Afterwards the said
young monk thought to have gone to the friars in the hay¬
loft; but they fearing the Prior should discover them, had
departed thence very early. Then speeding to the Abbot
of Abingdon, told him all whatsoever had happened. Which
story possessing him for a long time after with no small
horror, as the aforesaid dream did the said young monk,
did both (1 am sure the last) with great humilitv and con¬
descension come afterwards to Oxon, when the"said friars
had got a mansion there, and took upon them the habit of
o. Francis.”
108
The Coming of the Friars

This quaint story of the first coming of the Grey

Friars to Oxford illustrates very plainly the hostility
between the old orders of the friars and the new;
the opposition of the parochial priesthood to the
spiritual energy of the mendicant preachers, who,
clad in their coarse frock of grey serge, with a girdle
of rope round their waist, wandered barefooted as
missionaries over Asia, battled with heresies in Italy
and Gaul, lectured in the Universities and preached
and toiled among the poor.
The Grey Friars were hospitably received by the
Black, till Richard le Mercer, a wealthy burgess, let
them a house in St Ebbe’s parish, “ between the
church and water-gate (South-gate), in which many
honest bachelors and noble persons entered and lived
with them.” Perhaps it was this increase in their
numbers which compelled them to leave their first
abode somewhere by the east end of Beef Lane,
and to hire a house with ground attached from Richard
the Miller. This house lay between the wall and
Freren Street (Church Street). All sorts and con¬
ditions of men flocked to hear them. Being well
satisfied, it is said, as to their honest and simple
carriage and well-meaning as also with their doctrine,
they began to load them with gifts and to make
donations to the city for their use. One of their
benefactors, Agnes, the wife of Guy, for instance,
gave them “ most part of that ground which was
afterwards called Paradise ” (cf Paradise Square).
A small church was built, and bishops and abbots
relinquishing their dignities and preferments became
Minorites. They scorned not “the roughness of
the penance and the robe,” but “ did with incomparable
humility carry upon their shoulders the coul and the
hod, for the speedier finishing this structure,” ; The
site chosen by the Grey Friars for their settlement
109
 Oxford and its Story

is not without significance. The work of the friars

was physical as well as moral. Rapid increase of
population huddled within the narrow circle of the
walls had resulted here as elsewhere in overcrowding,
which accentuated the insanitary conditions of life.
A gutter running down the centre of unpaved streets
was supposed to drain the mess of the town as well
as the slops thrown from the windows of the houses.
Garbage of all sorts collected and rotted there.
Within the houses the rush-strewn floors collected a
foul heritage of scraps and droppings. Personal
uncleanliness, encouraged by the ascetic prohibitions
and directions of a morbid monasticism, which, revolt¬
ing from the luxury of the Roman baths and much
believing in the necessity of mortifying the flesh,
regarded washing as a vice and held that a dirty shirt
might cover a multitude of sins, was accentuated by
errors of diet, and had become the habit of high and
low. Little wonder that fever or plague, or the
more terrible scourge of leprosy, festered in the
wretched hovels of the suburbs of Oxford as of every
town. Well, it was to haunts such as these that S.
Francis had pointed his disciples. At London they
settled in the shambles of Newgate; at Oxford they
chose the swampy suburb of S. Ebbe’s. Huts of
mud and timber, as mean as the huts around them,
rose within the rough fence and ditch that bounded
the Friary; for the Order of St Francis fought hard,
at first, against the desire for fine buildings and the
craving for knowledge which were the natural
tendencies of many of the brethren. In neither case
did the will of their founder finally carry the day.
“ Three things/’ said Friar Albert, Minister
General, “tended to the exaltation of the Order—
bare feet, coarse garments, and the rejecting of
money.” At first the Oxford Franciscans were
no
The Coming of the Friars

zealous in all those respects. We hear of Adam

Marsh refusing bags of gold that were sent him ; we
hear of two of the brethren returning from a Chapter
held at Oxford at Christmas-time, singing as they
picked their way along the rugged path, over the
frozen mud and rigid snow, whilst the blood lay in
the track of their naked feet, without their being
conscious of it. Even from the robbers and murderers
who infested the woods near Oxford the barefoot
friars were safe.
But it was not long before they began to fall away
from u the Rule,” and to accumulate both wealth
and learning. Under the ministry of Agnellus and
his successor the tendency to acquire property was
rigorously suppressed, but under Hay mo of F aversham
(1238) a different spirit began to prevail. Haymo
preferred that a the friars should have ample areas
and should cultivate them, that they might have the
fruits of the earth at home, rather than beg them from
others.” And under his successor they gained a
large increase of territory. By a deed dated Nov.
22, 1244, Henry III. granted them

“ that they might enclose the street that lies under the
wall from the Watergate in S. Ebbe’s to the little postern
in the wall towards the castle.” In 1245 he made a further
grant. “We have given the Friars Minor our island in
the Thames, which we bought of Henry, son of Henry
Simeon, granting them power to build a bridge over the
arm of the Thames (Trill stream) which runs between the
island and their houses, and enclose the island with a wall.”

When it was completed, then, the Convent of the

Grey Friar could compare favourably with any convent
or college in Oxford, except perhaps S. Frideswide’s
or Osney. On the east side of it, where the main
entrance lay, at the junction of the present Little-gate
Street and Charles Street, was the road leading from
hi
 Oxford and its Story

Water-gate to Preacher’s Bridge; on the South side,

Trill Mill stream; on the West, the groves and
gardens of Paradise ; on the North, as far as West-
gate, ran the City wall.

“Their buildings were stately and magnificent; their

church large and decent; and their refectory, cloister and
libraries all proportionable thereunto.”

The traditional site of this church is indicated by

Church Place as it is called to-day. The cloisters pro¬
bably lay to the south of the church, round u Penson’s
Gardens.”
As the Franciscans fell away by degrees from the
ideal of poverty, so also they succumbed to the desire of
knowledge. 661 am your breviary, I am your
breviary,” S. Francis had cried to a novice who had
asked for a Psalter. The true Doctors, he held, were
those who with the meekness of wisdom show forth
good works for the edification of their neighbours.
But the very popularity of their preaching drove his
disciples to the study of theology. Their desire not
only to obtain converts but also to gain a hold on the
thought of the age had led the friars to fasten on the
Universities. The same purpose soon led them to
establish at Oxford a centre of learning and teaching.
Their first school at Oxford was built by Agnellus
of Pisa, and there he persuaded Robert Grossetete, the
great reforming bishop of Lincoln, to lecture. Agnellus
himself was a true follower of S. Francis and no great
scholar. “ He never smelt of an Academy or scarce
tasted of humane learning,” He was indeed much
concerned at the results of Grossetete’s lectures. For
one day when he entered this school to see what pro¬
gress his scholars were making in literature, he found
them disputing eagerly and making enquiries whether
there was a God. The scandalised Provincial cried
112
The Coming of the Friars

out aloud in anger, “Hei mihi ! Hei mihi! Fratres 1

Simplices ccelos penetrant, et literati disputant utrum
sit Deus ! ” The miracles which were afterwards
reputed to be performed at the grave of this same
excellent friar caused the church of the Grey Friars to
be much frequented.
The friars now began to accumulate books and we
soon find mention of two libraries belonging to them.
The nucleus of them was formed by the books and
writings of Grossetete, which he bequeathed to the
brethren. And they collected with great industry from
abroad Greek, Hebrew and mathematical writings, at
that time unknown in England. The fate of this price¬
less collection of books was enough to make Wood
“ burst out with grief/’ For, when the monasteries
had begun to decay, and the monks had fallen into
ways of sloth and ignorance and were become u no
better than a gang of lazy, fat-headed friars,” they
began to sell their books for what they would fetch and
allowed the remainder to rot in neglect.
Meanwhile the teaching of such scholars as Gros¬
setete and Adam Marsh (de Marisco), the first of the
Order to lecture at Oxford, was not without result.
From the school of the Franciscans came forth men
who earned for the University great fame throughout
Europe. F riars were sent thither to study, not
only from Scotland and Ireland, but from France and
Acquitaine, Italy, Spain, Portugal, and Germany;
while many of the Franciscan schools on the Continent
drew their teachers from Oxford. Duns Scorns and
William Ockham were trained by these teachers ;
Roger Bacon, the founder of modern scientific enquiry,
ended his days as one of the Order. His life, which
stretched over the greater portion of the thirteenth
century, was passed for the most part at Oxford ; his
aspirations and difficulties, his failures and achieve-
H 113
 Oxford and its Story

merits form an epitome, as it were, of the mental

history of his age.
It was only when he had spent forty years and all
his fortune in teaching and scientific research that,
having gained the usual reward of scholarship, and
being bankrupt in purse, bankrupt in hope, he took the
advice of Grossetete, and became a Friar of the Order
of S. Francis. “ Unheard, buried and forgotten/’ as
a member of an Order which looked askance on all
intellectual labour not theological, he was forbidden to
publish any work under pain of forfeiture, and the
penance of bread and water. Even when he was
commanded by the Pope to write, the friars were so
much afraid of the purport of his researches that they
kept him in solitude on bread and water, and would
not allow him to have access even to the few books
and writings available in those days. Science, they
maintained, had already reached its perfection; the
world enjoyed too much light; why should he trouble
himself about matters of which enough was known
already? For as an enquirer Bacon was as solitary
as that lone sentinel of science, the Tuscan artist in
Valdarno. Fronj the moment that the friars settled
on the Universities, scholasticism had absorbed the
whole mental energy of the student world. Theology
found her only efficient rivals in practical studies such
as medicine and law.
Yet, in spite of all difficulties and hindrances, so
superhuman was Bacon’s energy, and so undaunted his
courage, that within fifteen months the three great
works, the Opus Majus the Opus Minus, and the
Opus Tertium were written. If this had been true of
the Opus Majus alone, and if that work had not been
remarkable for the boldness and originality of its views,
yet as a mere feat of industry and application it would
have stood almost if not quite unparalleled. For the
114
The Coming of the Friars

Opus Majus was at once the Encyclopaedia and the

Novum O rganum of the thirteenth century. Of the Opus
Minus the onlyMS. of the work yet known is a fragment
preserved in the Bodleian Library (Digby, No. 218).
The amazing friar met with no reward for his
labours. According to one story, indeed, his writings
only gained for him a prison from his Order. His
works were sold, allowed to rot, or nailed to the
desks that they might do no harm. For Bacon’s
method of study exposed him to the charge of
magic. It was said that he was in alliance with
the Evil One, and the confused tradition arose that
through spiritual agency he made a brazen head and
imparted to it the gift of speech, and that these magical
operations were wrought by him while he was a student
at Brazen Nose Hall.
Necromancy, you see, was practised by the more
daring students, for was there not a certain clerk in
Billyng Hall who, when he had summoned the Devil
into his presence by his art, observed with astonishment
that he did reverence when a priest carrying the sacra¬
ment passed without ? “ Thereupon the student was
much disturbed and came to the conclusion that God
was much the greater and that Christ should be his
Lord. . . And later, was not Dr Thomas Allen
of Gloucester Hall, the astrologer and mathematician
to whom Bodley left his second best gown and cloak
—a common sort of bequest in those days—suspected
by reason of his figuring and conjuring, so that his
servitor found a ready audience when, wishing to
impose upon Freshmen and other simple people, he
used to say that sometimes he would meet the spirits
coming up his master’s stairs like bees ?
Apart from the tradition of the Brazen Nose,
Bacon’s long residence in Oxford left other marks on
the nomenclature of the place. Wood tells us that in
US
 Oxford and its Story

his day a fragment of the ruined Friary was pointed

out as the room where the great wizard had been wont
to pursue his studies. And at a later time tradition
said that Friar Bacon was wont to use as an observatory
the story built over the semi-circular archway of the
gate on the south bridge, and it was therefore known
as Friar Bacon’s Study. The little 44 gatehouse ”
must have resembled Bocardo. It was leased to a
citizen named Welcome, who added a story to it,
which earned it the name of44 Welcome’s Folly.” So
the bridge came to be called Folly Bridge, and
though gate and house have disappeared, the new
bridge still retains the name.1
The Black and the Grey Friars were followed to
Oxford some years later by the White or Carmelite
Friars. Nicholas de Meules or Molis, sometime
governor of the castle, gave them a house bn the west
side of Stockwell Street,2 now part of Worcester
College. They would seem, like the other Orders,
soon to have forgotten their traditional austerity.
Land accrued to them ; they erected suitable buildings
with planted groves and walks upon a large and
pleasant site. But not content with this, they presently
obtained from Edward II. the royal Palace of
Beaumont. Thus they presented the curious paradox
of an Order of monks who derived their pedigree in
regular succession from Elijah, and trod in theory in
the footsteps of the prophets who had retired into the
desert, living at Oxford in the palace of a King.
1 It is from this bridge that the best view of the river and
the College Barges, which line the course of theu Eights,” is
obtained. The University Boat-house is on the further bank.
2 Worcester Street = Stockwell Street (Stoke-Well, the
Well which afterwards rejoiced in the name of Plato's, as
opposed to Aristotle’s Well, half a mile off). East of the
Well was the rough land known till quite recently as
Broken Hayes.
116
The Coming of the Friars

“ When King Edward 1. waged war with the Scots

(1304) he took with him out of England a Carmelite friar,
named Robert Baston, accounted in his time the most
famous poet of this nation, purposely that he should write
poetically of his victories. Again, when King Edward II.
maintained the same war after the death of his father, he

entertained the same Baston for the same purpose. At

length the said king encountering Robert Bruce, was forced
with his bishops to fly. In which flight Baston telling the
king that if he would call upon the Mother of God for
mercy he should find favour, he did so accordingly, with a
promise then made to her that if he should get from the
hands of his enemies and find safety, he would erect some
house in England to receive the poor Carmelites. . . . Soon
117
 Oxford and its Story

after, Bast on and some others were not wanting1 to persuade

him to give to the Carmelites his palace at Oxford” (1317),

where Richard Coeur de Lion had been born.

Beaumont Palace, whilst it remained in the hands
of the Carmelites, was used not merely as a convent
for the habitation of twenty-four monks, but also as
a place of education for members of this Order
throughout England; as well as for seculars who
lived there as 44 commoners.” Cardinal Pole is said
to have been educated in this seminary. The library
and the church of the White Friars were unusually
fine.
Their monastery was dissolved in 1539 and the
friars were turned out penniless to seek their livelihood.
The house and its appurtenances were sold and pulled
down by the purchaser. The stones of the Refectory
were afterwards used to enlarge the library of S.
John’s College. Beaumont Street and Friars’ Entry
preserve by their names at least the memory of the
Palace and the Monastery once here.
The Austin Friars (or Friars eremite of S.
Augustine) came also to Oxford and gradually
acquired property and settled 44 without Smith Gate,
having Holywell Street on the south side of it and
the . chief part of the ground on which Wad ham
College now stands on the north.” The Austin
Friars were famous for their disputations in grammar,
and soon drew to themselves much of the grammatical
training of the place. They engaged also in violent
philosophical controversies with the other Orders, so
that at last they were even threatened with excom¬
munication if they did not desist from their quarrelling.
It was in their convent that the weekly general
disputations of Bachelors, known for centuries after as
“Austins,” were held.
In 1262 the Penitentiarian Friars or Brothers of the
118
The Coming of the Friars

Sack, so called because they wore sackcloth, obtained

from Henry III. a grant of land which formed the
parish of S. Budoc and lay to the west of the property
of the Franciscans. The Order was soon afterwards
suppressed and the Franciscans acquired their house
and lands.
The brethren of the Holy Trinity made a settlement
(1291), outside the East Gate. They acquired the
old Trinity chapel, and had, besides, a chapel within
the East Gate, which was purchased by Wykeham to
make room for New College.
The Crossed or Cruched Friars, after one or two
moves, settled themselves in the parish of S. Peter’s in
the East.
The older religious Orders were presently stimulated
by the example and the success of the friars to make
some provision for the education of their monks. But
they never aimed at producing great scholars or learned
. theologians. Historians of their Order and canonists
who could transact their legal business were the pro¬
ducts which the monastic houses desired.
A Chapter-General held at Abingdon in 1279 im¬
posed a tax on the revenues of all the Benedictine
monasteries in the province of Canterbury with a view
to establishing a house at Oxford where students of
their Order might live and study together. John
GifFard, Lord of Brimsfield, helped them to achieve
their object. Gloucester Hall, adjoining the Palace
of Beaumont, had been the private house of Gilbert
Clare, Earl of Gloucester, who built it in the year
1260. It passed to Sir John GifFard, who instituted
it a “ nursery and mansion-place solely for the Bene¬
dictines of S. Peter’s Abbey at Gloucester.” The
buildings were afterwards enlarged to provide room
for student-monks from other Benedictine abbeys. Of
the lodgings thus erected by the various abbeys for
119
 Oxford and its Story

their novices, indications may still be traced in the old

monastic buildings which form the picturesque south
side of the large quadrangle of Worcester College.

cVyt'r«/ier@c't;e

For over the doorways of these hostels the half-defaced

arms of different monasteries, the griffin of Malmesbury
or the Cross of Norwich, still denote their original
purpose.
At the dissolution, the college was for a short while
120
The Coming of the Friars

made the residence of the first bishop of Oxford.

After his death it was purchased by Sir Thomas
White, and by him converted into a hall for the use
of his College of S. John. Gloucester Hall, now
become S. John Baptist Hall, after a chequered career,
was refounded and endowed in 1714 as Worcester
College out of the benefaction of Sir Thomas Cookes.
In the latter half of the eighteenth century the hall,
library and chapel were built and the beautiful gardens
of “ Botany Bay 55 were acquired.
The Benedictines also held Durham Hall, on the
site of the present Trinity College, having secured a
property of about ten acres with a frontage of about 50
feet (including Kettell Hail) on Broad. Street, and
500 feet on the u Kingis hye waye of Bewmounte.”
It was here that Richard de Bury, Bishop of Durham,
founded the first public library in Oxford. Bury had
studied at Oxford and was the tutor of Edward III.;
statesman and churchman, he was above all things a
book-lover. He had more books, it is recorded, than
all the other bishops put together and, wherever he was
residing, so many books lay about his bed-chamber
that it was hardly possible to stand or move without
treading upon them. In the Philobiblon the bishop
describes his means and methods of collecting books.
In the course of his visitations he dug into the disused
treasures of the monasteries, and his agents scoured the
Continent for those “ sacred vessels of learning.”
The collection of books so made he intended for the
use of scholars, not merely for himself alone.

“ We have long cherished in our heart of hearts,” he

writes, “ the fixed resolve to found in perpetual charity a
hall in the reverend University of Oxford, and to endow it
with the necessary revenues, for the maintenance of a
number of scholars; and, moreover, to enrich the hall with
the treasures of our books, that all and every one of them
I2I
 Oxford and its Story

should be in common as regards their use and study, not only

to the scholars of the said hall, but by their means to all the
students of the aforesaid University for ever.”

And he proceeds to lay down strict regulations based

on those of the Sorbonne, for the use and preservation
of his beloved books and the catalogue he had made of
them.
Richard of Hoton, prior of Durham Monastery,
had begun in 1289 the erection of a college building to
receive the young brethren from that monastery, whom
his predecessor, Hugh of Darlington, had already
begun to send to Oxford to be educated. This colony
of Durham students it was apparently Richard de
Bury’s intention to convert into a body corporate, con¬
sisting of a prior and twelve brethren. And in grati¬
tude for the signal defeat of the Scots at Halidon
Hill, Edward III. took the proposed college under
his special protection. Bury, however, died, and died
in debt, so that he himself never succeeded in founding
the hail he intended. His successor, Bishop Hatfield,
took up the scheme, and entered into an agreement
with the prior and convent of Durham for the joint
endowment of a college for eight monks and eight
secular scholars. This project was completed, by
agreement with his executors, after his death (1381).
But what became of the books of the bishop and
bibliophile, Richard de Bury ? Some of them, indeed,
his executors were obliged to sell, but we need not
distrust the tradition which asserts that some of them
at least did come to Oxford. There, it is supposed,
they remained till Durham Hall was dissolved by
Henry VIII., when they were dispersed, some going
to Duke Humphrey’s library, others to Balliol College,
and the remainder passing into the hands of Dr George
Owen, who purchased the site of the dissolved college.
Whatever happened to Bury’s books, it is certain
122
The Coming of the Friars

that the room which still serves as a library was built

in 1417, and it may be taken to form, happily enough,
the connecting link between the old monastic house
and the modern Trinity College. Some fragments of
the original <c Domus et clausura ” may also survive in
the Old Bursary and Common Room.
The stimulating effect of the friars upon the old
Orders is shown also by the foundation of Rewley
Abbey, of which the main entrance was once north¬
west of Hythe Bridge Street. Rewley (Locus Regalis
in North Gsney) was built for the Cistercians.1
Richard, Earl of Cornwall, brother of Henry III.,
who like the King had often been at Oxford, directed
in his will that a foundation should be endowed for
three secular priests to pray for his soul. His son
Edmund, however, founded an Abbey of regulars in¬
stead, Cistercian monks from Thame. He gave six¬
teen acres to the west of the Abbey for walks and for
private use. To represent the twenty-one monks of
the foundation, twenty-one elm-trees were planted
within the gates, and at the upper end a tree by itself
to represent the abbot. It was to this Abbey, then,
that the Cistercian monks came up to study, till Arch¬
bishop Chichele founded S. Bernard’s for them
(1437). The college which Chichele founded for
the Bernardines, the u Black ” Cistercians who followed
the reformed rule of S. Bernard, was built on the east
side of S. Giles’, “ after the same mode and fashion
for matters of workmanship as his college of All Souls.”
It is the modern college of S. John Baptist. But a
large part of the buildings date from Chichele’s founda¬
tion, and the statue of S. Bernard still stands in its
original niche to recall to the modern student the
Bernardines whom he has succeeded.
The Abbey was dissolved by Henry VIII., who
gave the site to the Cathedral of Christ Church. The
1 See p. 22 n.
 Oxford and its Story

mins were stiil standing m AVood,s day, 66 seated within

pleasant groves and environed with clear streams.”
Only a fragment of a wall and doorway now remain.
A memorial stone, purchased from the site of Rewley
by Hearne the Antiquarian for half a crown, is pre¬
served in the Ashmolean. It bears the name of Ella

Longepee, the benevolent Countess of Warwick, “ who

made this chapel.”
In addition to the numerous parish churches and con¬
vents and colleges, there were now innumerable smaller
religious foundations in Oxford. There was the House
of Converts; there were several hospitals and hermitages
and “ Ancherholds solitary little cells and cabins
124
The Coming of the Friars

standing in the fields and adjoining abbeys or parish

churches.
The House of Converts was founded by Henry III.
(I234)?_and here {(all Jews and infidels converted to
the Christian faith were ordained to have sufficient
maintenance. ’ After the expulsion of the Jews and
when the number of converts began to fail, it was used
as a Hall for scholars and known as Cary’s Inn.
Later it was tne magnificent old Inn, the Blue Boar,
which spanned the old south boundary of Little
Jewry, Blue Boar, Bear or Tresham Lane. The
whole of its site is occupied by the modern Town Hall.
The hospital of S. Bartholomew, which lay about
half a mile to the east of the city, was founded by
Henry I. for leprous folk. It consisted of one master,
two healthful brethren, six lepers and a clerk. The
chapel and buildings were given in 1328 by Edward
III. to Oriel College. In the fourteenth century
forty days indulgence or pardon of sins was granted
by the Bishop of Lincoln to all who would pay their
devotions at the chapel of S. Bartholomew, on the
feast of that saint, and give of their charity to the
leprous alms-folk. The result was that multitudes
resorted there, and the priests and poor people benefited
considerably. But after the Reformation the custom
died out. Later, it was revived, for charitable reasons,
by the Fellows of New College. They changed the
day to May-day, and then

“ after their grave and wonted manner, early in the morning,

they used to walk towards this place. They entered the
chapel, which was ready decked and adorned with the
seasonable fruits of the year. A lesson was read, and then
the fellows sung a hymn or anthem of five or six parts.
Thereafter one by one they went up to the altar where
stood a certain vessel decked with Tuttyes, and therein
offered a piece of silver; which was afterwards divided
among the poor men. After leaving the cnapel by paths
125
 Oxford and its Story

strewn with flowers, they in the open space, like the

ancient Druids, the Apoliinian offspring, echoed and
warbled out from the shady arbours, harmonious melody,
consisting of several parts then most in fashion.” And
Wood adds that “the youth of the city would come here
every May-day with their lords and ladies, garlands, fifes,
flutes, and drums, to acknowledge the coming in of the
fruits of the year, or, as we may say, to salute the great
goddess Flora, and to attribute her all praise with dancing
and music.”

The income of the hospital had previously been

much augmented by the relics which it was fortunate
enough to possess. S. Edmund the Confessor’s comb,
S. Bartholomew’s skin, as well as his much revered
image, the bones of S. Stephen and one of the ribs of
S* Andrew the Apostle, all helped to draw to this
shrine without the walls the worship and the offerings
of the sick and the devout. It is difficult to realise
with what reverential awe men regarded the jaw-bone
of an ancient cenobite, the tooth or even the toe-nail
of a saint or martyr. Charms, in those days, were
considered more efficacious than drugs, and the bones
of saints were the favourite remedies prescribed by the
monkish physicians. Comb your hair with this comb
of Saint Edmund, then, and you would surely be cured
of frenzy or headache ; apply the bones of S. Stephen
to your rheumatic joints, and your pains would dis¬
appear.1 So it was most firmly believed ; and faith
will remove mountains. There was a saint for every
disease. To touch the keys of S. Peter or to handle
a relic of S. Hubert was deemed an effectual mode of
curing madness. S. Clare, according to monkish
leech craft, cured sore eyes; S. Sebastian the plague,
and S. Apollonia the toothache. The teeth of S.
Apollonia, by the way, were by a fortunate dispensation
almost as numerous as the complaint which she took
under her charge was common.
126
The Coming of the Friars

It is said that Henry VI., disgusted at the excess

of this superstition, ordered all who possessed teeth of
that illustrious saint to deliver them to an officer
appointed to receive them. Obedient crowds came to
display their saintly treasures, and lo ! a ton of the
veritable teeth of S. Apollonia were thus collected
together. Were her stomach, says Fuller, pro¬
portionate to her teeth, a country would scarce afford
her a meal.
The relics at 8. Bartholomew’s were so highly prized
that Oriel College thought it desirable to remove them
to their church of S. Mary—where more people might
have the benefit of them. S. Bartholomew’s hospital
was used as a common pest-house for the plague in
1643, and shortly after ■ was completely demolished.
The chapel fared no better, for it was put to base uses
by the Parliamentarians, and the roof, which was of
lead, was melted down to provide bullets for “the
true Church Militant.”
The buildings and chapel were, however, restored
by the patrons, Oriel College. If you follow the
Cowley Road towards Cowley Marsh, you will find
on your left, opposite the old cricket grounds, and
just short of the Military College and barracks, a
ruined building which is the old chapel of S.
Bartholomew, and contains the screen put up in the
time of the Commonwealth. The letters O. C.,
1651, mark it. They stand for Oriel College, not
Oliver Cromwell, we must suppose.
There was a hospital in Stockwell Street, at the
back of Beaumont Palace; there was a hospital of
Bethlehem at the north end of S. Giles’ Church and
Alms-house Place in Holywell Of hermitages we
may mention that known as S. Nicholas Chapel on the
west side of South Bridge. The hermits who lived
there successively were called the hermits of Grand
127
 Oxford and its Story

Pont. They passed their lives, we are told, in

continual prayer and bodily labour-—
“in prayer against the vanities of the world, for poor
pilgrims and passengers that steered their course that way,
receiving of them something of benevolence for that
purpose ; in bodily labour by digging their own graves and
filling them up again, as also in delving and making
highways and bridges,”

“ Our Lady in the wall ” was the name of another

hermitage near S. Prides wide’s Grange, which was in
great repute at one time for the entertainment of poor
pilgrims who came to be cured by the waters of S.
Edmund’s well.
The hospital of S. John Baptist was founded' some
time before the end of the thirteenth century for the
relief of poor scholars and other miserable persons.
Among the property granted or confirmed to it by
Henry III. in a very liberal charter, was the mill
known as King’s Mill at the Headington end of the
path now called Mesopotamia, because it runs between
the two branches of the river.
As a site for rebuilding the hospital the brethren
were given (1231) the Jews’ Garden, outside the
East Gate of Oxford, but it was provided that a space
should be reserved for a burial-ground for the Jews.
This ground formed part of the present site of
Magdalen College, and part of the site of the Physic
Garden, which lies on the other side of the High
Street, facing the modern entrance to that college.
The latter site was that reserved for the Jews’
cemetery; the hospital buildings were erected on the
other portion. When Waynflete began to enlarge
and remodel his foundation of Magdalen Hall (1456),
he obtained a grant from the king whereby the hospital
(which had ceased to fulfil its purpose) and its possessions
were assigned to the President and Fellows of the Hall.
128
The Coming of the Friars

Two years later a commission was appointed by the

Pope, which confirmed the suppression of the hospital
and its incorporation in the college which Waynflete
had been licensed to found,
“ thereby he proposed to change earthly things to heavenly,
and things transitory to things eternal, by providing in
place of the Hospital a College of a President, secular
scholars and other ministers for the service of God and the
study of theology and philosophy; of whom some are to
teach these sciences without fee at the cost of the College.”

Of the buildings which were once part of the old

hospital very little remains. In the line of the present
college, facing the street, a blocked-up doorway to the
west^ of the tower marks one of the entrances to the
hospital. And Wood was probably correct in saying
that the college kitchen was also part of the original
fabric. There is a little statue of a saint over a
doorway inside the kitchen which appears to bear out
this statement.
The various religious Orders were, then, well repre¬
sented at Oxford. Their influence on the University
was considerable ; their relations with it not always
amicable. At first, doubtless, they did much to
stimulate mental activity, whilst the friendship which
Grossetete, who as Bishop of Lincoln exercised a sort
of paternal authority over the University, manifested
towards his “ faithful counsellor/’ Adam Marsh, and
the Franciscans in general, helped to reconcile their
claims with the interests of the University. But the
University was always inclined to be jealous of them;
to regard them bitterly, and not without reason, as
grasping bodies, who were never tired of seeking for
peculiar favours and privileges and always ready to
appeal to the Pope on the least provocation. Before
long, indeed, it became evident that their object was to
gain control of the University altogether. And this
l 129
 Oxford and its Story

endeavour was met by a very strenuous and bitter

campaign against them. For, as at Paris, the friars
soon outlived their welcome, and as at Paris, it was
deemed advisable to set a limit to the number of friar
doctors and to secure the control of the University to
the regular graduates.1
The friars who were sent up to Oxford had usually
completed their eight years' study of Arts in the Friars'
schools, and were probably chosen for the promise they
had shown in the course of their earlier studies. Their
academic studies were confined to the Faculty of
Theology, in its wide mediaeval sense, and of Canon Law,
the hand-maid of theology. But though the regulars
were for the most part subject to the same ordinances as
the secular students in these faculties, yet the Orders
were bound before long to find themselves in antagonism
with the customs of the University. The rules of the
Preaching Friars forbade them to take a degree in
Arts; the University required that the student of
theology should have graduated in Arts. The issue
was definitely raised in 1253, and became the occasion
of a statute, providing that for the future no one should
incept in Theology unless he had previously ruled in
Arts in some University and read one book of the
Canon, or of the Sentences, and publicly preached in
the University. This statute was challenged some
fifty years later by the Dominicans, and gave rise to a
bitter controversy which involved the Mendicant
Orders in much odium. The Dominicans appealed
first to the King and then to the Pope, but the award
1 It was enacted (1302) that the Regents in two Faculties,
with a majority of the Non-Regents, should have the power
to make a permanent statute binding on the whole Uni¬
versity. This system was calculated to drown the friars.
It was confirmed by the arbitrators (1313), who ordered,
however, that the majority should consist of three Faculties
instead of two, of which the Faculty of Arts must be one.
J30
The Coming of the Friars

of the arbitrators appointed upheld the statute. The

right of granting dispensations, however, or graces to
incept in Theology, to those who had not ruled in
Arts, was reserved to the Chancellor and Masters. A
clause which prohibited the extortion of such “ graces 55
by means of the letters of influential persons was inserted,
but was not altogether effective. Certain friars who
had used letters of this kind are named in a proclamation
of the year 1358 ; —

“ These are the names of the wax-doctors who seek to

extort graces from the University by means of letters of
lords sealed with wax, or because they run from hard study
as wax runs from the face of fire. Be it known that such
wax-doctors are always of the Mendicant Orders, the cause
whereof we have found ; for by apples and drink, as the
people fables, they draw boys to their religion, and do not
instruct them after their profession, as their age demands,
but let them wander about begging, and waste the time
when they could learn in curryinsr favour with lords and
ladies.”

From an educational point of view no doubt the

University was right in insisting on the preliminary
training in Arts. Roger Bacon speaks with contempt
of the class that was springing up in his day—people
who studied theology and nothing but theology, and
had never learnt anything of real value. Ignorant of
all parts and sciences of mundane philosophy, they
venture on the study of philosophy which demands all
human wisdom. So they have become masters in
theology and philosophy before they were disciples.5*
The tendency and the danger of our modern educa¬
tional system is to specialise, not in theology but in
science, without any proper previous training in the
humanities.
Whilst the University was engaged in desperate
combat with the friars in defence of its system,
the regulars had succeeded in securing almost a mono-
131
 Oxford and its Story

poly of learning. The same fight and the same state

of affairs prevailed at Paris. And just as at Paris in
order to save the class of secular theologians from

extinction, Robert de Sorbonne established his college

(1257) for secular clerks, so now at Oxford, Walter
de Merton took the most momentous step in the
history of our national education by founding a college
for twenty students of Theology or Canon Law, who
132
7he Coining of the Friars

n°t only were not friars or monks, but who forfeited

their claims to his bounty if they entered any of the
regular Orders. And that his object was achieved
the names of Walter Burley, the Doctor Perspicuus,
Thomas Bradwardine, the profound doctor, and
perhaps John Wycliffe stand forth to prove.
As an institution for the promotion of academical
education under a collegiate discipline but secular
guidance, the found ation of Merton College was the
expression of a conception entirely new in England.
It deserves special consideration, for it became the
model of ail other collegiate foundations, and deter¬
mined the future constitution of both the English
Universities.
Walter de Merton was born at Merton in Surrey.
He studied at Oxford and won such high honour
with the King that he was made Chancellor of the
kingdom. Ranged on the side opposite to that of
Simon de Montford, he was enabled perhaps by the
very success of his opponent and the leisure that so
came to him, to perfect the scheme which he had
early begun to develop. At first he set aside his
estates of Malden, Farleigh and Chessington to support
eight of his young kinsmen in study at the University.
But in 1263 he made over his manor-house and
estate of Malden to a u house of Scholars of Merton,”
with the object of supporting twenty students prefer¬
ably at Oxford. The first statutes were granted
in the following year. The scholars in whom the
property of this house was vested were not allowed to
reside within its walls for more than one week in the
year, at the annual audit. The house was to be
occupied by a Warden and certain brethren or
Stewards. It was their business to administer the
estate and pay their allowances to the scholars. The
scholars themselves were all originally nephews of the
J33
 Oxford and its Story

founder. Their number was to be filled up from the

descendants of his parents, or failing them, other honest
and capable young men, with a preference for the
diocese of Winchester. They were to study in some
University where they were to hire a hall and live
together as a community. It was in the very year
of the secession to Northampton that the statutes
were issued, and it would have been obviously inex¬
pedient to bind the students to one University or one
town. The Studium might be removed from Oxford
or the scholar might find it desirable to migrate from
that University, to Stamford, Cambridge, or even
Paris. The founder, indeed, in view of such a
possibility did acquire a house at Cambridge for his
college (Pythagoras Hall).
The little community thus established at Oxford
was to live simply and frugally, without murmuring,
satisfied with bread and beer, and with one course of
flesh or fish a day.
A second body of statutes given to the community
in 1270 fixed their abode definitely at Oxford and
regulated their corporate life more in detail. A sub¬
warden was now appointed to preside over the students
in Oxford, as well as one to administer at Malden.
Strict rules of discipline were laid down. At meals all
scholars were to keep silence save one, who was to read
aloud some edifying work. All noisy study was for¬
bidden. If a student had need to talk, he must use
Latin. In every room one Socius, older and wiser
than the others, was to act as Praepositus, control the
manners and studies of the rest and report on them.
To every twenty scholars a monitor was chosen to
enforce discipline. One among so many was not found
to suffice, and by the final statutes of Merton one
monitor to ten was appointed. Thus originated the
office of Decanus (Dean).
*34
The Coming of the Friars

A new class of poor students—“ secondary scholars ”

—was also now provided for. They were to receive
sixpence a week each from Michaelmas to Midsummer,
and live with the rest at Oxford. In these secondary
scholars may be seen the germ of the distinction, so
characteristic of English colleges, between the full
members of the society, afterwards known as Fellows
or Socii, and the scholars or temporary foundationers.
Socii originally meant those who boarded together in
the same hall. It was the founder of Queen’s who
first used the word to distinguish full members of the
society from foundationers, who were still later dis¬
tinguished as “ scholares.” Wykeham followed his
example, distinguishing the verus et perpetuus soctus
from the probationer. And from these secondary
scholars it is probable that a century later Willyot
derived his idea of the institution of a separate class of
Portlomstae, the Merton Postmasters. They originally
received a “stinted portion,” compared with the
scholars.
Merton became Chancellor once more on the death
of Henry. He was practically Regent of the Kingdom
till the return of Edward from the Crusades. As
soon as he resigned the seals of office in 1274, he set
himself to revise the statutes of his college at Oxford,
before taking up his duties as Bishop of Rochester.
The wardens, bailiffs and ministers of the altar were
now transferred from Malden to Oxford, which was
designated as the exclusive and permanent home of the
scholars. The statutes now given remained in force
till 1856, and are, to quote the verdict of the late warden,

c< a marvellous repertory of minute and elaborate provisions

governing every detail of college life. The number and
allowances of the scholars; their studies, diet, costume, and
discipline; the qualifications, election and functions of the
warden; the distribution of powers among various college
135
 Oxford and its Story

officers ; the management of the college estates and the coo.

duct of the college business are here regulated with remark¬
able sagacity. The policy which dictates and underlies them
is easy to discern. Fully appreciating the intellectual move¬
ment of his age, and unwilling to see' the paramount control
of it in the hands of the religious Orders—the zealous apostles
of papal supremacy—Walter de Merton resolved to establish
within the precincts of the University a great seminary of
secular clergy, which should educate a succession of men
capable of doing good service in Church and State.
“The employment of his scholars was to be study_not
the claustralis religio of the older religious Orders, nor the
more practical and more popular self-devotion of the
Dominicans and Franciscans. He forbade them ever to take
vows ; he enjoined them to maintain their corporate inde¬
pendence against foreign encroachments ; he ordained that
all should apply themselves to studying the liberal arts and
philosophy before entering on a course of theology ; and he
provided special chaplains to relieve them of ritual and
ceremonial duties. He contemplated and even encouraged
their going forth into the great world. No ascetic obliga- .
tions were laid on them, but residence and continual study
were strictly prescribed, and if any scholar retired from the
college with the in ten don of giving up study, or even ceased
to study diligently, his salary was no longer to be paid. If
the scale of these salaries and statutable allowances was
humble, it was chiefly because the founder intended the
number of scholars to be constantly increased as the revenues
of the house might be enlarged.5’

In this foundation Walter de Merton was the first

to express the only true idea of a college. Once ex¬
pressed, it was followed by every succeeding founder.
The collegiate system revolutionised University life in
England. Merton was never tired of insisting upon
the one great claim which his community should have
to the loyalty, affection and service of its members.
It was this idea which has produced all that is good
in the system. To individual study in the University
schools was added common life; to private aims the
idea of a common good. “ The individual is called
to other activities besides those of his own sole gain.
136
The Coming of the Friars

Diversities of thought and training, of taste, ability,

strength and character, brought into daily contact,
bound fast together by ties of common interest, give
birth to sympathy, broaden thought, and force enquiry
that haply in the issue may be formed that reasoned
conviction and knowledge, that power of independent
thought, to produce which is the great primary aim of
our English University education ” (Henderson).
The founder, who had long been busy acquiring
property in Oxford, had impropriated the Church of
S. John the Baptist for the, benefit of the college, and
several houses in its immediate neighbourhood were
made over to the scholars. The site thus acquired
( 1265-8) became their permanent home and was known
henceforth as Merton Hall.
Of the buildings which were now erected and on
which the eyes of the founder may have rested in pride
and hope, little now remains. The antique stone
carving over the college gate,1 the great north door of

1 This Gateway and the embattled Tower were built in 1418

but were slightly altered in 1836. The sculpture—a relic
of the Church of S. John Baptist—represents S. John Baptist
in the habit of a monk and Christ coming after him with a
Dove over his head. There is also the Agnus Dei, the
Serpent, the Unicorn, Palm-Trees and a Pelican feeding her
young. A Lion, a Lamb and a Hound are represented in
the left half. On this Gateway, beneath a beautiful canopy,
will be seen statues of Henry III, and the Founder.
The front of the College was rebuilt 1588-1631, but re¬
modelled in 1836-38, as was the Warden’s lodging (late
fifteenth century) on the East side of the front Quadrangle.
The old Hall of St Alban with its picturesque old dovecot
has been absorbed (1881) by Merton, and now under the
popular title of il Stubbins ” forms a fourth Quadrangle.
Admiral Blake was perhaps the most famous alumnus of this
Hall, and John Henry Newman its most famous Vice-
Principal. Dovecot and old Hall are gone (1907): the
new wing of the quadrangle on this site is by Mr Basil
Champneys and is extremely successful, in spite of some

137
 Oxford and its Story

the vestibule of the Hall, with fantastic tracery of iron,

perhaps the Treasury and outer Sacristy are relics of
the earliest past. But Chapel, Hall, Library and
Quadrangle are later than the Founder.
As if to emphasise the ecclesiastical character of the
English college, he had begun at once to rebuild the
parish church as a collegiate church. The high altar
was dedicated in the year of his death, 1277 • the rest
of the chapel is of later dates.
The choir belongs to the end of the thirteenth
century (1297), (Pure Decorated); the transepts
(Early Decorated, with later Perpendicular windows
and doors) were finished in 1424, but begun perhaps
as early as the choir; and the massive tower, with its
soaring pinnacles, a fine specimen of Perpendicular
work, was completed in 1451.
It will be noticed that the chapel has no nave, but
that, probably in imitation of William of Wykeham’s
then recently finished naveless chapel at New College,
the nave which had evidently been intended was
omitted at Merton (after 1386). Two arches blocked
with masonry in the western wall and the construction
of the west window indicate this original intention of
adding a nave.
The old thirteenth century glass in the Geometrical
window of the chancel is of great interest. The arms
of Castile and the portrait of Elinor of Castile (d. 1290)
will be noticed. Merton Chapel is very rich both in
glass and brasses. The Altar-piece is a picture of the
Venetian School, and might possibly be, as tradition
claims for it, from the hand of Tintoretto.

feeble and unnecessary ornamentation here and there that

were better away.
The Hall, which owes its present form to Sir Gilbert Scott
(i^74)j occupies the site of the original refectory that was
built at the end of the thirteenth century.
*3*
The Coming of the Friars

On entering the college you are struck at once by

the fact that Merton is not as other colleges arranged
on a preconceived plan. But the irregular and dis¬
connected arrangement of the buildings of the quad¬
rangle are themselves suggestive of the fact that it was
from Merton and the plans of its founder that the
college quadrangles may trace their origin, as it is
from Merton that they derive their constitution. The
hall, the chapel, the libraries and the living rooms, as
essentials for college life, were first adopted here, and
these buildings were disposed in an unconnected manner
about a quadrangular court after the fashion of the
outer Curia of a monastery. The regular disposition
of college quadrangles was first ^completed by
Wykeham, and whilst other colleges have conformed
to the perfected shape, Merton remains in its very
irregularity proudly the prototype, the mother of
colleges.
Of the college buildings the most noteworthy is the
library, the oldest example of the mediaeval library in
England. It was the gift of William Rede, Bishop
of Chichester (1377). The dormer and east
windows and the ceiling are later, but the library as it
is, though enriched by the improvements of succeeding
centuries, beautiful plaster-work and panelling, noble
glass and a sixteenth century ceiling, is not very
different from that in which the mediaeval student
pored over the precious manuscripts chained to the
rough sloping oaken desks which project from the
bookcases. These bookcases stand out towards the
centre of the room and form, with a reader’s bench
opposite to each of the narrow lancet windows, a
series of reader’s compartments. How the books
were fastened and used in those days, you may gain
a good idea by examining the half case numbered
forty-five.
 Oxford and its Story

It was in this library that the visitors of Edward

VI. took their revenge on the schoolmen and the
popish commentators by destroying in their stupid
fanaticism not only innumerable works of theology,
but also of astronomy and mathematical science. u A
cart-load/’ says Thomas Allen, an eye-witness, “ of
such books were sold or given away, if not burnt, for
inconsiderable nothings.” In this library Anthony
Wood was employed in the congenial occupation of
“ setting the books to rights,” and here is preserved,
according to tradition, the very astrolabe which
Chaucer studied. And, for a fact, a beautiful copy
of the first Caxton edition of his works is stored in
the sacristy—a building which up till 1878 was used
as a brewhouse.
The charming inner quadrangle, in which the
library is, rejoices in the name u Mob ” Quad—a
name of which the derivation has been lost. The
remainder of it, like the Sacristy and the Treasury,
probably dates from about 1300. The high-pitched
roof of the latter, made of solid blocks of ashlar, is
one of the most remarkable features of Merton. The
outer sacristy is on the right of the main entrance
passage to Mob Quad, and thence an old stone
staircase leads to the Treasury or Muniment room.
Another passage from the front quadrangle leads to
Patey’s Quad. The Fellows’ Quadrangle was begun
in 1608, and the large gateway with columns of the
four orders (Roman-Done, Ionic, Corinthian, and
Composite) is typical of the architectural taste of the
times. The quadrangle itself, very similar to that of
Wadham, is one of the most beautiful and charming
examples of late Gothic imaginable. It would have
been a fortunate thing if this had been the last building
added to Merton. But it was destined that the taste
of the Victorian era should be painfully illustrated by
140
The Coming of the Friars

the new buildings which were erected in 1864 by Mr

Butterfield. The architect was eager and the college
not disinclined at that time to destroy part of the
library and the Mob Quad. The abominable building
which replaced the beautiful enclosure known as the
Grove, combines with the new buildings of Christ
Church to spoil what might have been one of the most
beautiful effects of water, wood and architecture in
the world—the view of Oxford from the Christ Church
and Broad Walks.
Inspired by the example of Merton and a similar
dislike of monks and friars, Walter de Stapled on, the
great Bishop of Exeter, ordained that the twelve
scholars whom he originally endowed (1314) should
not study theology or be in orders. The society,
afterwards known as Exeter College, was housed at
first in Hart Hall and Arthur Hall, in the parish of
S. Peter in the East, and.was intended by the founder
to be called Stapledon Hall. In the following year
he moved his scholars, eight of whom, he stipulated,
must be drawn from Devonshire and four from
Cornwall, to tenements which he had bought between
the Turl and Smith Gate, just within the walls. The
founder added a rector to their number and gave them
statutes, based on those of Merton, which clearly
indicated that his object was to give a good education
to young laymen. The college was practically re-
founded in 1566 by Sir William Petre, a successful
servant of the Tudors. Of the pre-reformation build¬
ings, nothing unhappily remains save a fragment of the
tower. The rest is seventeenth century or nineteenth,
the front on Turl Street dating from 1834, and the
unlovely “ modern Gothic ” front on Broad Street
from 1854. Sir Gilbert Scott, who designed the
latter, destroyed the old chapel and replaced it with a
copy of the Sainte Chapelle.
141
 Oxford and its Story

Ten years later another daughter of Merton was

bora. For in 1324 Adam de Brome, Almoner of
Edward II. and Rector of S. Mary’s, obtained the
royal licence to found a college of scholars, Bachelor
Fellows, who should study theology and the Ars
Dialectica. The statutes of this “ Hall of the Blessed
Mary at Oxford,5’ afterwards known as King’s Hall
and Oriel College, were copied almost verbatim from
those of Merton. Tackley’s Inn, on the south side
of High Street (No. 106), and Perilous Hall, on the
north side of Horsemonger, now Broad, Street, were
purchased for the College. But in 1326 it was re¬
founded by the King, endowed with the advowson
and rectory of the Church of S. Mary, and ordered
to be governed by a Provost, chosen by the scholars
from their own number. The first Provost was the
founder, who was also Rector of S. Mary’s, and the
society now established itself in the Rectory House
on the south side of the High Street (St Mary Hall),
at the north end of Schidyard (Oriel) Street. The
college gradually acquired property stretching up to
St John’s (now Merton) Street, and in so doing
became possessed of the tenement at the angle of
Merton and Oriel Street called Senecal Hall, or, for
some uncertain reason, but probably on account of its
possessing one of the architectural features indicated
by that word, La Oriole. It was here, then, that
the society fixed its abode and from this hall it took
its name. The present front quadrangle, resembling
the contemporary front quadrangles of Wadham and
University, and endowed with a peculiar charm by
the weather-stained and crumbling stone, stands on
the site of La Oriole and other tenements. It was
completed in the year of the outbreak of the Civil
War, Regnante Carolo, as the legend on the parapet
between the hall and chapel records, and the statue of
142
3 he Coming of the Friars

Charles I. above it indicates. The Garden Quad¬

rangle was added in the eighteenth century. At length,
in the twentieth century, owing to the munificence of
an old Member of the Foundation, Cecil Rhodes, Oriel
achieved a front upon the High Street. This extension,
designed by Mr Basil Champneys, involved the destruc¬
tion of some highly picturesque old houses. Tt cannot
be said that the High Street has gained by the sub¬
stitution of a rather clumsy and ungainly building.1
The monks and friars have gone their way and the
place of their habitation knows them no more. But
they have left their mark upon Oxford in many ways.
Though their brotherhoods were disbanded by Henry
VIII. and most of their buildings demolished, the
quadrangles and cloisters of many colleges recall
directly the monastic habit, and the college halls the
refectory of a convent. Whilst the College of S.
John dates back from the scholastic needs of the
Cistercians, and the Canterbury Quad and gate at
Christ Church keep alive by their names the recollec¬
tion of the Canterbury college founded by Archbishop
Islip (1363) for the Benedictines of Canterbury, the
old hostels, which were once erected to receive the
Benedictine students from other convents, survive in
those old parts of Worcester which lie on your left as
you approach the famous gardens of that college.
Trinity College occupies the place of Durham, and
Wadham has risen amid the ruins of a foundation of
Augustines, whose disputative powers were kept in
memory in the exercises of the University schools down
to 1800. The monks of S. Frideswide’s Priory, S.
George’s Church, the Abbey of Osney, have all
disappeared with the friaries. But Christ Church is
a magnificent monument to the memory of the abbots
1 An inscription on the facade indicates the date, 1911
.(mdcccllviiiiii) ;—e Larga MVnIfICentIa CeCILII rhoDes.

J43
 Oxford and its Story

and. canons regular whom it has succeeded. The

very conception of an academical college was no
doubt largely drawn from the colleges of the regular

religious Orders, which, unlike those of the Mendi¬

cants, were entirely designed as places of study.
We have seen how the foundation of Merton, and
therefore of Exeter and Oriel, was directly due to the
144
The Coming of the Friars

coming of the friars. And it is to their influence that

yet another great and once beautiful college, beautiful
no longer, but greater now and more famous than ever
by virtue of the services in politics and letters of its
successful alumni, owes its origin. For it was under
the guidance of a Franciscan friar, one Richard de
Slikeburne, that the widow of Sir John de Balliol
carried out her husband’s intention of placing upon
a thoroughly organised footing his house for poor
scholars.
He, the Lord of Barnard Castle, father of the
illustrious rival of the Bruce, having about the year
1260 “unjustly vexed and enormously damnified”
the Church of Tynemouth and the Church of Durham,
was compelled by the militant bishop whose hard task
it was to keep peace on the Border, to do penance.
He knelt, in expiation of his crime, at the door of
Durham Abbey, and was there publicly scourged by
the bishop. He also undertook to provide a perpetual
maintenance for certain poor scholars in the University.
Balliol’s original scheme of benefaction had little in
common with the peculiarly English college-system
inaugurated by Walter de Merton. It was drawn up
on the lines of the earlier foundations of Paris.
For the Hall of Balliol was originally a college for
Artists only, who lost their places when they took a
degree in x4rts. Their scholarships meanwhile supplied
them only with food and lodging of a moderate quality.
But these youthful students, according to the democratic
principles on which the halls were carried on, made
their own statutes and customs, and it was in accord¬
ance with this code that the Principal was required to
govern them.
Balliol’s scholars were established in Oxford by
June 1266, and were at first supported by an annual
allowance from him. He granted them a commons
K 145
 Oxford and its Story

of eightpence a week. The hostel in which he

lodged them was a house he hired in Horsemonger
btreet (Broad Street), facing the moat and city wall.
But before he had made any provision for the permanent
endowment of his scholars Balliol died. A close con¬
nection had apparently front the first been established
between the hall and the Franciscans. One of the
agents by whom Balliol’s dole had been distributed
was a Franciscan friar. Now, under the guidance
“dproteWy at the 'negation of the friar Richard
of bhkeburne, whom she appointed her attorney in
the business. Lady Dervorguilla of Galloway/the
widow of John of Balliol, set herself to secure 'the
welfare of her husband’s scholars. Since his death the
very existence of the newly formed society had been
m jeopardy. The Lady Dervorguilla then addressed
a letter to the procurators or agents of Balliol’s dole
instructing them to put in force a code of statutes
which was no doubt in great part merely a forma!
Matement of customs already established at the Old
Balhol Hall. She next fitted up the north aisle of
the parish church (S. Mary Magdalen) for the use of ,
her scholars; she endowed them with lands in
Northumberland, and purchased for their dwelling-
place three tenements east of Old Balliol Hall. These
tenements, which were south-west of the present front
quadrang e, and faced the street, were soon known as
New Balhol Hall or Mary Hall. The whole of the
site of the front quadrangle was acquired by the Society
as early as 1310. 3
A few years later (1327) the scholars built them-
selves a chapel, part of which, said to be preserved in
the dining-room of the Master’s House, forms an
interesting link between the original scholars of Balliol
and the modern Society which is connected with the
rame of Dr Jowett. The statutes, which had been
146
Ihe Coming of the Friars

much tinkered by subsequent benefactors and bishops,

were finally revised by Bishop Fox, the enlightened
and broad-minded founder of C.C.C.
Fox gave Balliol a constitution, not altogether in
harmony with his own ideals as expressed in the
statutes of Corpus, but such as he thought best fitted
to fulfil the intentions of the founders. He divided
the Society into two halves :—ten juniors, Scholastic!,
and ten Fellows, Socit, each of whom had a definite
duty. In their hands the whole government of the
College was placed.
According to the new regulations the scholars or
servitors of Balliol were to occupy a position humbler
than that of the younger students at any other College.
They were to wait upon the Master and the graduate
Fellows and to be fed with the crumbs that should fall
from the table of their superiors. They were to be
nominated by the Fellow whom they were to serve, to
be from eighteen to twenty-two years of age, and if
they proved themselves industrious and well-behaved
they were to be eligible to Fellowships even though
they had not taken the degree of B.A. Commoners,
as in most other Colleges, were to be allowed to lodge
within the walls of the College, and to take their meals
with the members of the Society.
The Fellowships, which entitled the holder to a
“ commons ” of is. 8d. a week, were thrown open to
competition, candidates being required, however, to be
Bachelors of Arts, of legitimate birth, good character,
proficient in their studies, and in need of assistance, for
any cure of souls, or a private income of more than 40s.
a year, was accounted a reason for disqualification.
Fox had a weakness for metaphors. In the statutes
of Corpus he “ spoke horticulturally ; his metaphor was
drawn from bees.” On the present occasion he uses
a' metaphor as elaborate and appropriate. The College
147
 Oxford and its Story

is described as a human body. The Master was the

head, endued with the five senses of seeing clearly,
hearing discreetly, smelling sagaciously, tasting
moderately, and touching fitly; the senior Fellow was
the neck; the Deans were the shoulders ; the two
priests the sides ; the Bursars the arms and hands;
the Fellows the stomach ; the scholars the legs; and
the servants the feet, whose function it is to go
whithersoever they are bidden. Just as the body
when sick would require a physician, so it was said
would the College sometimes require a visitor. The
Masters and Fellows were given the unusual privilege
of choosing their own visitor.
In the- fifteenth century the whole quadrangle was
rebuilt; the Old Hall, the Old Library,1 the Master’s
House, and the block of buildings and gateway facing
Broad Street being then erected. Of these the shell
of the Master’s House, the Old Hall, now converted
into an undergraduates’ library, and the Old Library,
much defaced by Wyatt, survive. The east wall of
the library was used to form the west end of the
chapel, which was built in 1529 to replace the old,
oratory. The sixteenth century chapel was removed
and the present building erected as a memorial to Dr
Jenkins, under whom Balliol had begun to develop
into a College of almost national importance. Mr
Butterfield, the architect who had done his best to

1 The Library contains many MSS. of Robert Browning

together with the “ small quarto ” on which the poet based
“The Ring and the Book.” He was an honorary fellow of
the College which he enriched by these bequests.
West of the Master’s lodgings, and facing Broad Street,
Fisher’s Buildings were erected in 1769, at the expense of a
fellow of that name. They are in the Italian style, and are
furnished with a Ghost. Other buildings, to the North of
these, and facing the Martyrs’ Memorial, were added in
1825 and 1855.
148
't/he ^/brch^^
J lory - Ike- * yir£i nf
The Coming of the Friars'

ruin Merton, and who perpetrated Keble, was entrusted

with this unfortunate method of perpetuating the worthy
Master’s memory. Mr Waterhouse is responsible for
the present front of the College, the east side of the
first quadrangle, the north side of the-Garden Quad¬
rangle and the new Hall therein (1867-1877).
Not content with fighting the University, the
Oxford Friars soon began to fight each other.
Rivalries sprang up between the Orders; enormous
scandals of discord, as Matthew Paris phrases it.
Jealousy found its natural vent in politics as in the
schools. Politically, the Oxford Franciscans sup¬
ported Simon de Montfort; the Dominicans sided
with the King. The Mad Parliament met in the
Convent of the Black Friars. In philosophy the
Franciscans attacked the doctrine of the Dominican,
S. Thomas Aquinas, who had made an elaborate
attempt to show that natural and revealed truth were
complementary the one of the other. In order to
establish this thesis and to reconcile human philosophy
and the Christian faith, the Angelic Doctor, for so he
was commonly termed, had written an encyclopedia
of philosophy and theology, in which he advanced
arguments on both sides of every question and decided
judicially on each in strict accordance with the tenets
of the Church.
The light of this cc sparkling jewel of the clergy,
this very clear mirror of the University of Paris, this
noble and illuminating candlestick,” was somewhat
dimmed, however, when the great Franciscan hero,
the a subtle doctor,” Duns Scotus, took up the
argument, and clearly proved that the reasoning of this
champion of orthodoxy was itself unorthodox. The
world of letters was divided for generations into the
rival camps of Scotists and Thomists. But the two
doctors have fared very differently at the hands of
' 149
 Oxford and its Story

posterity. Thomas was made a Saint, judged to be

a “ candlestick,” and awarded by Dante a place high
in the realms of Paradise. Duns Scotus, on the other
hand, whose learning and industry were as great and
his merit probably not much inferior, survives chiefly
in the English language as a “ dunce.” The name of
the great Oxford scholar stands to the world chiefly
as a synonym for a fool and a blockhead. For when
the Humanists, and afterwards the Reformers, attacked
his system as a farrago of needless entities and useless
distinctions, the Duns men, or Dunses, on their side
railed against the new learning. The name of
Dunce, therefore, already synonymous with cavilling
sophist or hair-splitter, soon passed into the sense of
dull, obstinate person, impervious to the new learning,
and of blockhead, incapable of learning or scholarship.
Such is the justice of history.
Duns Scotus had carried the day and the Church
rallied to the side of the Franciscans. But such a
successful attack involved the Orders in extreme bitter¬
ness. The Dominicans retorted that these Franciscans,
who claimed and received such credit throughout
Europe for humility and Christlike poverty, were
really accumulating wealth by alms or bequests. The
charge was true enough.
The pride and luxury of the Friars, their splendid
buildings, their laxity in the Confessional, their arti¬
fices for securing proselytes, their continual strife with
the University and their endeavours to obtain peculiar
privileges therein had long undermined their popularity.
They were regarded as u locusts ” who had settled on
the land and stripped the trees of learning and of life.
Duns Scotus held almost undisputed sway for a
while. His works on logic, theology and philosophy
were text-books in the University. But presently
there arose a new light, a pupil of his own, to
The Coming of the Friars

supplant him. William of Ockham, the “ singular ”

or “ invincible ” doctor, revived the doctrine of.
Nominalism. At once the glory and reproach of his
Order, he used the weapons of Scholasticism to
destroy it. But if in Philosophy the “ invincible
doctor ” was a sceptic, in Theology he was a fanatical
supporter of the extreme Franciscan view that the
ministers of Christ were bound to follow the example
of their Master, and to impose upon themselves
absolute poverty. It was a view which found no
favour with popes or councils. But undeterred by the
thunders of the Church, Ockham did not shrink
from thus attacking the foundations of the papal
supremacy or from asserting the rights of the civil power.
Paris had been, as we have seen, the first home of
Scholasticism, but with the beginning of the fourteenth
century, Oxford had taken its place as the centre of
intellectual activity in Europe. The most important
schoolmen of the age were all Oxonians, and nearly
all the later schoolmen of note were Englishmen or
Germans educated in the traditions of the English
“ nation ” at Paris. And when the old battle between
Nominalism and Realism was renewed, it was fought
with more unphilosophical virulence than before. “ It
was at this time that Philosophy literally descended
from the schools into the street, and that the odium
metaphysicum gave fresh zest to the unending faction
fight between north and south at Oxford, between
Czech and German at Prague” (Rashdall).
Yet this was not without good results. For
Scholasticism began now to come in contact with
practical life. The disputants were led on to deal
with the burning questions of the day, the questions,
that is, as to the foundations of property, the respective
rights of king and pope, of king and subject, of priest
and people.
*5*
 Oxford and its Story

The day was at hand when the trend of political

events, stimulated by the influence of the daring
philosophical speculations of the Oxford schoolmen,
was to issue in a crisis. The crisis was a conflict
between the claims of papal supremacy and the rights
of the civil power, and for this crisis Oxford produced
the man—John WyclifFe.
Born on the banks of the Tees, he, the last of the
great schoolmen, was educated at Balliol, where he
probably resided till he was elected master of that
College in 1356. In 1361 he accepted a College
living and left Oxford for a while, but was back again
in 1363, and resided in Queen’s College. He com¬
bined his residence there and his studies for a degree
in theology with the holding of a living at Ludgershall
in Bucks. Some suppose that he was then appointed
Warden of Canterbury Hall,1 but this supposition is
probably incorrect. At any rate he was already a
person of importance, not only at Oxford, but at the
Court.
When Parliament decided to repudiate the annual
tribute to the Pope which John had undertaken to
pay, WyclifFe officially defended this repudiation.
He continued to study at Oxford, developing his
views. That he was in high favour at Court is
shown by the fact that he was nominated (1374) by
the Crown to the Rectory of Lutterworth, and ap¬
pointed one of the Royal Commissioners to confer

1 Founded in 1361 by Simon lslip, Archbishop of Canter¬

bury, to be a nursery for “ that famous College of Christ
Church in Canterbury.” The Doric Gateway—Canterbury
Gate—which leads from Merton Street into the Canterbury
Quad, of Christ Church, in which Mr Gladstone once had
rooms, recalls the name of this Benedictine foundation. The
old buildings were removed in 1770; the present gateway
was designed by Wyatt, chiefly at the expense of Dr
Robinson, Archbishop of Armagh.
T52
The Coming of the Friars

with the papal representatives at Bruges. But he

continued lecturing at, Oxford and preaching in
London.
Politically he threw in his lot with the Lancastrian
party. For he had been led in the footsteps of his
Italian and English predecessors, Marsiglio and
Ockham, to proclaim that the Church suffered by
being involved in secular affairs, and that endowments
were a hindrance to the proper spiritual purpose of the
Church. So it came about that the u Flower of
Oxford,” as he was called, the priest who desired to
reform the clergy, found himself in alliance with John
of Gaunt, the worldly statesman, who merely desired
to rob them. He soon found himself in need of the
Duke’s protection. The wealthy and worldly church¬
men of the day were not likely to listen tamely to his
lectures. He was summoned before Bishop Courtenay
of London to answer charges of erroneous teaching
concerning the wealth of the Church (1377)*_ ^e
Duke of Lancaster accepted the challenge as given to
himself. He stood by Wycliffe in the Consistory
Court at S. Paul’s, and a rude brawl between his
supporters and those of Courtenay, in which the Duke
himself is said to have threatened to drag the Bishop
out of the church by the hair of his head, put an end
to the trial. Papal bulls were now promulgated
against Wycliffe. , The University was directed to
condemn and arrest him, if he were found guilty
of maintaining certain 66 conclusions ” extracted from
his writings. The Oxford masters, however, were
annoyed at the attack made upon a distinguished
member of their body, and they resented, as a threatened
infringement of their privileges, the order of the Arch¬
bishop and Bishop of London, which commanded the
Oxford divines to hold an enquiry and to send
Wycliffe to London to be heard in person. What
 Oxford and its Story

they did, therefore, was simply to enjoin Wycliffe

to remain within the walls of Black Hall, whilst
they, after considering his opinions, declared them
orthodox, but liable to misinterpretation. But
Wycliffe could not disobey the Archbishop’s summons
to appear at Lambeth. There he proved the value of
a Schoolman’s training. The subtlety of u the most
learned clerk of his time ” reduced his opponents to
silence.
The prelates were at a loss how to proceed. They
were relieved from their dilemma by the arrival of a
Knight from the Court, who brought a peremptory
message from the Princess of Wales, mother of
Richard II., forbidding them to issue any decree
against Wycliffe.
The session was dissolved by an invasion of the
London crowd. Wycliffe escaped scot-free. Then
followed the scandal of the Great Schism, when two,
or even three, candidates each claimed to be the one
and only Vicar of Christ.
It is the Great Schism which would appear to have
converted Wycliffe into a declared opponent of the
papacy. Pondering on the problems of Church and
State which had hitherto occupied his energies, he was
now forced to the conclusion that the papal, and there¬
fore the sacerdotal power in general must be assailed.
It was a logical deduction from his central thesis, the
doctrine of “ dominion founded on grace.” He organ¬
ised a band of preachers who should instruct the laity in
the mother tongue and supply them with a Bible trans¬
lated into English. Thus under his auspices Oxford
became the centre of a widespread religious movement.
There the poor or simple priests, as they were called,
had a common abode, whence, barefooted and clad in
russet or grey gowns which reached to their ankles,
they went forth to propagate his doctrines. And since
154
The Coming of the Friars

the Friars, who owed their independence of the bishops

and clergy to the privilege conferred upon them by the
popes, were strong supporters of the papal autocracy,
Wycliffe attacked them, by his own eloquence and
that of his preachers, and that at a time when their
luxurious and degenerate lives laid them open to popular
resentment.
Already (1356) Richard Fitzralph, Archbishop of
Armagh, who like Wycliffe had been a scholar of
Balliol and in 1333 had held the office of Vice-
Chancellor, had attacked the Friars for their encroach¬
ments upon the domain of the parish priests; their
power, their wealth, their mendicancy, he maintained,
were all contrary to the example and preempts of Christ
and therefore of their founder. He charged them also
with encroaching upon the rights of parents by making
use of the confessional to induce children to enter their
convents and become Friars. This was the reason,
he asserted, why the University had fallen to one-fifth
of its former numbers, for parents were unwilling to
send their sons thither and preferred to bring them up
as farmers.
This attack furnished Wycliffe with a model for his
onslaught. In his earlier days he had treated the
Friars with respect and even as allies—“ a Franciscan 39
he had said, “is very near to God5’—for then he had
been attacking the endowments of the Church, and it
was the monks or “ possessioners ” and the rich secular
clergy to whom he was opposed. In theory the
Mendicant Orders were opposed to these by their
poverty and in practice by their interests.
But the Friars were the close allies and chief de¬
fenders of the Pope. Now, therefore, when Wycliffe
passed from political to doctrinal reform, his attitude
towards the Mendicant Orders becomes one of
uncompromising hostility. He and his followers
155
 Oxford arid its Story

denounced them with all the vehemence of religious

partisanship and all the vigour of the vernacular.
Iscariot’s children, they called them, and irregular
Procurators of the Fiend, adversaries of Christ and
Disciples of Satan. Wycliffe indeed went so far as to
attribute an outbreak of disease in Oxford to the idle¬
ness and intellectual stagnation of the Friars.

“ Being inordinately idle and commonly gathered together

in towns they cause a whole sublunary unseasonableness.”

Finally, Wycliffe aimed at undermining the power

of the priesthood by challenging the doctrine of
Transubstantiation. According to this doctrine the
priest had the power of working a daily miracle by
“ making the body of Christ.” Wycliffe, in the
summer of 1384 first publicly denied that the elements
of the sacrament underwent any material change by
virtue of the words uttered by the priest. The real
presence of the body and blood of Christ he main¬
tained, but that there was any change of substance he
denied.
The heresy was promulgated at Oxford. An
enquiry was immediately held by the Chancellor
(William Berton) and twelve doctors, half of them
Friars, and the new (i pestiferous ” doctrines were
condemned. The condemnation and injunction for¬
bidding any man in future to teach or defend them in
the University was announced to Wycliffe ^as he was
sitting in the Augustinian Schools, disputing the subject.
He was taken aback, but at once challenged chancellor
or doctor to disprove his conclusions. The u per¬
tinacious heretic,” in fact, continued to maintain his
thesis, and made a direct appeal, not to the Pope, but to
the King. The University rallied to his side and tacitly
supported his cause by replacing Berton with Robert
Rygge in the office of Vice-Chancellor. Rygge was
156
The Coming of the Friars

more than a little inclined to be a Wycliffite. And

WyclifFe meanwhile appealed also to the people by
means of those innumerable tracts in the English
tongue, which make the last of the schoolmen the first
of the English pamphleteers. Whilst he was thus
entering on his most serious encounter with the Church,
suddenly there broke out the Peasant Revolt. The
insurrection blazed forth suddenly, furiously, simul¬
taneously and died away, having spent its force in a
fortnight. It was a sporadic revolt with no unity of
purpose or action except to express the general social
discontent. But the upper classes were seriously
frightened and some of the odium was reflected on the
subversive doctrines of WyclifFe, whose Lollard
preachers had doubtless dabbled not a little in the
socialism which honey-combed the Middle Ages.
When order was again restored, Courtenay, now
become Archbishop, began to take active measures to
repress the opinions of WyclifFe. He summoned a
synod at the Blackfriars in London to examine them.
The first session was interrupted by an earthquake,
which was difFerently interpreted as a sign of the divine
approval or anger. The Earthquake Council had no
choice but to condemn such doctrines as those they
were asked to consider, that God ought to obey the
devil, for instance, or that no one ought to be recognised
as Pope after Urban VI.
When these doctrines were condemned, WyclifFe
does not appear to have been present, nor was any
action at all taken against him personally. It is sup¬
posed that his popularity at Oxford rendered him too
formidable a person to attack. He was left at peace
and the storm fell upon his disciples. The attack was
made on “certain children of perdition/5 who had
publicly taught the condemned doctrines, and “who
went about the country preaching to the people, without
*57
 Oxjord and its Story

proper authority.55 All such preachers were to be

visited with the greater excommunication.
As Oxford, however, was the centre of the move¬
ment a separate mandate was sent thither. The Arch¬
bishop sent down a commissary, Peter Stokes, a Carmelite
friar, to Oxford, to prohibit the teaching of incorrect
doctrines, but avoiding any mention of the teacher’s
name. The University authorities were by no means
pleased at this invasion, so they held it, of their ancient
privileges. The Chancellor Rygge had just appointed
Nicholas Hereford, a devoted follower of WyclifFe,
to preach before the University; he now appointed a
no less loyal follower, Philip Repyngdon to the same
office. His sermon was an outspoken defence of
the Lollards. Stokes reported that he dared not
publish the Archbishop’s mandate, that he went
about in the fear of his life; for scholars with arms
concealed beneath their gowns accompanied the
preachers and it appeared that not the Chancellor
only, but both the Proctors were Wycliffites, or at
least preferred to support the Wycliffites to abating
one jot of what they considered the privileges of the
University. And for once the Mayor was of the
same opinion as the rulers of the University. Still,
when the Chancellor was summoned before the
Archbishop in London, he did not venture to disobey,
and promptly cleared himself of any suspicion of
heresy. The council met again at the Blackfriars,
and Rygge submissively took his seat in it. On
his bended knees he apologised for his disobedience
to the Archbishop’s orders, and only obtained pardon
through the influence of William of Wykeham. Short
work was made of the Oxford Wycliffites; they
were generally, and four of them by name, suspended
from all academical functions. Rygge returned to
Oxford, with a letter from Courtenay which repeated
I5S
The Coming of the Friars

the condemnation of the four preachers, adding to

their names the name of Wycliffe himself. The
latter was likened by the Archbishop to a serpent
which emits noxious poison. But the Chancellor
protested he dared not execute this mandate, and a
royal warrant had to be issued to compel him. Mean¬
while he showed his real feeling in the matter by
suspending a prominent opponent of the Wycliffftes
who had called them by the offensive name of
Lollards (“idle babblers”). But the council in
London went on to overpower the party by stronger
measures.1 Wycliffe had apparently retired before
the storm burst upon Oxford. John of Gaunt was
appealed to by the preachers named. But the great
Duke of Lancaster had no desire to incur the charge
of encouraging heresy. He pronounced the opinions
of Hereford and Repyngdon on the nature of the
eucharist utterly detestable. The last hope of
Lollardism was "gone. Wycliffe himself retired un¬
molested to Lutterworth, where he died and was
buried. “Admirable” says Fuller “that a hare
so often hunted with so many packs of dogs should
die at last quietly sitting in his form.5 Jus^ as
owed his influence as a Reformer to the skill and
fame as a schoolman which he had acquired at Oxford,
so now his immunity was due to his reputation as the
greatest scholastic doctor in the “second school of
the Church.” , „ .
The statute “ De haeretico comburendo aid its
work quickly in stamping out Lollardy in the country.
The tares were weeded out. In Oxford alone the
tradition of Wycliffe died hard. A remarkable
testimonial was issued in October T406 by the
Chancellor and Masters, sealed with the University
seal. Some have thought it a forgery, and at the
1 <« Wycliffe, and movements for Reform.” Poole.
T59
 Oxford and its Story

best it probably only represented, as Maxwell Lyte

suggests, the verdict of a minority of the Masters
snatched in the Long Vacation. But it is in any
case of considerable significance. It extols the
character of John WyclifFe, and his exemplary per¬
formances as a son of the University; it extols his
truly Catholic zeal against all who blasphemed Christ’s
religion by voluntary begging, and asserts that he
was neither convicted of heretical pravity during his
life, nor exhumed and burned after death. He had
no equal, it maintains, in the University as a writer
on logic, philosophy, theology or ethics.
Here then, Archbishop Arundel (1407) an Oriel
man, who with his father had built for that College
her first chapel, found it necessary to take strong steps.
He held a provincial council at Oxford and ordered
that all books written in WyclifFe’s time should pass
through the censorship, first of the University of
Oxford or Cambridge, and secondly of the Arch¬
bishop himself, before they might be used in the
schools. The establishment of such a censorship was
equivalent to a fatal muzzling of genius. If it silenced
the Wycliffite teaching, it silenced also the enunciation
of any original opinion of truth. Two years later
Arundel risked a serious quarrel with the U niversity
in order to secure the appointment of a committee to
make a list of heresies and errors to be found in
WyclifFe’s writings. He announced his intention of
holding a visitation of the University with that object.
He met with violent opposition. The opponents of
the Archbishop were not all enthusiastic supporters of
WyclifFe’s views. Not all masters and scholars were
moved by pure zeal either for freedom of speculation
or for evangelical truth. The local patriotism of the
north countryman reinforced the religious zeal of the
Lollard. The chronic antipathy of the secular
t6o '■
The Comitig of the Friars

scholars to the friars, of the realists to the nominalists,

of the artists to the higher faculties, and the academic
pride of the loyal Oxonians—these were all motives
which fought for WyclifFe and his doctrines. Least
tangible but not least powerful among them was the
last, for when civil or ecclesiastical authority en¬
deavoured to assert itself over corporate privileges in
the Middle Ages, a very hornet’s nest of local
patriotism and personal resentment was quickly
roused.
The Oxford masters were impatient of all inter¬
ference ecclesiastical as well as civil. They had
thrown off the yoke of the Bishop of Lincoln and
the Archdeacon of Oxford. And, with a view to
asserting their independence of the Primate, they had
succeeded in obtaining a bull from Boniface IX. in
which he specifically confirmed the sole jurisdiction
of the Chancellor over all members of the University
whatever, Priests and Monks and Friars included.
The University, however, was compelled to renounce
the bull, and to submit to the visitation of the Arch¬
bishop. But the submission was not made without
much disturbance and bitterness of feeling. The
Lollards, the younger scholars and the northerners,
with their lawless allies the Irish, were in favour of
active resistance.
The behaviour of three Fellows of Oriel will show
how the University was divided against itself. These
men, so runs the complaint against them, “ are notorious
fomenters of discord.”
“They lead a band of ruffians by night, who beat, wound,
and spoil men and cause murder. They haunt taverns day
and night, and do not enter college before ten or eleven
or twelve o’clock, and even scale the walls to the dis¬
turbance of quiet students, and bring in armed strangers
to spend the night. Thomas Wilton came in over the wail
at ten and knocked at the Provost’s chamber, and woke up
T 161
 Oxford and its Story

and abused him as a liar, and challenged him to get up and

come out to fight him. Against the Provost’s express
orders, on the vigil of S. Peter, these three had gone out
of college, broken the Chancellor’s door and killed a student
of law. The Chancellor could neither sleep in his house by
night nor walk in the High Street by day for fear of these
men.”
The arrival of the Archbishop at Oxford, then, to
hold a visitation at S. Mary’s, was a signal for an
outbreak. S. Mary’s was barricaded and a band of
scholars armed with bows, swords and bucklers awaited
the Primate. Notwithstanding the interdict laid on
the Church, John Birch of Oriel, one of the Proctors,
took the keys, opened the doors, had the bell rung
as usual, and even celebrated High Mass there.
S. Mary’s, it will be remembered, belonged to Oriel.
Hence, perhaps, the active resistance of these Oriel
Fellows and of the Dean of Oriel, John Rote, who
asked “ why should we be punished by an interdict
on our church for other people’s faults ? ” And he
elegantly added, “ The Devil go with the Archbishop
and break his neck.” The controversy was at last
referred to the king. The Chancellors and Proctors
resigned their office. The younger students who had
opposed the Archbishop were soundly whipped, much
to the delight of Henry IV. The bull of exemption
was declared invalid; the University acknowledged
itself subject to the See of Canterbury, thanks to
the mediation of the Prince of Wales, mad - cap
Harry, and the Archbishop Arundel made a
handsome present of books to the public library of
Oxford.
The committee desired by Arundel was eventually
constituted. Two hundred and sixty-seven proposi¬
tions were condemned and the obnoxious books
solemnly burnt at Carfax. Not long after, a copy
of the list of condemned articles was ordered to be
162
The Coming of the Friars

preserved in the public libraries, and oaths against

their maintenance were enjoined upon all members of
the University on graduation.
The methods of the Archbishop met with the
success which usually attends a well-conducted perse-
cution. History notices the few martyrs who from
time to time have laid down their lives for their
principles, but it often fails to notice the millions of
men who have discarded their principles rather than
lay down their lives.
So the Wycliffite heresy was at length dead and
buried. But the ecclesiastical repression which succeeded
in bringing this about succeeded also in destroying all
vigour and life in the thought of the University.
Henceforth the Schoolmen refrained from touching on
the practical questions of their day. They struck out
no new paths of thought, but revolved on curves of
subtle and profitless speculation, reproducing and ex-
aggerating in their logical hair-splitting all the faults with¬
out any of the intellectual virtues of the great thinkers of
the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. It was against
these degenerate dullards that the human mind at last
rebelled, when intellect was born again in the New
Birth of letters. What wonder then if, suddenly
freed from the dead weight of their demoralising
stupidities, men broke out m the exuberance of their
spirits into childish excesses, confused the master with
his foolish and depressing pupils, strewed the quadrangle
of New College with the leaves of Dunce, and put
them to the least noble of uses, as though they had
been the Chronicles of Volusius.
The Archbishop’s right of Visitation was confirmed
in Parliament and with it the suppression of Lollardy,
of free speech and thought, in the schools and pulpits
of Oxford. The issue of the struggle practically
closes the history of Lollardism as a recognised force
163
 Oxford and its Story

in English politics, and with it the intellectual history

of mediaeval Oxford.
Up to that time the University had shown itself
decidedly eager for reform, and for a few years the
same spirit survived. Oxford had consistently
advocated the summoning of a General Council to
settle the claims of the rival popes and to put an end
to the schism which was the scandal of Christendom.
But for fifteen years such pacific designs were eluded
by the arts of the ambitious pontiffs, and the scruples
or passions of their adherents. At length the Council
of Pisa deposed, with equal justice, the Popes of Rome
and Avignon. In their stead, as they intended, but
in addition to them as events were to prove, the
conclave, at which the representatives of Oxford and
Cambridge were present, unanimously elected Peter
Philargi. This Franciscan friar from Crete, who had
taken his degree of Bachelor of Theology at Oxford,
assumed the title of Alexander V., and remains the
only wearer of the tiara who has graduated at Oxford
or Cambridge. He was shortly afterwards succeeded
by John XXIII., the most profligate of mankind. It
remained for the Council of Constance to correct the
rash proceedings of Pisa, and to substitute one head of
the Church in place of the three rival Popes (1414).
But before the opening of this Council the University
of Oxford had drawn up and presented to the King a
document of a very remarkable character. It consisted
of forty-six articles for the reformation of the Church.
The Oxford masters suggested that the three rival
Popes should all resign their claims ; they complained
of the simoniacal and extortionate proceedings of the
Roman Court, and of the appointment of foreigners to
benefices in England; they accused the Archbishops
of encroaching on the rights of their suffragans, and
charged the whole Order of prelates with nepotism
164
The Coming of the Friars

and avarice. Abbots, they contended, should not be

allowed to wear mitres and sandals as if they were
bishops, and monks should not be exempt from ordinary
episcopal jurisdiction. Friars should be restrained
from granting absolution on easy terms, from stealing
children, and from begging for alms in the house of
God. Secular canons should be made to abandon
their luxurious style of living, and masters of hospitals
to pay more regard to the wants of the poor. Parish
priests, who neglected the flocks committed to their
care, are described as ravening wolves. The Masters
also complained of the non-observance of Sabbath and
of the iniquitous system of Indulgences.
Shades of the founder of Lincoln College, what a
document is this ! It is Wycliflism alive, rampant
and unashamed. Not perhaps altogether unashamed
or at least not indiscreet, for the Masters go out of
their way to call tor active measures against the
Lollards. But the whole of this manifesto is a cry
from Oxford, in 1414, for reformation; it is a direct
echo of the teaching and declamation of WyclifFe, and
an appeal for reformation as deliberate and less veiled
than “the vision of William Langland concerning
Piers Plowman,” that sad, serious satirist of those
times, who, in his contemplation of the corruption he
saw around him in the nobility, the Government, the
Church and .the Friars, “all the wealth of the world
and the woe too,” saw no hope at all save in a new
order of things.
Oxford’s zeal for reformation at this time was made
very clear also by her representatives at Constance,
where a former Chancellor, Robert Halam, Bishop of
Salisbury, and Henry Abingdon, a future Warden of
Merton, very greatly distinguished themselves. Yet it
was by a decree of this very Council of Constance
(X4I5) that the remains of WyclifFe were ordered to
165
 Oxford and its Story

be taken up and cast out far from those of any orthodox

Christian. This order was not executed till twelve
years later, when Bishop Fleming, having received
direct instructions from the Pope, saw to it.
WyclifFe’s remains were dug up, burnt and cast into
the Swift, but, as it has been said, the Swift bore
them to the Avon, the Avon to the Severn, and the
Severn to the sea to be dispersed unto all lands: which
things are an allegory. For though in England the
repression of his teaching deferred the reformation,
which theologically as well as politically WyclifFe had
begun, for more than a hundred years, yet abroad, in
Bohemia,, the movement which he had commenced
grew into a genuine national force, destined to react
upon the world.
Bishop Fleming, who had been proctor in 1407,
seems to have thought that the snake was scotched but
not killed. For though he had been a sympathiser
with the Lollards in his youth, in his old age he
thought it worth while to found a a little college of
theologians,” who should defend the mysteries of the
sacred page “ against these ignorant laics, who profaned
with swinish snout its most holy pearls.”1 The
students in this stronghold of orthodox divinity were
to proceed to the degree of B.D. within a stated
period; they must swear not to favour the pestilent
sect of Wycliffites, and if they persisted in heresy
were to be cast out of the College aas diseased sheep.”
It was in 1427 that Fleming obtained a charter per¬
mitting him to unite the three parish churches of All
Saints’, S. Michael’s and S. Mildred’s into a collegiate
church, and there to establish a u collegiolum,” con¬
sisting of a rector and seven students of Theology,
endowed with the revenue of those churches. No
sooner had he appointed the first rector, purchased a
site and begun to erect the buildings just south of the
1 Lincoln College,
x.66
The Coining of the Friars

tower, than he died. The energy of the second

rector, however, Dr John Beke, secured the firmer
foundation of the College. He completed the pur¬
chase of the original site, which is represented by the
front quadrangle and about half the grove; and
thereon John Forest, Dean of Wells, completed
(1437) the buildings as Fleming had planned them,
including a chapel and library, hall and kitchen, and
rooms. Modern Lincoln is bounded by Brasenose
College and Brasenose Lane, the High Street and the
Turl,1 the additional property between All Saints
Church and the front quadrangle having been bestowed
upon the College during the period 1435-1700.
John Williams, Bishop of Lincoln, gave the Co lege
a new Chapel and completed the new quadrangle in
1621. The notable feature of this Chapel is the
carving of the screen, panels and pews, and the beauti¬
ful glass, Flemish in character, wherein the Bible story
is told in a style equally remarkable for arrangement and
perspective. In 1829 the front of the College was
much spoiled by the addition of sham battlements, a
desperate and deplorable endeavour to convert the
delightful Gothic of the old building into a pseudo-
Baronial style. Of Forest’s buildings the kitchen
■ alone remains untouched, and a very charming fragment
of the old structure it is. The Hall has been happily
restored of late years by Mr T. G. Jackson by whom
also the present Grove Buildings were designed (18bo).
The old Chapel and Library were converted to
other uses and spoiled in the eighteenth century.
The Rector’s Lodgings at the South end ot the
Hall were begun in 1464, by the executors of Bishop
Beckington, whose rebus, a flaming Beacon m a
tun, can still be seen on a buttress m the Grove.
1 Called after the “famous postern gate” (Twirl gate),
pulled down in 1722.
 Oxford and its Story

The new Library (1907), a charming study in

simplicity, is by Messrs Reid and Macdonald.
The foundation of Lincoln was remodelled and
developed by Thomas Rotherham, Chancellor of
Cambridge, and afterwards Archbishop of York.

His benefactions to the cause of learning were munifi¬

cent and unceasing, and, so far as Lincoln is concerned,
he may fairly be called the College's second founder.
The origin of his interest in the College arose from
a picturesque incident. When he visited the College
as bishop of the diocese in 1474, the rector, John
168
The Coming of the Friars

Tristrope, urged its claims in the course of a sermon.

He took for his text the words from the psalm,
“ Behold and visit this vine, and the vineyard which
thy right hand hath planted/’ and he earnestly ex¬
horted the bishop to complete the work begun by his
predecessor. For the College was poor, and what
property it had was at this time threatened. So
powerful and convincing was his appeal that, at the
end of the sermon, the bishop stood up and announced
that he would grant the request. He was as good as
his word. He gave the College a new charter and
new statutes (1480)—a code which served it till the
Commission of 1854 ; he increased its revenues and
completed the quadrangle on the south side. There
is a vine which still grows in Lincoln, on the north
side of the chapel quadrangle, and this is the successor
of a vine which was either planted alongside the hall
in allusion to the successful text, or, being already
there, suggested it.

169
 CHAPTER V

The Medieval Student

is A clerk ther was of Oxen ford also,
That unto logik hadde longe ygo . . ,
For him was lever have at his beddes heed
Twenty bokes, clad in blak or reed,
Of Aristotle and his philosophye,
Than robes riche, or fithele or gay sautrye.
But al be that he was a philosophre,
Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre;
Of studie took he most cure and most hede,
Noght o word spak he more than was nede,
And that was seyd in forme and reverence,
And short and quik, and ful of hy sentence.
Souninge in moral vertu was his speche,
And gladly wolde he lerne and gladly teche.”

High Street—S. Mary’s Church—The Old Congrega.

tion House *— Mediaeval Libraries — The University
Chests — The Chancellor’s Court — The Mediaeval
Student — The Old Halls — Initiation of Students_
Their poverty—Discipline —Cap and Gown —Com¬
moners (Magdalen College)—Proctors—Northerners
and Southerners—Wild Irishmen—Migration to Stam-
ford—The Brazen Nose Knocker—“ Oxford Scholars
fall to fight”—Migration to Northampton—The Black
Death—The Riot of S. Scholastica’s Day—Charter of
Edward III.—Queen’s College—Lawlessness of Students
leads to the development of the College System_
William of Wykeham and New College_Archbishop
Chichele and All Souls’ College—The Divinity School
—The Duke Humphrey Library—William of Wayne-
flete and Magdalen College—Lambert Simnel—Lady
Margaret and Women’s College—May Morning on
Magdalen Tower.

you drive into Oxford from the railway station,

you pass, as we have seen, monuments which
may recall to mind the leading features of her history
170
The Me diaval Student

and the part which she took in the life of the country.
The Castle Mound takes us back to the time when
Saxon was struggling against Dane; the Castle itself
is the sign manual of the Norman conquerors; the
Cathedral spire marks the site upon which Frideswide
and her “ she-monastics ” built their Saxon church
' upon the virgin banks of the river. Carfax, with
the Church of S. Martin, was the centre of the city s
life and represents the spirit of municipal liberty which
animated her citizens, and the progress of their mum-

C ^The bell which swung in Carfax Tower summoned

the common assembly to discuss and to decide their
own public affairs and to elect their own mayor. And
this town-mote of burghers, freemen within the wads, .
who held their rights as burghers by virtue of their
tenure of ground on which their tenement stood met
in Carfax Churchyard. Justice was administered by
mayor and bailiff sitting beneath the low shed, the
« penniless bench ” 1 of later times, without its eastern
wall. And around the church lay the trade guilds,
ranged as in some vast encampment. . . .
Carfax Church, with all its significance of municipal
life, stands at the top of High Street, the most beauti¬
ful street in the world. Still, y° h
splendid sweep of its curve comparable only to the
Grand Canal of Venice or the bend of Windermere,
and by virtue of the noble grouping of its varied
buildings, the most beautiful street in the woild, 1

i Pennilesse Bench. This was a row of stalls. and seats

Nuremberg will remember the Bratwurstglocklem there.

(it Story of Nuremberg,” p. 19&.)
\ j 17 X
 Oxford and its Story

spite of new buildings of disproportionate size, and the

ludicrous dome of the Shelley Memorial, “a thing
resembling a goose pye,” as Swift wrote of Sir John
Vanbrugh^ house in Whitehall ; in spite of the dis¬
quieting ornamentation of Brasenose new buildings and
the new schools; in spite even of the unspeakably
vulgar and pretentious facade of Lloyd’s Bank, a gross,
advertising abomination of unexampled ugliness and
impertinence, which has done all that was possible to
ruin the first view of this street of streets. Let us
leave k behind us with a shudder and pass down the
High till we find on our left, at what was once the
end of ‘£ Schools Street,55 the lovely twisted columns
of the porch which forms the modern entrance to
S. Mary’s Church.
What Carfax was to the municipal life of Oxford,
S. Mary’s was to the University. It was the centre
of the academical and ecclesiastical life of the place.
And the bell which swung in S. Mary’s tower
summoned the students of the University sometimes
to take part in learned disputations among themselves,
sometimes to fight the citizens of the town.
Here then, between the Churches of S. Martin
and S. Mary, the life of this mediaeval University town
ebbed and flowed. In the narrow, ill-paved, dirty streets,
streets that were mere winding passages, from which
the light of day was almost excluded by the over¬
hanging tops of the irregular houses, crowded a motley
throng. ^ The country folks filled the centre of the
streets with their carts and strings of pack-horses; at
the sides, standing beneath the signs of their calling,
which projected from their houses, citizens in varied
garb plied their trades, chaffering with the manciples,
but always keeping their bow-strings taut, ready to
promote a riot by pelting a scholar with offal from the

172
On the hft Univej/iJy (tj!e|e. On th* right
^lly&njfOi'rch. firapnofa
■ lha\u£in. /Ill/'u!/ ’
The Mediaval Student

butchers’ stall, and prompt to draw their knives at a

moment’s notice. To and fro among the stalls moved
Jews in their yellow gaberdines; black Benedictines
and white Cistercians ; Friars black, white and grey;
men-at-arms from the Castle, and flocks of lads who
had entered some grammar school or religious house
to pass the first stage of the University course. Here
passed a group of ragged, gaunt, yellow-visaged
sophisters, returning peacefully from lectures to their
inns, but with their “ bastards” or daggers, as well as
their leather pouches, at their waists. Here a knot
of students, fantastically attired in many-coloured
garments, whose tonsure was the only sign of their
clerkly character, wearing beards, long hair, furred
cloaks, and shoes chequered with red and green,
paraded the thoroughfare, heated with wine from the
feast of some determining bachelor. Here a line of
servants, carrying the books of scholars or doctors to
the schools, or there a procession of colleagues escort¬
ing to the grave the body of some master, and bearing
before the corpse a silver cross, threaded the throng.
Here hurried a bachelor in his cape, a new master in
his £fi pynsons ” or heelless shoes, a scholar of Exeter
in his black boots, a full-fledged master with his tunic
closely fastened about the middle by a belt and wear¬
ing round his shoulders a black, sleeveless, close gown*
Here gleamed a mantle of crimson cloth, or the
budge-edged hood o£ a doctor of law or of theology.
And in the hubbub of voices which proceeded from
this miscellaneous, parti-coloured mob, might be dis¬
tinguished every accent, every language, and every
dialect.1 For French, German and Spanish students
jostled in these streets against English, Irish, Scottish
and Welsh Kentish students mingled with students

1 Vid. Quarterly Review,Jan.

i7S
 Oxford and its Story

from Somersetshire or Yorkshire, and the speech of

each was quite unintelligible to the other.
S. Mary’s Church was the only formal meeting
place of these students, thus drawn together in the
pursuit of knowledge from various parts of Europe.
It was here that all University business, secular and
religious, was transacted, till the building of the Divinity
school and the Sheldonian theatre allowed the church
to be reserved, for sacred purposes. Then at last it
ceased to be the scene of violent altercations between
Heads of Houses or the stage where the Terrae
Filius of the year should utter his scurrilous
banalities.1
But still every Sunday morning during term the
great bell of S. Mary’s rings out and summons the
University to assemble in formal session there to hear
a sermon. The bedels of the four faculties with their
silver staves lead the way ; and the Vice-chancellor
■is conducted to his throne, the preacher to his pulpit;
the doctors of the several faculties in their rich robes
follow and range themselves on either side of their
official head ; below them the proctors, representatives
of the Masters of Arts, wearing the white hoods of
their office, take their seats. The masters and
bachelors fill the body of the church, the under¬
graduates are crowded into the galleries.
We must not think of S. Mary’s as merely a
meeting-house for University business or as merely
a parish church. For centuries it has been the
centre of Christian Oxford ; where each successive

1 Two M. A/s who w'ue taking part in the final exercise

for their degree were chosen, one by each proctor, to make a
Latin speech, one on the Saturday of the Act, the other on
the Monday. These speeches were supposed to be humorous
and were more often merely exhibitions of scurrilous
buffoonery.
176
The Medieval Student

movement in English theology has been expounded

and discussed. From the old stone pulpit, of which
a fragment is fixed over the southern archway of the
tower, Peter Martyr delivered his testimony, Cole
sent Cranmer to the stake, and Wesley prefaced his
secession from the Church of England; from its
nineteenth century successor, John Keble began the
Oxford movement; Dr Pusey preached a sermon for
which he was suspended, and Newman (vicar 1831)
entered on the path to Rome.
The church is mentioned in Domesday Book, and
the north wall of the Lady Chapel, commonly known
as Adam De Brome’s Chapel because the tomb of the
founder of Oriel is therein, may have been part of the
church as it stood at the time of the Domesday
survey. The tower and the spire date from the early
fourteenth century.
S. Mary’s as we have it now is very much a Tudor
building. When William of Wykeham built New
College Chapel he set a fashion which soon converted
Oxford into a city of pinnacles.1 In the Perpendicular
style pinnacles were erected on Merton tower and
transept, on All Souls’ Chapel, on Magdalen Chapel,
hall and tower ; nearly a hundred pinnacles decorated
the Schools and Library; the nave, aisles and chancel
of S. Mary’s received the same ornaments, and
pinnacles in the same style were added to the clusters
of the fourteenth century tower and spire. These
were not high but observed a true proportion.
It was the grave fault of the excessively lofty
pinnacles (beautiful no doubt in themselves) which
were added in 1848,2 that they destroyed the true

1 See Professor Case’s admirable “ Enquiry concerning

the Pinnacled Steeple of the University Church.”
2 The present ones (1895) are a compromise, and repeat
the fault.
M 177
 Oxford and its Story

beauty of proportion and the effect of gradual transi¬

tion which the fourteenth century builders had
succeeded in giving to the tower and spire, and with
which the ancient statues in their canopied niches
were in perfect harmony. For the massive tower-
buttresses are crowned with turrets, showing canopied
niches containing twelve over-life-size statues and
decorated with ball-flower ornament. Two of the
statues on the buttresses facing south are modern;
nine others are copies (1895) of the old statues,
stored now in the ancient Congregation House, which
still exhibit the carefully calculated gestures and the
studied designs of the original fourteenth century
workers. They form a series which recalls that
on the west front of Wells Cathedral, a rare
example of English sculpture in a genre which is
so plentifully and superbly illustrated by the French
cathedrals.
On the face of the south buttress of the west front
stood the statue, beautifully posed, of the Virgin with
the Infant Christ, the Lady of the Church thus
occupying the most important angle of the tower;
on the left, S. John the Evangelist with the cup.
Between the Evangelist and S. John the Baptist,
patron saint of the Chapel of Merton, Walter
of Merton looks out towards the College he
founded. These three are from new designs by
Mr Frampton.
On the N.W. angle of the tower is S. Cuthbert
of Durham, facing northwards. He holds in his
hand the head of S. Oswald, the Christian King slain
by Penda, and looks towards his own north country
and Durham, the great diocese so intimately connected
through its bishops and monastery with the early
collegiate foundations of the Universities. North¬
wards, too, towards his cathedral church of Lincoln,
178
The Medieval Student

faces S. Hugh, with the wild swan of Stowe nestling

to him as was his wont, with its neck buried in the
folds of his sleeve. This statue is on the eastern
buttress at the N.E. angle, and on the eastern face of
the same buttress is an equally noble statue of Edward
the Confessor. On the S.E. angle stands, it may be,
the murdered Becket, and among the other figures
Edmund Rich may perhaps be counted.
The chancel and nave are, it will be seen, splendid
examples of late perpendicular. The chancel, in fact,
began to be rebuilt in 1462 and the nave 1487-1498.
For the church “ was so ruinated in Henry VII.
reign that it could scarce stand,” and though it was
and is really a parish church, yet so closely was it
bound up with the life and procedure of the University
that the University at length took measures to collect
money for its repair.
They begged, after the approved manner of the
great church-builders of the Middle Ages, from the
archbishop downwards, and their begging was so
successful that they built the nave, as we now have
it, and the chancel. In order to secure an appearance
of uniformity, the architect unfortunately altered Adam
de Brome’s chapel, encasing the outer walls in the
new style, and inserting larger windows. Not con¬
tent with this, he likewise converted the old House
of Congregation by substituting a row of large for
two rows of small windows, giving thereby a false
impression from the outside, as if the upper and lower
stories were one.
The University had no right to the use of S.
Mary’s. The church was merely borrowed for ser¬
mons and meetings of Congregation, just as S. Peter
in the East was borrowed for English sermons and S.
Mildred’s for meetings of the Facuity of Arts. For
the University in its infancy had little or no property
181
 Oxford and its Story

of its own. It could not afford to erect buildings for

its own use. The parish churches, therefore, were
used by favour of the clergy, and lectures were
delivered in hired schools.
The need for some University building was, how¬
ever, severely felt. At last it was provided for in a
small way. 44 That memorable fabric, the old Con¬
gregation House,” and the room above it were begun
in 1320 by the above-mentioned Adam de Brome,
at the expense of Thomas Cobham, Bishop of Wor¬
cester. The latter had undertaken to enlarge the old
fabric of S. Mary’s Church by erecting a building
two stories high immediately to the east of the tower,
on the very site, that is, on which the University had
previously endeavoured to found a chantry. He in¬
tended that the lower room should serve primarily as
a meeting-place for the Congregations of regent-
masters, and at other times for parochial purposes.
The upper room was to be used partly as an oratory,
and partly as a general library. But the good bishop’s
books, which were to form the nucleus of this library,
met with the same fate as Richard de Bury’s. His
executors pawned them to defray the expenses of his
funeral, and to pay his debts. Oriel College at their
suggestion redeemed the books, and being also the
impropriating rectors of the church, they claimed to
treat both building and library as their own property.
But the masters presently asserted their supposed
rights by coming 44 with a great multitude ” and
forcibly carrying away the books from Oriel, 44 in
autumn, when the fellows were mostly away.” They
lodged the books in the upper chamber, and Oriel
presently acknowledged the University’s proprietary
rights.
The old University library, then, found its home in
the upper room of the old Congregation House, and
182
The Medieval Student

there remained until the books were moved to Duke

Humphrey’s library (1480). From that time till the
erection of Laud’s Convocation House, the upper
room was used as a school of law, and also as another
Congregation House, distinguished by the name of
« Upper.” Meantime a salary was provided for a
librarian, who besides taking care of the books in the
upper chamber, was to pray for the soul of the donors.
Other books were acquired by the University, either
by purchase, bequest, or as unredeemed pledges. Some
of these were kept in chests, and loaned out on security
like cash from the other chests, whilst others were
books given or bequeathed to the University, which were
kept chained in the chancel of the church, where the
students might read them. Others, in the upper room,
were secured to shelves by chains that ran on iron
bars. These shelves, with desks alongside,, would
run out from the walls, between the seven windows,
in a manner clearly shown by such survivals of
mediaeval libraries as exist at the Bodleian, Merton
and Corpus. The catalogue was in the form of a
large board suspended in the room. At first these
books were open for the use of all students at the
specified times, but by later statutes (1412), made
when the library had been increased by further dona¬
tions and time had, brought bitter experience, the.use
of them was stringently limited to graduates or religious
of eight years’ standing in Philosophia. . These
regulations were intended to provide against the
overcrowding of the small library, the disturbance of
readers and the destruction of books by careless, idle
and not over-clean boy students. With the object of
preserving the books, a solemn oath was also exacted
. from all graduates on admission to their degree, that
they would use them well and carefully. The lower
room fulfilled its founder’s intention, and here the
183
 Oxford and its Story

Congregation of regents met, whilst the Convocation,

or the Great Congregation of regents and non-regents
was held in the chancel of the church.
Here, then, we may imagine the Chancellor
sitting, surrounded by doctors and masters of the
Great Congregation as the scene was formerly depicted
in the great west window of S. Mary’s, and is still
represented on the University seal.
I have referred to the “ chests 99 which were kept in
the upper chamber. This was in fact the treasure-
house of the University, and here were stored in great
chests doubly and trebly locked, like the “ Bodley ”
chest in the Bodleian, the books and money with which
the University had been endowed for the benefit of her
scholars.
Mr Anstey (Munlmenta Academic a) has given a
brilliant little sketch of the scene which the fancy
may conjure up when the new guardians of the
chests were appointed and the chests opened in their
presence.
It is the eve of the Festival of S. John at the Latin
Gate, in the year of Grace 1457. To-morrow is
the commemoration day of W. de Seltone, founder
of the chest known by his name. Master T. Parys,
Principal of S. Mary Hall, and Master Lowson are
the new guardians, the latter the north countryman of
the two. High mass has just been sung with com¬
memoration collects, and solemn prayers for the repose
of the souls of W. de Seltone and all the faithful de¬
parted. It is not a reading (legible) day, so the church
is full. But now all have left, except a few ragged-
looking lads, who still kneel towards the altar, and
seem to be saying their Pater Nosters and Ave Marias,
according to their vow, for their benefactor. Master
Parys and Master Lowson, however, have left earlier ;
they have passed out of the chancel and made their way
184
The Mediaeval Student

into the old Congregation House for their first inspection

of the Seltone Chest. Each of the guardians draws
from beneath his cape a huge key, which he applies to
the locks. At the top lies the register of the contents,
in which is recorded particulars, dates, names, and
amounts of the loans granted. The money remaining
in one corner of the chest is carefully counted and
compared with the account in the register. Here and
there among valuable MSS. lie other pledges of less
peaceful sort but no less characteristic of a medieval
student’s valuable possessions. Here perhaps are two
or three daggers of more than ordinary workmanship,
and there a silver cup or a hood lined with minever.
That man in an ordinary civilian’s dress, who. stands
beside Master Parys, is John More, the University
stationer, and it is his office to fix the value of the
pledges offered and to take care that none are
sold at less than their real value. It is a motley group
that stands around; there are several masters and
bachelors, but more boys and young men in every
variety of coloured dress, blue, red, medley or green.
Many of these lads are but scantily clothed, and all
have their attention riveted on the chest, each with
curious eye watching for his pledge, his book or his
cup, brought from some country village, perhaps an
old treasure of his family, and now pledged in his ex¬
tremity. For last term he could not pay the principal
of his hall seven and sixpence due for the rent of his
miserable garret, or the manciple for his battels, but
now he is in funds again. The remittance, long de¬
layed on the road, has arrived, or perhaps he has
succeeded in earning or begging a sufficient sum to
redeem his pledge. He pulls out the coin from the
leathern money-pouch at his girdle. But among the
group you may see one master, whose bearing and dress
plainly denote superior comfort and position. He is
 Oxford and its Story

wearing the academical costume of a master, cincture

and biretta, gown and hood of minever. Can it be
that he too has been in difficulties ? He might easily
have been, for the post was irregular, and. rents were
not always punctual in those days. But m this case
it is Master Henry Sever, Warden of Merton, who
has lately been making some repairs in the College, and
he has borrowed from the Seltone Chest the extreme
sum permitted by the ordinance, sixty shillings, for
that purpose. The scholars plainly disapprove of his
action. They are jealous of his using the funds of the
chest which, they think, were not intended for the
convenience of such as he. Master Sever, however,
is filled with anxiety at the present moment. He has
pledged an illuminated missal which far exceeds m
value the sum he has borrowed, and this he omitted
to redeem at the proper time. It is not in the chest.
He inquires, and is told that it has been borrowed for
inspection by an intending purchaser, who has left a
silver cup in its place, of more intrinsic value by the
stationer’s decision, but not in Mr Sever’s opinion.
Satisfied that he will be able to effect an exchange, he
departs with the cup in search of the owner. Other
cases are now considered. Some redeem their pledges,
some borrow* more monies, some are new custonieis,
and they sorrowfully deposit their treasures and slink
sadly away, not without a titter from the more hardened
bystanders. But before the iron lid closes again, and
the bolts slide back, “Ye shall pray,” says Master
Parys, addressing the borrowers, “for the soul of W.
de Seltone and all the faithful departed.”
We may pass from this scene in the old Convocation
House to another not less typical of the mediaeval Uni¬
versity. The Chancellor’s court is being held, and the
Chancellor himself is sitting there, or, in his absence, his
commissary. The two proctors are present as assessors,
186
The Medieval Student

and these three constitute the court. It is before this

tribunal that every member of the u Privilege ” must
be tried. For it was only in a University court that
they could be sued in the first instance. Here then,
if we attend this court and glance through the records
of ages, we shall find the Chancellor administering
justice, exercising the extensive powers which he holds
as a Justice of the Peace and as almost the supreme
authority over members of the University. True, he
had not the power of life and death, but he could fine
or banish, imprison and excommunicate.^ And as to
the townsmen, he exercised over them a joint jurisdic¬
tion with the mayor and civic authorities. The accused
was entitled to have an advocate to defend him, and he
could appeal to the Congregation of Masters, and
thereafter to the Pope. Uo spiritual cause terminable
within the University could be carried out of it.
But in all temporal cases the ultimate appeal was to
the King. . r ,
The truculent student, however, was often inclined,
to appeal to force. Master John Hodilbeston, it is
recorded in the Acts of the Chancellor’s Court (1434)>
when accused of a certain offence, was observed to
have brought a dagger into the very presence of the
Chancellor, contrary to the statutes, “ wherefore he
lost his arms to the University and was put in Bocardo.
The next case on the list of this medieval police
court is that of Thomas Skibbo. He is not a clerk,
but he too finds his way to Bocardo, for he has com¬
mitted many crimes of violence. Highway robbery
and threats of murder were nothing to him, as a
scholar of Bekis-Inn comes forward to depose, and,
besides, he has stolen a serving boy. After the scholar
and the ruffian, the Warden of Canterbury College
steps forward. He has come to make his submission
to the commissary, whom he had declared to be a
187
 Oxford and its Story

partial judge, and whose summons lie had refused to

obey. Also, he has added injury to insult by en¬
couraging his scholars to take beer by violence in the
streets. The commissary graciously accepts his
apology and his undertaking to keep the peace in
future. The Master of the Great Hall of the
University now comes forward. Evil rumours have
been rife, and he wishes to clear his character of vile
slanders that have connected his name with those of
certain women. He brings no charge of slander, but
claims the right' of clearing himself by making an
affidavit. This was the system of compurgation, by
which a man swore that he was innocent of a crime,
and twelve good friends of his swore that he was
speaking the truth. In this case the Master was per¬
mitted to clear himself by oath before the commissary
in Merton College Chapel, and Mistress Agnes
Bablake and divers women appeared and swore with
him that rumour was a lying jade. On another
occasion the Principal of White Hall wished to prove
his descent from true English stock. He insisted on
being allowed to swear that he was not a Scotsman.
A discreditable rumour to that effect had doubtless
got abroad, without taking tangible form. But he
was, he maintained, a loyal Englishman. a It was
greatly to his credit ” doubtless. Qui / excuse, s’accuse,
we are inclined to think in such cases. The appalling
penalties which awaited the perjurer probably gave
the ceremony some force at one time. But Dr.
Gascoigne enters his protest in the Chancellor’s
book (1443) against the indiscriminate admission of
parties to compurgation. National feeling and clan
feeling ran high. Gascoigne says that he has known
many cases in which people have privately admitted
that they have perjured themselves in public. More¬
over, he added, no townsman ventures to object to a
18S
Ihe Mediceval Student

person, being admitted .to compurgation, for fear of

being murdered or at least maimed. No good end,
therefore, can be answered by it.
But what is the cause of Robert Wright, Esquire-
Bedel ? He has some complaint against the master
and fellows of Great University Hall (1456). The
Chancellor listens for a moment, and then suggests,
like a modern London police magistrate, that they
should settle their quarrel out of court. They decide
to appoint arbitrators, and bind themselves to abide by
their award. The commissary is frequently appointed
arbitrator himself, and his award is usually to the
effect that one party shall humbly ask pardon of the
other, pay a sum of money and swear to keep the
peace. Other awards are more picturesque. Thus,
when Broadgates and Pauline Halls decided to settle
their quarrel' in this way, the arbitrators ordered the
principals mutually to beg reconciliation from each
other for themselves and their parties, and to give
either to the other the kiss of peace and swear upon
the Bible to have brotherly love to each other, under
a bond of a hundred shillings. David Phillipe, who
struck John Olney, must kneel to him and ask and
receive pardon.
As an earnest of their future good-will, it is often
decreed that the two parties shall entertain their
neighbours. Two gallons of ale are mentioned some¬
times as suitable for this purpose; a feast is recom¬
mended at others, and the dishes are specified. As
thus:—(1465) The arbiter decides that neither party
in a quarrel which he has been appointed to settle
shall in future abuse, slander, threaten or make faces at
the other. As a guarantee of their mutual forgiveness
and reconciliation, they are commmanded to provide
at their joint charges an entertainment in S. Mary’s
College. The arbiter orders the dinner; one party is
 Oxford and its Story

to supply a goose and a measure of wine, the other

bread and beer.
Many and minute are the affairs of the Chancellor.
At one time he is concerned with the taverners. He
summons them all before him, and makes them swear
that in future they will brew wholesome beer, and that
they will supply the students with enough of it; at
another he imprisons a butcher who has been selling
a putrid and fetid ” meat, or a baker who has been
using false weights ; at another banishes a carpenter for
shooting at the proctors, or sends a woman to the
pillory for being an incorrigible prostitute or to Bocardo
for the medieval fault of being a common and intoler¬
able scold. Next he fines the vicar of S. Giles’ for
breaking the peace, and confiscates his club. Then
he dispatches the organist of All Souls’ to Bocardo,
for Thomas Bentlee has committed adultery. But
the poor man weeps so bitterly, that the Warden of
that college is moved to have good hope of the said
Thomas, and goes surety for him, and the “ organ-
player ” is released after three hours of incarceration.
The punishment of a friar who is charged with having
uttered a gross libel in a sermon, and has refused to
appear when cited before the Chancellor’s court, is
more severe. He is degraded in congregation and
banished.
The jurisdiction which we have seen the Chancellor
wielding in this court had not been always his, and it
was acquired not without dust and heat. At the
beginning of the thirteenth century he was both in fact
and in theory the delegate of the bishop of the diocese ;
not the presiding head, but an external authority who
might be invoked to enforce the decrees of the
Masters’ Guild.
Before that time the organisation of the University
extended at least so far as to boast of a “ Master of
190
The Medieval Student

the Schools,” who was probably elected by the

masters themselves, and whose office was very likely
merged into that of the Chancellor.
As an ecclesiastical judge, deriving his authority
from the Bishop of Lincoln, the Chancellor exercised
jurisdiction over students by virtue of their being
“ clerks,” not members of the University. Over
laymen he exercised jurisdiction only so far as they
were subject to the authority of the ordinary
ecclesiastical courts. At Oxford he had no prison
or Cathedral dungeon to which he could commit
delinquents. He was obliged to send them either to
the King’s prison in the Castle, or to the town prison
over the Bocardo Gate.
But from this time forward by a series of steps,
prepared as a rule by conflicts between town and
gown, the office of Chancellor was gradually raised.
First it encroached on the liberties of the town, and
then shook itself free of its dependence on the See of
Lincoln.
The protection of the great, learned and powerful
Bishop of Lincoln and the fact that, in the last resort,
the masters were always ready to stop lecturing and
withdraw with all the students to another town, for
the University, as such, had not yet acquired any ,
property to tie them to Oxford, were weapons which
proved of overwhelming advantage to the University
at this early stage of its existence. Again and again
we find that, when a dispute as to police jurisdiction
or authority arose between the University and the
town, pressure was brought to bear in this way. The
mastery ceased to lecture ; the students threatened to
shake'the dust of Oxford off their feet; the
enthusiastic Grossetete, throwing aside the cares of
State, the business of his bishopric, and the task of
translating the Ethics of Aristotle, came forward to
191
 Oxford and its Story

Intervene on behalf of his darling University and to

use his Influence with the King. The Pope, Innocent
IV. (1254), was also induced to take the University
under his protection. He confirmed its <c immunities
and liberties and laudable, ancient and rational customs
from whomsoever received,” and called upon the
Bishops of London and Salisbury to guard it from
evil. Against the combined forces of the Church,
the Crown, and the evident interests of their own
pockets, it was a foregone conclusion that the citizens
would not be able to maintain the full exercise of their
municipal liberty.
It was in 1244 that the first important extension of
the Chancellor’s jurisdiction was made. Some
students had made a raid upon Jewry and sacked the
houses of their creditors. They were committed to
prison by the civil authorities. Grossetete insisted on
their being handed over to the ecclesiastical jurisdiction.
As the outcome of this riot Henry III. presently issued
a decree of great importance. By it all disputes
concerning debts, rents and prices, and all other
“ contracts of moveables,” in which one party was an
Oxford clerk, were referred to the Chancellor for
trial. This new power raised him at once to a
position very different from that which he had
hitherto enjoyed as the mere representative of the
Bishop of Lincoln. u He was invested henceforth
with a jurisdiction which no Legate or Bishop could
confer and no civil judge could annul.” A charter
followed in 1248, which authorised the Chancellor
and proctors to assist at the assaying of bread and beer
by the mayor and bailiffs. On admission to office the
latter were required to swear to respect the liberties
and customs of the University, and the town, in its
corporate capacity, was made responsible for injuries
inflicted on scholars. The Chancellor’s jurisdiction
.192
 The Mediaeval Student

was still further extended in 1255. To his spiritual

power, which he held according to the ordinary
ecclesiastical law, and to the civil jurisdiction con¬
ferred upon him in 1244, anew charter now added
the criminal jurisdiction even over laymen, for breach of
the peace. By this charter Henry III. provided that,

“for the peace, tranquillity and advantage of the University

of scholars of Oxford, there be chosen four aldermen and
eight discreet and legal burghers associated with them, to
assist the Mayors and Bailiffs to keep the peace and hold
the Assizes and to seek out malefactors and disturbers of the
peace and night-vagabonds, and harbourers of robbers. _ Two
officers shall also be elected in each parish to make diligent
search for persons of suspicious character, and every one who
takes a stranger in under his roof for more than three nights
must be held&responsible for him. No retail dealer may buy
victuals on their way to market or buy anything with the
view of selling again before nine in the morning, under
penalty of forfeit and fine. If a layman assault a clerk, let
him be immediately arrested, and if the assault prove serious,
iet him be imprisoned in the Castle and detained there until
^ he give satisfaction to the clerk in accordance with the
judgment of the Chancellor and the University. If a clerk
shall make a grave or outrageous assault upon a layman, let
him be imprisoned in the aforesaid Castle until the
Chancellor demand his surrender ; if the offence be a light
one, let him be confined in the town prison until he be set
free by the Chancellor.
<< Brewers and bakers are not to be punished for the
first offence (of adulteration or other tradesmen’s tricks);
but shall forfeit their stock on the second occasion, and for
the third offence be put in the pillory.” (One.of these
u hieroglyphic State machines” stood opposite the Cross
Inn at Carfax; another, with stocks and gallows, at the
corner of Longwall and Holywell Streets. In the former
one Tubb was the last man to stand (1810), for perjury,
though not the last to deserve it.) “Every baker,” the
charter continues, “ must have his own stamp and stamp his
own bread so that it may be known whose bread it is;
every one who brews for sale must show his sign,'or forfeit
his beer. Wine must be sold to laymen and clerks on the
same terms. The assay of bread and ale is to be made half
N 193
 Oxford and its Story

yearly, and at the assay the Chancellor or his deputy

appointed for that purpose must be present; otherwise the
assay shall be invalid.”

A few years later a Royal Writ of Edward I.

(1275) conferred 00 the Chancellor the cognizance
of all personal actions whatever wherein either party
was a scholar, be he prosecutor or defendant. And
in 1290, by judgment of King and Parliament, after a
conflict between the town and University, when a
bailiff had resisted the authority of the Chancellor in
the students’ playground, Beaumont Fields, which
embraced the University Park and S. Giles’, the
Chancellor obtained jurisdiction in case of all crimes
committed in Oxford, where one of the parties was a
scholar, except pleas of homicide and mayhem. His
jurisdiction over the King’s bailiffs was affirmed, but
leave was granted them to apply to the King’s court
if aggrieved by the Chancellor’s proceedings.
From this time forward the authority of the
Chancellor was gradually increased and extended. It
was, indeed, not long before the office shook itself free
from its historical subordination to the Bishop of
Lincoln. After a considerable struggle over the
point, the bishop was worsted by a Papal Bull (1368),
which entirely abrogated his claim to confirm the
Chancellor elect. Since that time the University has
enjoyed the right of electing and admitting its highest
officer without reference to any superior authority
whatever.1 3
The precinct of the University was defined in the
mgn of Henry IV. as extending to the Hospital of
o. Bartholomew on the east, to Botley on the West
to Godstow on the north, and to Bagley Wood on the
south.

it 1 Hls!'of th.e. University of Oxford to the year 15*0. Sir

Henry Maxwell Lyte. **

I94
The Mediaeval Student

These were the geographical limits of the Univer¬

sity, and within them the following classes of people
were held (1459) to be “ of the privilege of the
University ” :—-The Chancellor, all doctors, masters
and other graduates, and all students, scholars and
clerks of every order and degree. These constituted
a formidable number in themselves when arrayed
against the town, for there were probably at least
3000 of them at the most flourishing periods. The
Archbishop of Armagh indeed stated confidently at
Avignon (1357) that there had once been 30,000,
but that must have been a rhetorical exaggeration.
There can never have been more than 4000. But in
addition to this army of scholars, all their “ daily
continual servants,” all “ barbers, manciples, spencers,
cokes, lavenders,” and all the numerous persons who
were engaged in trades ancillary to study, such as the
preparation, engrossing, illumination and binding of
parchment, were “of the privilege” and directly
controlled by the University. In what was afterwards
known as Schools Street all these trades were re¬
presented as early as 1190. Over these classes, and
within the limits defined, the jurisdiction of the
Chancellor was by the end of the fifteenth century
established supreme.
Citizens and scholars alike had now to be careful
how they lived. The stocks, the pillory and the
cucking stool awaited offenders among the townsmen,
fines or banishment the students who transgressed.
Local governments in the Middle Ages were
excessively paternal. They inquired closely into the
ways of their people and dealt firmly with their
peccadilloes. Did a man brew or sell bad beer he was
burnt alive at Niirnberg ; at Oxford he was condemned
to the pillory ; if a manciple was too fond of cards he
was also punished by the Chancellor’s court. A
*95
 Oxford and its Story

regular tariff was framed, of penalties for those breaches

of the peace and street brawls, in which not freshmen
only but heads of houses and vicars of parishes were so
frequently involved.
Endeavours were made to promote a proper standard
of life by holding “ General Inquisitions75 at regular
intervals. The town was divided into sections, and a
Doctor of Theology and two Masters of Arts were
told off to inquire into the morals of the inhabitants of
each division. Juries of citizens were summoned, and
gave evidence on oath to these delegate judges who sat
in the parish churches. The characters of their fellow-
townsmen were critically discussed. Reports were
made to the Chancellor, who corrected the offenders.
Excommunication, penance or the cucking stool were
meted out to “no common77 scolds, notorious evil-
livers and those who kept late hours.
It had formerly been enacted (1333) that since the
absence of the Chancellor was the cause of many perils,
his office should become vacant if he were to absent
himself from the University for a month during full
term. But in the course of the fifteenth century the
Chancellor changed from a biennial and resident official
to a permanent and non-resident one. He was chosen
now for his power as a friend at Court, and by the
Court, as it grew more despotic and ecclesiastically
minded, he was used as an agent for coercing the
University.
To-day the Chancellorship is mainly an honorary
office, usually bestowed on successful politicians. The
Chancellor appoints a Vice-Chancellor, but usage com¬
pels him to appoint heads of houses in order of
seniority. This right of appointment dates from the
time when the Duke of Wellington, as Chancellor,
dispensed with the formality of asking convocation for
its assent to the appointment of his nominee.
196
'I he Mediaeval Student

Having sketched thus far the development of the '

office which represents the power and dignity of the
University, we may now turn to consider the position
of the young apprentices from their earliest initiation
into this guild of learning.
The scholars of mediaeval Universities were your
true cosmopolitans. They passed freely from the
University of one country to that of another by virtue
of the freemasonry of knowledge. Despising the
dangers of the sea, the knight-errants of learning went
from country to country, like the bee, to use the
metaphor applied by S. Athanasius to S. Anthony, in
order to obtain the best instruction in every school.
They went without let or hindrance, with no passport
but the desire to learn, to Paris, like John of Salisbury,
Stephen Langton or Thomas Becket, if they were
attracted by the reputation of that University in
Theology ; to Bologna, if they wished to sit at the
feet of some famous lecturer in Civil Law. Emperors
issued edicts for their safe conduct and protection when
travelling in their dominions — even when warring
against the Scots, Edward III. issued general letters
of protection for all Scottish scholars who desired to
repair to Oxford or Cambridge—and when they
arrived at their destination, of whatever nationality
•they might be, they found there as a rule little colonies
of their own countrymen already established and ready
to receive them. Dante was as much at home in the
straw-strewn Schools Street in Paris as he would have
found himself at Padua or at Oxford, had he chanced
to study there.
It has indeed been suggested that he did study there
in the year 13 13. Like Chaucer, he may have done
so, but probably did not. There is certainly a reference
to Westminster in the cc Inferno ” (xii. 119) ; but it
is not necessary to go to Oxford in order to learn that
197
 Oxford and its Story

London and Westminster are on the banks of the

Thames.
In attending lectures at a strange University the
mediaeval students had no difficulty in understanding
the language of their teachers. For all the learned
world spoke Latin. Latin was the Volapuk of the
Middle Ages. Mediaeval Latin, with all its faults and
failing sense of style, is a language not dead, but
living in a green old age, written by men who on
literary matters talked and thought in a speech that is
lively and free and fertile in vocabulary. The common
use of it among all educated men gave authors like
Erasmus a public which consisted of the whole civilised
world, and it rendered scholars cosmopolitan in a
sense almost inconceivable to the student of to-day.
That was chiefly in the earlier days of Universities.
Gradually, with the growth of national feeling and the
more definite demarcation of nations and the ever-
increasing sense of patriotism, that higher form of
selfishness, cosmopolitanism went out of fashion.
i have spoken of the dangers of the sea ; they were
very great in those days of open sailing boats, when
the compass was unknown; but the dangers of land-
travelling were hardly less. The roads through the
forests that lay around Oxford were notoriously un¬
safe, not only in mediaeval days but even a hundred
years ago. Armed therefore, and if possible in
companies, the students would ride on their Oxford
pilgrimage. If they could not afford to ride, the
mediaeval pedagogue, the common carrier, would take
them to their destination for a charge of fivepence a
day. For there were carriers who took a regular
route at the beginning of every University year for
the purpose of bringing students up from the country.
The Mediaeval Student

They would have a mixed company of all ages in

their care. For though students went up to Oxford
as a rule between the ages of thirteen and sixteen,
many doubtless were younger and many older. It
was indeed a common thing for ecclesiastics of all ages
to obtain leave of absence from their benefices in order
to go up to the University and study Canon Law or
Theology there. You can fancy, then, this motley
assembly of pack-horses and parish priests, of clever
lads chosen from the monasteries or grammar schools,
and ambitious lads from the plough, all very genuine
philosophers, lovers of learning for its own sake or its
advantages, working their way through the miry
roads, passed occasionally by some nobleman’s son
with his imposing train of followers, and passing others
yet more lowly, who were just trudging it on
foot, begging their way, their bundles on their
shoulders.
You can fancy them at last coming over Shotover
Hill, down the “ horse path ” past S. Clement’s, and
so reaching safely their journey’s end. Once in
Oxford, they would take up their abode in a monastery
to which they had an introduction; in a college, if,
thanks to the fortune of birth or education, they had
been elected to share in the benefits of a foundation;
as menials attached to the household of some wealthier
student, if they were hard put to it; in a hall or house
licensed to take in lodgers, if they were foreigners or
independent youths. On taking up his residence in
one of these halls, the mediaeval student would find
that Alma Mater, in her struggles with the townsmen,
had been fighting his battles. Lest he should fall
among thieves, it had been provided that the rents
charged should be fixed by a board of assessoi s ; lest
the sudden influx of this floating population should
produce scarcity, and therefore starvation prices, the
 Oxford and its Story

transactions of the retailers were carefully regulated.

They were forbidden to buy up provisions from the
farmers outside the city, and so establish a a corner ” ;
they were forbidden even to buy in Oxford market till
a certain hour in the morning. The prices of vendibles
were fixed in the interests of the poor students. Thus
in 1315 the King ordained that “ a good living ox,
stalled or corn-fed, should be sold for 16s., and no
higher; if fatted with grass for 14s. A fat cow, 12s.
A fat hog of two years old, 3s. 4d. A fat mutton,
corn-fed or whose wool is not grown, is. Sd. A fat
mutton shorn, is. 2d. A fat goose, 2d. A fat hen
or two chickens, one penny. Four pigeons or twenty-
four eggs, one penny.”
The halls were, at any rate originally, merely private
houses adapted to the use of students. A common
room for meals, a kitchen and a few bedrooms w.ere
all they had to boast. Many of them had once be¬
longed to Jews, for they were large and built of stone.
And the Jews, being wealthy, had introduced a higher
standard of comfort into Oxford, and at the same time,
being a common sort of prey, they probably found that
stone houses were safer as well as more luxurious.
Moysey’s^ Hall and Lombard’s Hall bore in their
names evident traces of their origin. Other halls
derived their names from other causes. After the
great fire in 1190 the citizens, in imitation of the
Londoners, and the Jews, had rebuilt their houses of
stone.

. “ Such tenements,51 says Wood, “ were for the better dis¬

tinction from others called Stone or Tiled halls. Some of
those halls that were not slated were, if standing near those
that were, stiled Thatched halls. Likewise when glass came
into fashion, for before that time our windows were only
latticed, that hall that had its windows first glazed was stiled
for difference sake, Glazen hall. In like manner 5tis probable
that those that had leaden gutters, or any part of their roofs
200
 Oxford and its Story
“A chamber had he in that hosteirie,
Alone, wlthouten any compagnie,
Ful fetisly ydight with herbes sote.” , „ »
Halls, it will have been observed, were known' also
by the name of entries and inns or (deriving from the
French) hostels. And that in fact is what they were.
The principal, who might originally have been the
senior student of a party who had taken a house in
which to study, or the owner of the house himself,
derived a good income from keeping a boarding-house
of this kind. He was responsible to the University
for the good conduct of his men, and to his men, one
must suppose, for their comfort. The position of principal
was soon much sought after, and the ownership of a
good hostel, with a good connection, would fetch a
price like a public-house to-day.
It was found necessary, however, to decree that the
principal of a hall should be a master, and should not
cater for the other inmates. Payments for food were
therefore made by the students to an upper servant,
known as a manciple, whose duty it was to go to
market in the morning and there buy provisions for the
day, before the admission of the retail-dealers at nine
o’clock. The amount which each student contributed
to the common purse for the purchase of provisions was
known as “Commons.” It varied from eight to
eighteen pence a week. Extra food obtained from
the manciple to be eaten in private was called
“ Battels.”
The principal could only maintain his position and
fill his hall if he satisfied the students. The govern-
ment of these halls was therefore highly democratic.
A new principal could only succeed if he was accepted
by the general opinion of the inmates and received their
voluntary allegiance.
On coming up to Oxford the student, however little
202 .
The Medieval Student

he might intend to devote his life to the Churchy

adopted, if he had not done so before, clerical tonsure
and clerical garb. By so doing he became entitled
to all the immunities and privileges of the clerical
order. He was, now, so long as he did not marry,
exempt from the secular courts, and his person was
inviolable.
No examination or ceremony of any kind seems to
have been required in order to become a member of
the University. Attendance at lectures, after a declara¬
tion made to a resident master to the effect that the
student purposed to attend them, was enough to entitle
him to the privileges of that corporation.
The germ of the modern system of matriculation
(registration of names by the Chancellor or his deputy)
may perhaps be traced in the statute (1420), which
required that all scholars and scholars5 servants, who
had attained years of discretion, should swear before
the Chancellor that they would observe the statutes for
the repression of riots and disorders.
Among the students themselves, however, some
form of initiation probably took place, comparable to
that of the Bejaunus, or Yellow-bill, in Germany, or
of the young soldier, the young Freemason, or the
newcomer at an atelier in Paris to-day. Horseplay at
the expense of the raw youth, and much chaff and tom¬
foolery, would be followed in good time by a supper
for which the freshman would obligingly- pay. Initia¬
tion of this kind is a universal taste, and, if kept within
bounds, is not a bad custom for testing the temper and
grit of the new members of a community. At Oxford,
then, freshmen were subject to certain customs at the
hands of the senior scholars, or sophisters, on their
first coming. So Wood tells us, but he cannot give
details. He compares the ceremony, however, to the
“ salting 99 which obtained in his own day. Of this
203
 Oxford and its Story

salting, as it was practised at Merton, he gives the

following account:—
t!On Feast days, charcoal fires were lit in the Hall of
Mertonj and between five and six in the afternoon the senior
undergraduates would bring in the Freshmen, and make
them sit down on a form in the middle of the Hall. Which
done, everyone in order was to speak some pretty apothegm
Oi make a jest or bull or speak some eloquent nonsense, to
make the company laugh. But if any of the Freshmen
came off dull, or not cleverly, some of the forward or prag¬
matical seniors would tuck them, that is, set the nail of theii
thumb to their chin just under the lower lip, and by the help
ot their other fingers under the chin, would give him a mark
which would, sometimes produce blood. On Shrove Tuesday
a brass pot was set before the fire filled with cawdle by the
College Cook at the Freshmen’s expense. Then each of
them had to pluck off his gown and band and if possible
make himself look like a scoundrel. ‘Which done they
were conducted each after the other to the High Table, made
to stand upon a form and to deliver a speech.’ Wood gives
as the speech he himself made on this occasion, a dreary
piece of facetiousness. As a ‘ kitten of the Muses and
meer frog of Helicon he croaked cataracts of plumbeous
cerebrosity.’
“ The reward for a good speech was a cup of cawdle and
no saited^drink, for an indifferent one some cawdle and some
salted drink, and for a bad one. besides the tucks, nothin? but
College beer and salt. 6
“ When these ceremonies were over the senior cook
administered an oath over an old shoe to those about to be
admitted into the fraternity. The Freshman repeated the’
oath, kissed the shoe, put on his gown and band and took
his place among the seniors.”

When the freshmen of the past year were solemnly

made seniors, and probationers were admitted fellows,
similar ceremonies took place. At All Souls’, for
instance, on i4th January, those who were to be
admitted fellows were brought from their chambers in
the middle of the night, sometimes in a bucket slung
on a pole, and so led about the college and into the
hall, whilst some of the junior fellows, disguised
204
dbe Mediaeval Student

perhaps, would sing a song in praise of the mallard,

some verses of which I give ;
“The griffin, bustard, turkey and capon,
Let other hungry mortals gape on,
And on their bones with stomachs fall hard,
But let All Souls’ men have the mallard.
Hough ! the blood of King Edward, by the blood of
King Edward,
It was a swapping, swapping mallard.

“The Romans once admired a gander

More than they did their best commander,
Because he saved, if some don’t fool us,
The place that’s named from the scull of Tolus.
Hough! the blood of King Edward, by the blood of
King Edward,
It was a swapping, swapping mallard.

tt Then let us drink and dance a gailiard

In the remembrance of the mallard,
And as the mallard doth in the pool,
Let’s dabble, dive and duck in bowle.1
Hough, etc.”
In any attempt to appreciate the kind and character
of the mediaeval students and the life which they led,
it is necessary first of all to realise that the keynote of
the early student life was poverty. It was partly for
the benefit of poor scholars and partly for the benefit
of their founders’ souls, for which these scholars should
pray, that the early colleges and chantries were founded.
Morals, learning and poverty were the qualifications
for a fellowship on Durham’s foundation. Poverty,
i “ When that is done,” Hearne adds, “ they knock at all
the Middle Chambers where most of the Seniors lodge, of
whom they demand crowns apiece, which is readily given;
then they go with twenty or thirty torches upon the leads
of the College, where they sing their song as before. This
ended they go into their Common Rooms and make them¬
selves merry with what wine every one has a mind to.”
According to tradition, a mallard was found in a drain when
the foundations of the college were laid.
205
 Oxford and its Story

“ the stepmother of learning,” it is which the University

In Its letters and petitions always and truly represents
as the great hindrance to the student “ seeking in the
vineyard of the Lord the pearl of knowledge.’5 Books
these poor seekers could not afford to buy, fees they could
scarce afford to pay, food itself was none too plentiful.
But the pearl for which the young student as he sat
pinched and blue, at the feet of his teacher In the
schools, and the Masters of Arts,
“When, in forlorn and naked chambers cooped
And crowded, o’er the ponderous books they hung,”

alike were searching, was a pearl of great price. For

learning spelt success. There was through learning a
career open to the talents. The lowliest and neediest
might rise, by means of a University education, to the
highest dignity which the Church, and that was also
the world, could offer.
For all great civilians were ecclesiastics. The
Church embraced all the professions; and the professors
of all arts, of medicine, statesmanship or architecture,
of diplomacy and even of law, embraced the Church!
And the reward of success in any of them was ecclesi-
astical promotion and a fat benefice. The University
opened the door to the Church, with all its dazzling
possibilities of preferment, and the University itself
was thrown open to the poorest by the system of the
monastic houses and charitable foundations.
Promising lads, too, of humble origin were often
maintained at the schools by wealthy patrons From
a villein one might rise to be a clerk, from a clerk be¬
come a master of the University—a fellow, a bursar, a
bishop and a chancellor, first of Oxford, then of
England.
At the University, of course, the students were not
treated with the same absolute equality that thev are
206 j
The Mediaval Student

now, regardless of birth or wealth. Sons of noblemen

did not study there, unless they had a strong bent in
that direction. The days were not yet come when a
University training was valuable as a social and moral as
well as an intellectual education : when noblemen, there¬
fore, did attend the schools, more was made of them.
They wore hoods lined with rich fur, and enjoyed
'certain privileges with regard to the taking of degrees.
Like those idyllic islanders who lived by taking in
each other’s washing, the masters supported themselves
on the fees paid by the students who attended their
lectures, whilst the poorest students earned a livelihood
by waiting on the masters, or wealthier students.
Servitors, who thus combined the careers of under¬
graduates with those of “scouts,” continued in exist¬
ence till the end of the eighteenth century. They
were sent on the most menial errands or employed to
transcribe manuscripts, and five shillings was deemed
an ample allowance for their services. Whitfield was
a servitor, and the father of the Wesleys also. Such
students, lads of low extraction, drawn from the tap-
room or the plough, but of promising parts, would be
helped by the chests which we have described, and
which were founded for their benefit. When Long
Vacation came, they would turn again from intellectual
to manual labour. For Long Vacation meant for them,
not reading-parties, but the harvest, and in the harvest
they could earn wages. But there was another method
of obtaining the means to attend lectures at the Uni¬
versity which was popularised in the Middle Ages by
the Mendicants, by the theory of the poverty of Christ and
by the insistence of the Church on the duty of charity.
This was begging on the highway. “Pain por Dieu
aus escoiiers ” was a well-known “ street cry ” in
mediseval Paris, and in England during vacations the
wandering scholar,
soy
 Oxford and its Story

tc Often, starting from some covert place,

Saluted the chance comer on the road,
1
Crying, An obolus, a penny give
To a poor scholar.’”

And as they made their way along the high-road a

party of such begging scholars would come perhaps to a
rich man’s house, and ask for aid by prayer and song.
Sometimes they would be put to the test as to theb,
scholarship by being commanded to make a couplet of
Latin verses on some topic. Tbey would scratch
their heads, look wistfully at one another and produce
a passable verse or two. Then they would receive
their reward and pass on. So popular, indeed, did
this system become, that begging students had to be
restricted. Only those licensed by the Chancellor and
certified as deserving cases, like the scholars of Aris¬
totle’s Hall in 1461, were presently permitted to beg.
Where poverty was so prevalent, the standard of com¬
fort was not likely to be high. The enormous advance
m the general level of material comfort, and even luxury,
which has taken place in this country during the last
hundred years, makers it difficult to describe the com¬
fortless lives of these early students without givino an
exaggerated idea of the sacrifices they were making^and
the hardships they were enduring for the sake of setting
their feet on the first rung of this great ladder of learning
But it should be remembered that, as far as the ordinary
appliances of decency and comfort, as we understand
them, are concerned, the labourer’s cottage in these days
is etter supplied than was a palace in those when princes
“At matins froze and couched at curfew time,”
and when
“Lovers of truth, by penury constrained,
cu^er, Erasmus or Melancthon, read
Before the doors or windows of their ceils
By moonshine, through mere lack of taper light.**
The Mediaeval Student

If we realise that this was the ease, we shall not he

surprised to find that the rooms in which these students
and masters lived, so far from being spacious and
luxurious, were small, dingy, overcrowded and ex¬
cessively uncomfortable. It was rare for a student to
have a room to himself—46 alone, withouten any
^compagnie.” The usual arrangement in halls and
colleges would seem to have been that two or more
scholars shared a room, and slept in that part of it
which was not occupied by the £i studiesof the in¬
habitants. For each scholar would have a 44study”
of his own adjoining the windows, where he might
strain to catch the last ray of daylight. A 44 study??
was a movable piece of furniture, a sort of combination
of book-shelf and desk, which probably survives in the
Winchester 44 tovs.’5 The students shared a room,
and they frequently shared a bed too. The founder
of Magdalen provided that in his college Demies
under the age of fifteen should sleep two in a bed.
And in addition to their beds and lodgings, the poorest
students were obliged to share an academical gown
also. Friends who had all things in common, might
sleep at the same time, but could only attend lectures
one by one, for lack of more than one gown amongst
them. To these straits, it is said, S. Richard was
reduced. But such deprivation accentuates rather than
spoils the happiness of student life, as anyone who is
acquainted with the Qmrtier Latin will agree. When
the heart is young and generous, when the spirit is free
and the blood is hot, what matters hardship when there
are comrades bright and brave to share it; what matters
poverty when the riches of art and love and learning are
being outspread before your eyes; what matters the
misery of circumstance, when daily the young traveller
can wander forth, silent, amazed, into 44the realms of
 Oxford and its Story

Boring the many centuries that the mansions of the

wealthy and the palaces of princes were totally unpro¬
vided with the most indispensable appliances of domestic
decency, it is not to be expected that the rooms of
students should prove to be plentifully or luxuriously
furnished. We know the stock-in-trade of Chaucer’s
poor student:

i( His Almageste and bokes grete and smale

His astrelabie, longinge for his art,
His augrim-stones iayen faire apart
On shelves couched at his beddes heed ;
His presse y-covered with a falding reed.
And al above ther lay a gay sautrye
On which he made a nightes melodye
So swetely, that all the chambre rong;
And Angelas ad virginem be song.”

We can supplement Chaucer’s inventory of a poor

student’s furniture by an examination of old indentures.
Therein we find specified among the goods of such an
one just such a fithele or “ gay sautrye ” as Chaucer
noted, an old cithara or a broken lute, a desk, a stool,
a chair, a mattress, a coffer, a tripod table, a mortar
and pestle, a sword and an old gown. Another
student might boast the possession of a hatchet, a table
“quinque pedum cum uno legge,” some old* wooden
dishes, a pitcher and a bowl, an iron twister, a brass
pot with a broken leg, a pair of knives, and, most
prized of all, a bow and twenty arrows. Few could
boast of so many “bokes at his beddes heed” as
Chaucer s cleric of Oxenford. Manuscripts were of
immense value in those days, and we need hardly be
surprised if that 'worthy philosopher, seeing that he had
invested his money in twenty volumes clad in black
and red, had but little gold remaining in his coffer.
The books that we find mentioned in such, indentures,
are those which formed the common stock of mediaeval
210
The Mediaeval Student

learning, volumes of homilies, the works of Boethius,

Ovid’s De remedio amoris a ad a book of geometry.
These aod other books, as articles of the highest in¬
trinsic value, were always mentioned in detail in the
last will and testament of a dying scholar. But, as
the modern artist, on his death-bed in the Quartier
Latin, summoned his dearest friend to his side and
’exclaimed, u My friend, I leave you my wife and my
pipe. Take care of my pipe”; so the mediaeval
student would often feel that though his books might be
his most valuable legacy in some eyes, his bow and
arrows, his cap and gown or his mantle, “blodii coloris,”
these were the truest pledges of affection that he could
bequeath to the comrade of his heart. Only the
wealthier students, or the higher officials of the Uni¬
versity, rejoiced in such luxuries as a change of clothes,
or could reckon among their furniture several forms or
chairs, a pair of snuffers and bellows. For of what
use -to the ordinary student were candlesticks and
snuffers, when candies cost the prohibitive price of
twopence a pound ; or what should he do with bellows
and tongs when a stove or fire was out of the question,
save in the case of a Principal ? To run about in order
not to go to bed with cold feet was the plan of the
mediaeval student, unless he anticipated the advice of
Mr Jorrocks and thought of ginger.
From his slumbers on a flock bed, in such quarters
as I have described, the mediaeval student roused him
with the dawn. For lectures began with the hour of
prime, soon after daybreak. He was soon dressed,
for men seldom changed their clothes in those days,
and in the centuries when the manuals of gallantry
recommended the nobleman to wash his. hands once a
day and his face almost as often, when a charming
queen like Margaret of Navarre, could remark without
shame that she had not washed her hands for eight
211
 Oxford and its Story

days, it is not to be expected that the ablutions of a

mere student should be frequent or extensive. Washing
is a modern habit, and not widespread. To attend a
“chapel ” or a “ roll-call ” is the first duty of the
modern undergraduate, but a daily attendance at mass
was not required till the college system had taken
shape; the statutes of New College, in fact, are the
first to enforce it. All therefore that the yawning ’
student had to do, before making his way to the
lecture-room in the hall of his inn or college, or in the
long low buildings of Schools Street, was to break his
fast, if he could afford to do so, with a piece of bread
and a pot o’ the smallest ale from the “ Buttery.” As
a lecture lasted, not the one hour of a “ Stunde,” but
for two or three hours, some such support would be
highly desirable, but not necessary. Our forefathers
were one-meal men, like the Germans of to-day.
Civilisation is an advance from breakfast to dinner,
from one meal a day to several. Late dinner is the
goal towards which all humanity presses. For dinner¬
time as De Quincey observed, has little connection
with the idea of dinner. It has travelled through
every hour, like the hand of a clock, from nine or ten
in the morning till ten at night. But at Oxford it
travelled slowly. Hearne growls at the colleges
which, in 1723, altered their dinner hour from eleven
to twelve, “from people’s lying in bed longer than
they used to do.” Happily for him he did not live
to see the beginning of the nineteenth century, when
those colleges which had dined at three advanced to
four, and those that had dined at four to five ; or the
close of it, when the hour of seven became the accepted
time.
The. mediaeval student took his one meal at ten or
eleven in the morning. Soup thickened with oatmeal,
baked meat and bread was his diet, varied by unwhole-
212
The Medieval Student

some salt fish in Lent. These viands were served in

hall on wooden trenches and washed down by a
tankard of college beer. During the meal a chapter
of the Bible or of some improving work in Latin was
read aloud, and at its conclusion the founder's prayer
and a Latin grace would be said. Conversation, it
was usually ordained, might only be carried on m
1 Latin; the modern student, on the contrary* is
6( sconced ” (fined a tankard of beer) if he speaks
three words of <£ shop ” in hall. After dinner perhaps
some deputations of exercises, some repetition and dis¬
cussion of the morning’s lecture would be held in hall,
or the students would take the air, walking out two
and two, as the founders directed, if they were good;
going off singly, or in parties to poach or hawk or spoil
for a row, if they were not. Lectures or disputations
were resumed about noon.
Seated on benches, or more usually and properly,
_ according to the command of Urban V., sitting on the
rush-strewn floors of the school-room, the young
seekers after knowledge listened to the words of
wisdom that flowed from the regent master, who sat
above them at a raised desk, dressed in lull academical
costume. Literally, they sat at the feet of their
Gamaliels.
In the schools they were enjoined to “ sit as quiet
as a girl,” but they were far from observing this
injunction. Old and young were only too ready to
quarrel or to play during lectures, to shout and interrupt
.whilst the master was reading the Sentences of Peter
Lombard, and bang the benches with their books to
express their approval or disapproval of his comments
thereon.
Supper came at five, and after that perhaps a visit
to the playing fields of Beaumont or a tavern, where'
wine would be mingled with song, and across the oaken
213
 Oxford and its Story

tables would thunder those rousing choruses that students

ever love:

u Mihi est propositnm in taberna mori

Vimirn sit appositum morientis ori,
Ut dicant, quum venerint, angelorum chori,
‘ Deussit propitius huic potatorL’”

When curfew rang at length, all the students would

assemble in hall and have acs drinking” or “ collation.33
Then, before going to bed, they would sing the
Antiphon of the Virgin (Salve Regina), and so the
day was finished. A dull, monotonous day it seems
to us, varied only by sermons—and there was no lack
of them—at S. Mary’s or S. Peter’s in the East, with
the chance excitement of hearing a friar recant the
unorthodox views he had expressed the previous
Sunday; but it was a day that was bright and social
compared with the ordinary conditions of the time.
In this daily round, so far as one has been able to
reconstruct it, the absence of any provision for physical
recreation is a noticeable thing to us, who have exchanged
the mediaeval enthusiasm for learning for an enthusiasm
for athletics. Both are excellent things in their way,
but as the governor of an American State remarked
when defending the practice of smoking over wine,
both together are better than either separate. And
nowadays in some cases the combination is happily
attained. But in an age which inherited the monkish
tradition of the vileness of the body and the need of
mortifying it, games of all sorts were regarded as a
weakness of the flesh. So far were founders from
making any provision for recreation, that they usually
went out of their way to prohibit it. Games with bat
and ball, tennis, that is, or fives, were strictly forbidden
as indecent, though in some cases students were
permitted to play with a soft ball in the college courts.
214.
The Medieval Student

But “deambulation In the College Grove3’ was the

monastic* ideal. Nor did the founders frown only on
exercise; amusements of the most harmless sort were
also under their ban. ^ On the long, cold, dark winter
evenings the students were naturally tempted to linger
in the hall after supper, to gather round the Ere, if
there was one, in the middle of the room, beneath the
" louvre, to tell tales there and sing carols, to read poems,
chronicles of the realm or wonders of the world. But
it was only on the eve of a festival that illiam of
Wvkeham would allow this relaxation in his foundation.
The members of Trinity College were allowed to play
cards in hall on holidays only, “but on no account for
money.33 Mummers, the -chief source of amusement
among the medisevals, were only permitted to enter
New College once a year, on Twelfth Night. It was
not till the dawn of the -Renaissance that plays^ began
to be acted in the colleges and halls, and to bring t e
academic intellect into touch with the views and
literature of the people.
Not only was it forbidden to play marbles on the
college steps, but even the hard exercise of chess was
prohibited as a “noxious, inordinate and unhonest
game.33 And the keeping of dogs and hawks was
anathema. t ,
By a survival of this medieval view, the under¬
graduate is still solemnly warned by the statute book
against playing any game which may cause injury to
others ; he is urged to refrain from hunting wild beasts
■ with ferrets, nets or hounds, from hawking, “necnon
ab omni apparatu et gestatione bombardarum et
arcubalistarum.33 In the same way he is forbidden
' still to carry arms of any sort by day or night, unless
it be bows and arrows for purposes of honest amusement.
But to these injunctions, I fear, as to the accompanying
threat of punishment at the discretion or the Vice-
215
 Oxford and its Story

Chancellor, he does not pay over much attention. He

does not consider them very seriously when ‘he plays
football or hunts with the “ Bicester/5, takes a day's
shooting or runs with the Christ Church beagles.
The restrictions which I have quoted above were
mostly introduced by the founders of colleges. So far
as the University was concerned, the private life of the
student was hardly interfered with at all.
The offence of night-walking, indeed, was re¬
pressed by the proctor who patrolled the streets with
a pole-axe and bulldogs (armed attendants), but the
student might frequent the taverns and drink as he
pleased. His liberty was almost completely unre¬
stricted, except as to the wearing of academic dress,
the attendance of lectures and the observance of the
curfew bell. Offences against morality and order
were treated as a rule, when they were dealt with at
all, with amazing leniency. Murder was regarded as
a very venial crime; drunkenness and loose-living as
hardly matters for University police. A student who
committed murder was usually banished, and banish¬
ment after all meant to him little more than changing
his seat of learning. The punishment, though it might
cause inconvenience, did not amount to more than
being compelled to go to Cambridge. Fines, ex¬
communication and imprisonment were the other
punishments inflicted for offences; corporal punish¬
ment was but seldom imposed by the University.
But with the growth of the college system the bonds
of discipline were tightened. Not only did the
statutes provide in the greatest detail for the punish¬
ment of undergraduate offences, stating the amount of
the fine to be exacted for throwing a missile at a
master and missing, and the larger amount for aiming
true, but also the endowment of the scholar made it
easy to collect the fine. The wardens and fellows,
216
<Ihe Medieval Student

too, were in a stronger position that; principal of

a hall, who owed his place to his might
students, who, if he cease P house where the
leave his hall and remove could be relied uoon
principal was ^ Wte re^ .f, ^

to wmk at ^ f<)1 Thusdthe founders of the early

did not share them. force on the recipients
colleges were enabled. the rigour and decency
of their bounty something of the r g the
of monastic discipline. , r co}}eoes was in¬
authority entrusted to t e ea d*ate was re-
creased, and the position of boy. The
duced to that of die(ea'^8rendered the undergraduate
statutes of B.N.C. (I5°9J ,• tion 0f the college
liable to be birched at tl fl d if he had not
lecturer. He might “^tughed or talked
prepared h“ Jdbus'comparisons, or spoke
in lecture ; it he maa , disobedient or did
English; if he were^np ^ students 0f
not attend chapel. J , t the age of twenty.
Cardinal College to be fl°gg JLjarcntlv a sixteenth-
impositions by a dean tv fellows
century invention lhen or cards, or
who had played inordinate^ notorious fighters or
earned a reputation f » ordered to read m
great frequenters of ^ 5^ 6 to 7 a.m.
their college '^^^“^tommons occasionally re-
And the loss of,a.^"f undergraduates who did not
warded the insolence *nrc or who, yield-
duly cap and give way <;0 ’ which the
ing to that desire to adorn.S^wdy-waistcoated

medteVo!s
successors, S“orT‘‘ltage»decentl
wore hair’” and Cl°th °f
scissors
i old Dr KetttU of ^fC^lockt o7his?schokrs with
to his muff, and snip off the £ g locks oi_ ^
these, or with a bread hmie on tn 2I7
 Oxford and its Story

no clerical hue, slashed doublets and boots and spurs

beneath their gowns.
As to the academic career of the mediaeval student •
the course of his studies and “ disputations ” in the
schools ; the steps by which the a general sophister ”
became a “ determining bachelor,” and the bachelor
if he wished to teach, took a master’s degree, first
obtaining the Chancellor’s licence to lecture, and then,
on the occasion of his “inception,” when he “ com¬
menced master ” and first undertook his duty of
teaching in the schools, being received into the
fraternity of teaching masters by the presiding master
of his faculty—of these ceremonies and their signifi¬
cance and the traces of them which survive in modern
academic life, as of the high feastings and banquetings
with which, as in the trade guilds, the new apprentices
and masters entertained their faculties, I have no
space here to ■ treat.
The inceptor, besides swearing not to lecture
at Stamford, recognise any University but Oxford
and Cambridge, or maintain Lollard opinions, also
bound himself to wear a habit suitable to his
degree. ^ As an undergraduate he had had no
academical dress, except that, as every member of
the University was supposed to be a clerk, he was
expected to wear the tonsure and clerical habit. The
characteristic of this was that the outer garment must
be of a certain length and closed in front. It was
the cut and not the colour of the “ cloth ” which was
at first considered important. But later regulations
restricted the colour to black, and insisted that this
garment must reach to the knees. In the colleges,
however, it was only parti-coloured garments that
were regarded as secular, and the “ liveries ” mentioned
by the founders were usually clothes of the clerical
cut but of uniform colour. The fellows of Queen’s,
218
The Mediaeval Student

for instance, were required to wear blood-red. The

colour of the liveries was not usually prescribed by
statute, but differences of colour and ornament still
survive at Cambridge as badges of different colleges.
The masters at first wore the cappa, which was the
ordinary out-door full-dress of the secular clergy.
And this a cope,” with a border and hood of minever,
came to be the official academical costume. The
shape of the masters5 cappa soon became stereotyped
and distinctive; then a cappa with sleeves was adopted
as the uniform of bachelors. As to the hood, it was
the material of which it was made—minever—which
distinguished the master, not the hood itself; for a
hood was part of the ordinary clerical attire. Bachelors
of all faculties wore hoods of lamb’s-wool or rabbit5s-
fur, but undergraduates were deprived of the right of
wearing a hood in 1489—nisi liripipium consuetura
. . » et non contextum—the little black stuff hood,
worn by sophisters in the schools till within living
memory.
The cappa went out of use amongst the Oxford
M.A.’s during the sixteenth century. The regents
granted themselves wholesale dispensations from its
use. Stripped of this formal, outer robe, the toga
was revealed, the unofficial cassock or under-garment
which now gradually usurped the place of the cappa
and became the distinctively academical dress of the
Masters of Arts. But it was not at first the dull
prosaic robe that we know. The mediseval master was
clad in bright colours, red or green or blue, and re¬
joiced in them until the rising flood of prejudice in
favour of all that is dull and sombre and austere washed
away these together with almost all other touches of
colour from the landscape of our grey island.
The distinctive badge of mastership handed to the
inceptor by the father of his faculty, was the biretta,
219
 Oxford and. zts Stofy

“ ^“7 “F WIU1 a tu“ 0“ the top, from which is

descended our cap with its tassel. Doctors of the
superior faculties differentiated themselves by wearing
a biretta (square cap) or pilea (round) as well as
cappas, of bright hues, red, purple or violet. Gascoigne
indeed, m his theological dictionary, declares that this
head-dress was bestowed by God himself on the
Doctors of the Mosaic Law. Whatever its origin
the round velvet cap with coloured silk ribbon, cSne

°t Lwt? mSmL1*"1”' I”opmj'of ,he Doc»r!

The Oxford gowns of the present day have little
resemblance to their mediaeval prototypes. For the
ordinary undergraduate or “commoner” to-day
academical dress, which must be worn at lectures. In
chapel, m the streets at night, and on all official
occasions consists of his cap, a tattered “mortar-
rd, and a gown which seems a very poor relation
of the original clerical garb. The sleeies have none
an t e ength; only two bands survive, and a little
gathering on the shoulders, and this apology for a
gown is worn as often as not round the thetas a
scarf, or carried under the arm.
Some years ago it was a point of honour with every
undergraduate to wear a cap which was as battered

thed fimePMab 6 38 P0SSlble- Evefy freshman seized

the first opportunity to break the corners of his
“mortar-board” and to cut and unravel the tassel
m«t°nv thC tUfied blretta’ when k was the badge of
mastership, was much coveted by undergraduates
First, they obtained the right' of wearinga,^
cap without a tassel, like those still worn b^ the
choristers of Oxford colleges, and then they7were

rSf °f * ^ The . in th/LITf

issef W C0T0n?. t00k the of a golden
tassel. Snobs who- cultivated the society of these
The Mediaeval Student

gilded youths for the sake of their titles or their

cash, or tutors,
« Rough to common men.
But honeying at the whisper of a Lord,”

gained from this fact the nick-name of tuft-hunters.

The commoner, it should be explained, is one who
pays for his commons, a student not on the foundation.
The colleges were, in most cases, intended originally
only for the fellows and scholars on the foundation.
The admission of other students as commoners or
boarders was a subsequent development, and various
ranks of students came to be recognised—noblemen,
gentlemen commoners, commoners, fellow-commoners,
battelers, or servitors. These grades are now practic¬
ally obsolete, the only distinction drawn among the
undergraduates being between the scholars or students
on the foundation and commoners, the ordinary under¬
graduates, who do -not enjoy any scholarship or
exhibition. The scholar, who must wear a larger
gown with wide sleeves, is known by various names at
various colleges. At Merton he is a post-master, at
Magdalen a demy, so-called because he was entitled
to half the commons of a fellow.
The history of the commoner, the growth of an
accretion that now forms the greater part of a college,
may be illustrated by the records., of the latter
foundation.
The statutes of New College had not made any
provision for the admission of commensaks, but William
of Waynfiete, in drawing up the statutes of Magdalen,
was the first definitely to recognise the system that had
grown up by which men who were not on the
foundation lived as members of the college. Wayn¬
fiete limited the number of non-foundationers to
twenty. They were to live at the charges of their
221
 Oxford and its Story

own kindred; they were to be vouched for by

“ creancers ” ; and the privilege of admission was to
be reserved for the sons of noble and powerful friends
of the college.
But within a hundred years the number of the
commoners or battelers increased far beyond that
allowed by the statutes. The position of these
commoners was anomalous and led to fi< disorder and
confusion/5 as certain fellows did most bitterly
complain to the Visitor. No provision, it appears,
was made either for the instruction or the discipline of
these supernumeraries. They were, in fact, regarded as
the private pupils of the President or of one of the
fellows. In attendance upon the wealthier of them
or upon other members of the college came numerous
“ poore scholars/’ acting as their servants and profiting
in their turn from such free teaching as the Grammar
School and the college lecturers might afford.
The system, however, was already justified to some
extent by the fact that among the pupils of the
President were numbered Bodley, Camden, Lyly and
Florio. The Visitor, therefore, contented himself
with enforcing the observation of the limits imposed
by the statutes. The poor scholars were in future not
to be more than thirteen in number, and were to be
attached to the thirteen senior fellows. Before long,
however, the matriculations of non-foundationers began
to increase very rapidly. A new block of buildings
even was erected near the Cherwell for their accom¬
modation by 1636. This is that picturesque group of
gables which nestles under the great tower and forms
so distinct a feature of the view from Magdalen
Bridge. The number of poore scholars ” had also
increased—servitors whose office forestalled that of the
college “ scout.” They bridged the days when the
junior members of a foundation “did” for themselves
222
7he Mediaeval Student
and the modern days of an organised college service.
It was decided, and this is where the scout has the
advantage of his forerunners, that they should be
required to attend the Grammar School, and after¬
wards to perform all disputations and exercises required
of members of the foundation. All commoners, also,
a the sonnes of Noblemen and such as are of great
quality only excepted’3 were to be “tyed to the
same rules.35
Little more than a hundred years later Edward
Gibbon matriculated at Magdalen (1752) as a
c< gentleman commoner,35 and as a youth of fifteen
commenced those fourteen months which he has told
us were the most idle and unprofitable of his whole
life. There are prigs of all ages. Gibbon must have
been intolerable in a Common Room. One can forgive
the “ Monks of Magdalen53 for not discussing the
Early Fathers with him after dinner, but one has no
inclination on the other hand to revere the men who
had already (1733), in their enthusiasm for the
Italian style, begun the “New Buildings,33 and were
still threatening to pull down the cloister and to
complete a large quadrangle in the same style, of
which the New Buildings were to form one end.
'The damage done by the succeeding generation was
directed chiefly against the chapel and the hall, where
under the guidance of the outrageous James Wyatt,
plaster ceilings were substituted for the old woodwork.
The generosity of a late fellow has enabled Mr
Bodley, with the aid of Professor Case, to repair this
error by an extraordinarily interesting and successful
restoration *(1903). Magdalen Hall is now worthy
of its pictures, its ct linen-fold33 panelling and splendid
screen. Bitter as is the account which Gibbon has
left us, it cannot be denied that there was much reason
in his quarrel with the Oxford of his day. I say
p 225'
 Oxford and its Story

Oxford, for the state of Magdalen was better rather

than worse than that of the University at large. It
should, however, in fairness be pointed out that* as a
gentleman commoner in those days he was one of a
dass which was very small and far from anxious to
avail itself of tne intellectual advantages of a University
training. The commoners at Magdalen were now
very few m number. The founder’s limitation was
now so interpreted as to restrict them to the particular
class of gentleman commoners, sons of wealthy men
at liberty to study, but expected to prefer, and as a
matter of fact usually preferring, to enjoy themselves.
■But the efforts of the more liberal-minded fellows
were at. length crowned with success. By the first
University Commission the college was allowed to
admit as many non-foundationers as it could provide
with rooms. The last gentleman commoner had
ceased to figure in the Calendar by i860. The
system of licensed lodgings introduced by the Uni¬
versity soon caused the numbers of the ordinary
commoners to increase, so that in 1875 one-third of
the resident undergraduates were living in lodgings
outside the college. It was clearly time fol the
college to provide accommodation for as many of these
as possible within its own walls. The change which'
took place in Magdalen during the last century, a
change from a small society, made up almost wholly
of foundation-members and to a great extent of
upaofathe *° 3 T'ety of.considerat,Ie "umbers, made
upmf the same elements, m about the same proportion
as most of the other CoHeges,” is recorded*therefore
“the architecture of Oxford. For it was to lodge
the commoners that the buildings which are known Is

the JeiUsU (S°;Cfd fr0m the “ in *S on

west side of the tower which is placed at the
these bu!ldin§s> and which reminds one
The Mediceval Student
that S. Swithun was buried in Winchester Cathedral
dose to the beautiful shrine of William of Waynflete)
were designed by Messrs Bodley & Garner (1884).
They face the High Street, .and you pass them on
your left as you come down to the new entrance
gateway, which is in the line of the outer wall, parallel
to the High. The old gateway, designed by Inigo
Jones, stood almost at right angles to the site of the
present gateway and lodge, looking west. It was
replaced in 1844 by a new one designed by A. W. Pugin.
The present gateway (1885) follows the lines of the
old design of Pugin, and the niches are filled with
statues of S. John the Baptist, S. Mary Magdalen, and
of the founder, William of Waynflete. S. John the
Baptist was the patron Saint of the old hospital, and
after S. John the quadrangle into which you now enter
is called. Opposite to you are the President’s lodgings,
built by Messrs Bodley & Garner in 1887 on the site
of the old President’s lodgings. With the exquisite
architecture of the chapel and cloister on the right to
guide them, these famous architects have not failed
to build here something that harmonises in style and
treatment with the rest. One might wish that S.
Swithun’s were a little quieter. There is a slight
yielding to the clamorous desire for fussy ornamenta¬
tion which is so typical of this noisy age. But the
President’s lodgings are perfect in their kind. As. you
stand, then, in S. John’s Quadrangle you have, in the
chapel and founder’s tower, and the cloister on your
right, and in the picturesque old fragment of the
Grammar School, known as the Grammar Hal1
facing you on your left, an epitome, as it were,
of the old. college foundations of Oxford; and in
those buldings of S. Swithun and the gateway,
which faces in a new direction, an epitome of the new
1 Now forming one side of a new quadrangle (1929)*
227
 Oxford and its Story

Oxford that has been grafted on the old. On the

extreme right yon see a curious open-air pulpit of
stone, from which the University sermon used to be
preached on S.
John the Bap¬
tist’s Day. On
that occasion the
pulpit, as well as
the surrounding
buildings, was
strewn with
rushes and
boughs in token
of S. John’s
preaching in the
wilderness.
In the Middle
Ages the chief
executive officers
of the University
were the Proc¬
tors, who are first
mentioned in
lyujH ■ 1248. The ori-
gin ofthdr office
is obscure. They
were responsible
for the collection
, , and expenditure
of the common funds of the.. University, and as
a record of this function they still retain in their
r°bes,a, Pfse4 a rudimentary organ, as it were,
atrophied by disuse, but traceable, in a triangular
bunch of stuff.at the back of the shoulder. Apart
rrom this duty and; that of regulating the system of
Otherwise held to be the remnant of a. tippet
228 ". . r -
The Me diaval Student

lectures and disputations, their chief business was to

keep order. One can imagine that a Proctor’s life
was not a happy one. He had to endeavour not only
to keep the peace between the students and the
townsmen, but also between the numerous factions
among the scholars themselves. The friars and the
secular clergy, the Artists and the Jurists, the
Nominalists and the Realists, and, above all, the
Northerners and Southerners were always ready to
quarrel, and quarrels quickly led to blows, and blows
to a general riot. For the rivalry of the nations was
a peculiar feature of mediaeval Universities. At
Bologna and Paris the Masters of Arts divided
themselves into 41 Four Nations,” with elective officers
at their head. At Oxford the main division was
between Northerners and Southerners, between students,
that is, who came from the north or the south of the
Trent. Welshmen and Irishmen were included among
the Southerners. And over the northern and southern
Masters of Arts presided northern and southern
Proctors respectively, chosen by a process of indirect
election, like the rectors of Bologna and Paris.
Contests and continual riots arising out of the rivalry
of these factions took the place of modern football
matches or struggles on the river.
In 1273, ^or ^stance, we read of an encounter
between the Northerners and the Irish, which resulted
in the death of several Irishmen. So alarming,
apparently, was this outbreak that many of the lead¬
ing members of the University departed in fear, and
only returned at the stern command of the King.
The bishops, too, issued a notice, in which they
earnestly exhorted the clerks in their dioceses to
44 repair to the schools, not armed for the fight, but
rather , prepared for study.” , But the episcopal
exhortation had no great effect. Quarrel after quarrel
229
 Oxford and its Story

broke out between the rival nations. They plundered

each others’ goods and broke each others’ heads with
a zest worthy of an Irish wake.
In spite of their reputation for riotousness, however
the Irish students were specially exempted by royal
writ from the operation of the statute passed by
Parliament in 1413, which ordered that all Irishmen
and Irish clerks, beggars called Chamberdekens,
should quit the realm. Graduates in the schools had
been exempted in the statute. This exemption does
not appear to have conduced to the state of law and
order painfully toiled after by the mere Saxon. For
a few years later, in the first Parliament of Henry VI.,
the Commons sent up a petition complaining of the
numerous outrages committed near Oxford by « Wylde
Irishmen.” These turbulent persons, it was alleged,
living ^ under the jurisdiction of the Chancellor,&set
the King’s officers at defiance, and used such threaten¬
ing language, that the bailiffs of the town did not
dare to stir out of their houses for fear of death.
The Commons therefore prayed that all Irishmen,
except graduates in the schools, beneficed clergy,
professed monks, landowners, merchants and members
of civic corporations, should be compelled to quit the
realm. It was also demanded that graduates of
Irish extraction should be required to find security
for their good behaviour, and that they should not
be allowed to act as principals of halls. This petition
received the royal assent. But it was stipulated that
Irish clerks might freely resort to Oxford and
Cambridge, if they could show that they were subjects
of the English king.
It was in vain that students were compelled to
swear that they would not carry arms ; in vain were
230
Jhe Medieval Student

seditious gatherings and leagues for the espousal of

private quarrels forbidden.
in vain, after one great outbreak in 1252, were
formal articles of peace drawn, up; in vain were the
combatants bound over to keep the peace, and to
give secret information to the Chancellor if they
heard of others who were preparing to break it. In
vain was the celebration of the national festivals
forbidden, and the masters and scholars prohibited,
under pain of the greater excommunication, from
*« going about dancing in the churches or open places,
wearing masks or wreathed and garlanded with
dowers55 (1250). In vain was it decreed that the
two nations should become one and cease, officially,
to have a separate existence (1274). Though the
Faculty of Arts might vote from this time forward
as a single body, yet one Proctor was always a
Borealis and the other an Australis; and when, in
1320, it was decreed that one of the three guardians
of the Rothbury Chest should always be a Southerner
and another a Northerner, the University admitted
the existence of the two rival nations within its
borders once more. Only a few years after this,
in fact ('1334), its very existence was threatened by
the violence of the factions. The Northerners gave
battle to the Southerners, and so many rioters were
arrested that the Castle was filled to overflowing.
Many of the more studious clerks resolved to quit
this riotous University for ever, and betook themselves
to Stamford, where there were already some flourishing
schools.
They were compelled at last to disperse or to
return by the King, who refused to listen to their
plea, that their right to study in peace at Stamford
was as good as that of any other person whatever
who chose to live there. So serious was this secession,
231
 Oxford and its Story

and so much was the rivalry of Stamford feared, that

ail candidates for a degree were henceforth (till 1827)
required to swear that they would not give or attend
lectures there “ as in a University.”
It was on the occasion of this migration that the
members of Brasenose Hall, which adjoined S. Mary’s
Entry, Salesbury Hall, Little University Hall and
Jussefs Tenement, carried with them, as a symbol
of their continuity, the famous Brazen Nose Knocker
to Stamford. There the little society settled; an
archway of the hall they occupied there still exists,
and now belongs to Brasenose College. The knocker
itself was brought back in 1890 to a place of honour
in the college hall. For in the meantime the old
hall, after a career of over two hundred years, had
been converted into a college, founded by William
Smyth, Bishop of Lincoln, and Master Sotton, very
much as a protest against the new learning which was
then being encouraged at Corpus Christi. The con¬
tinuity of the society is indicated by the fact that the*
first Principal of the college was the last Principal of '
the old u Aula Regia de Brasinnose.” The foundation
stone was laid in 1509, as the inscription in the old
quadrangle, to which a storey was added in the time
of James L, records.
The Chapel, begun in 1656, is said to have been
designed by Sir Christopher Wren. The beautiful
fan tracery of the ceiling and the would-be Gothic
windows blend curiously with the new Italian style.
(Seepp, 348, 386).
They were a turbulent crew, these Oxonian for¬
bears of ours. Dearly they loved a fight, and they
rose in rebellion against the masters when they were
bringing in new statutes for the preservation of the
peace. Several were slain on both sides. Nor was
it easy to punish the unruly students. Sometimes,
Jbe Medieval Student

after a brawl in which they were dearly in the wrong,

the delinquents would flee to Shotover and there
maintain themselves in the forest. At other times,
when they had gone too far, and the thunder of the .
Chancellor’s sentence of excommunication had fallen
on their heads as a punishment for attempting to sack
the Abbev of Abingdon, or defiling the Church of S.
Marv with bloodshed, for sleeping in a tavern, or
fianting with the King’s foresters, they would simply
leave the University altogether and get away scath-
less. For the Chancellor’s jurisdiction did not extend
beyond Oxford.
A joust or tourney was a certain cause of riot.
The passions are easily roused after any athletic contest,
whether' it be a football match or a bull-fight. Re¬
membering this, we shall best be able to understand
whv the King found it necessary to forbid any joust
or tournament to be held in the vicinity of Oxford or
Cambridge (1305).
a Yea, such was the clashing of swords/’ says Fuller, te the
rattling of arms, the sounding of trumpets, the neighing of
horses.&the shouting of men all day time with the roaring of
riotous revellers all the night, that the scholars' studies were
disturbed, safety endangered, lodging straitened, charges
enlarged.* . . . Where Mars keeps his terms, there the
Muses may even make their vacation.”

Any excuse, indeed, was good enough to set the

whole town in an uproar. A bailiff would hustle a
student; a tradesman would “ forestall ” and retail
provisions at a higher price than the regulations
allowed; a rowdy student would compel a common
bedesman to pray for the souls of certain unpopular
living townsmen on the score that they would soon
be. dead. The bailiffs would arrest a clerk and refuse
to give him up at the request of the Chancellor; the
Chancellor, when appealed to by the townsmen to
233
 Oxford and its Story

punish some offending students, would unsoothingly re¬

tort ; “ Chastise your laymen and we will chastise our
clerks/5 The records of town and University are full
of the riots which arose from such ebullitions of the
ever-present ill-feeling ; of the appeals made by either
party; and of the awards given by the King, who
might be some English Justinian, like Edward L, or
might not.
The answer of the townsmen (1298) to the Chan¬
cellor’s retort quoted above was distinctly vigorous.
They seized and imprisoned all scholars on whom
they could lay hands, invaded their inns, made havoc
of their goods and trampled their books under foot.
In the face of such provocation the Proctors sent their
bedels about the town, forbidding the students to leave
their inns. But all commands and exhortations were
in vain. By nine o’clock next morning, bands of
scholars - were parading the streets in martial array.
If the Proctors failed to restrain them, the mayor
was equally powerless to restrain his townsmen. The
great bell of S. Martin’s rang out an alarm ; ox-horns
were sounded in the streets; messengers were sent into
the country to collect rustic allies. The clerks, who
numbered three thousand in all, began their attack
simultaneously in various quarters. They broke open
warehouses in the Spicery, the Cutlery and elsewhere.
Armed with bows and arrows, swords and bucklers,
slings and stones, they fell upon their opponents.
Three they slew, and wounded fifty or more. One
band, led by Fulk de Neyrmit, Rector of Piglesthorne,
and his brother, took up a position in High Street
between the Churches of S. Mary and All Saints’, and
attacked the house of a certain Edward Hales. This
Hales was a long-standing enemy of the clerks. There
were no half measures with him. He seized his cross¬
bow, and from an upper chamber sent an unerring shaft
234
fbe Medieval Student

into the eye of the pugnacious rector. The death of

their valiant leader caused the clerks to lose heart.
Thev fled, closely pursued by the townsmen and
country-folk. Some were struck down in the streets,
and others who had taken refuge in the churches were
dragged out and driven mercilessly to prison, lashed
with thongs and goaded with iron spikes.
Complaints of murder, violence and robbery were
lodged straightway with the King by both parties.
The townsmen claimed three thousand pounds" damage.
The commissioners, however, appointed to decide the
matter, condemned them to pay two hundred marks,
removed the bailiffs, and banished twelve of the most
turbulent citizens from Oxford. Then the terms of
peace were formally ratified.
Following the example of their Chancellor, who
was gradually asserting his. authority more and more
in secular matters, and thought little of excommuni¬
cating a mayor for removing a pillory without his leave
.(1325), the clerks became continually more aggressive.
Quarrels with the townsmen were succeeded by quarrels
with the Bishop of Lincoln, when the latter, in his
. turn, tried to encroach upon the jurisdiction of the
Chancellor. ■ When the excitement of the local riots,
theological disputes and political dissension failed, there
were the exactions of a Papal representative to ^be
resisted. And when such resistance led to the citation
of the Chancellor and Proctors and certain masters to
appear within sixty days before the Cardinal appointed
by the Pope to hear the case at Avignon, there was
the whole principle that no Englishman should be
dragged across the seas to judgment to be fought for
{area 1330). For every man was a politician in those
days, and the scholars of Oxford not least. Their
quarrels and riotings were therefore not without political
significance. Thus when the Mad Parliament met in
235
 Oxford and its Story

the "new house of the Black Friars of Oxford,” the

behaviour of the barons was reflected by that of students.
The u nations ” pitched their'field in tfi Beaumont,”
and after a fierce fight in battle array, divers on both
sides were slain ' and pitifully wounded. The
Northerners and W elshmen were at last acknowledged
to be conquerors. 6
The position of the students with regard to the
country, is indicated by the old rhyme:
iC Mark the Chronicles aright
When Oxford scholars fall to fight
Before many months expired
England will with war be fired.’9
^ It. was Gxxord, the centre of English ecclesiasticism,
which, by the riot that hounded the Papal Legate out
of the city, gave the signal for a widespread outbreak
of resistance to the wholesale pillage of excessive Papal
taxation. Regardless of the gathering storm, the
Legate Cardinal Otho had arrived at Oxford with his
retinue of Italians, and taken up his abode at Osney.
Some members of the University, having sent him
some delicacies for his table, went to pay their respects
in person, and to ask of him a favour in return. The
doorkeeper, however, a suspicious Italian, absolutely
refused to admit them to the ■ guests’ hall. Irritated
by this unexpected rebuff, they collected a great
number of their .comrades, and made a determined
attack on the foreigners, who defended themselves with
sticks, swords and flaming brands plucked from the
fire. The fury of the clerk reached its height when
the .Legate’s chief cook took up a cauldron full of
boiling broth, and threw its contents in the face of a
poor Irish chaplain, who had been begging for food at
the kitchen door. A student thereupon drew his bow
and shot the cook dead on the spot, whilst others tried
to set fire to the massive gates which had been closed
236
-Jbe Me diaval Student

against them. The terrified Legate, hastily putting

on a canonical cope, fled for refuge to the belfry of the
abbey, and there lay hid for several hours, while the
clerks assailed the building with bows and catapults.
News of the fray soon reached Henry 11L, who
happened to be staying at Abingdon, and he lost no
time in despatching some soldiers to the rescue. Under
their powerful .escort the Legate managed to ford the
river by night, accompanied by the members of his
suite. Still as he galloped away, he seemed to hear
the shouts of his adversaries ringing in his ears,
“Where is that usurer, that simoniac, that spoiler of
revenues, and thirster after money, who perverts the
King, overthrows the realm, and enriches strangers
with plunder taken from us ? ”
It was not long before the Papal Legate was for¬
bidden the English shores, and his bulls of excom¬
munication were flung into the sea.
Simon de Montfort was the friend of Adam Marsh,
and the confidant of Grossetete, and it was appropriately
enough at Oxford that the great champion of English
freedom secured the appointment of a council of
twenty-four to draw up terms for the reform of the
State. Parliament met at Oxford ; the barons pre¬
sented a long petition of grievances, the .council was
elected, and a body of preliminary articles known as
the Provisions of Oxford was agreed upon. ' In the
following year Henry repudiated the Provisions; civil
war ensued, and ended by placing the country in -the
hands of Simon de Montfort.
The struggle between-Henry and the barons then
did not leave Oxford unaffected. For any disturbance
without was sure to be reflected in a conflict between
clerks and laymen, in a town and gown rows of some
magnitude. In the-present case the appearance - of
Prince-Edward with an-armed force—he took up his
237
 Oxford and its Story

quarters at the King’s Hall—in the northern suburb

gave occasion for an outbreak. The municipal
authorities closed the gates against him, and he resumed
his march towards Wales.
The scholars now thought it was time that they
should be allowed to go out of the city, and finding them¬
selves prevented by the closed wooden doors of Smith
Gate, they hewed these down and carried them away,
like Samson, into the fields, chanting over them the
office of the dead:
*•’ A Subvenite Sancti fast began to slug
As man doth when a dead man men will to pit bring.”

The mayor- retorted by throwing some of them into

prison, in spite of the Chancellor’s protest. Further
arrests were about to be made by the irate townsmen,
but a clerk saw them, advancing in a body down the
High Street, and gave the alarm by ringing the bell of
S. Mary’s. The clerks were at dinner, but hearing
the well-known summons they sprang to arms and
rushed out into the street to give battle. Many of the
foe were wounded; the rest were put to flight. Their
bannerswere tom to pieces,and several shops were sacked
by the victorious students, who, flushed with victory,
marched to the houses of the bailiffs and set them on
fire.
lt In the South.half of the town, and afterwards the Spicery
They break from end to other, and did all to robberie.”

The mayor, they then remembered, was a vintner.

Accordingly a rush was made for the vintnery; all the
taps were drawn, and the wine flowed out like water
into the streets.
Their success for a moment was complete, but re¬
tribution awaited them. The King was appealed to,
and refused to countenance so uproarious a vindication
of their rights.. When they saw how the wind blew,
238
cjThe Med'uzval Student

they determined to leave Oxford. It was a question

whither they should go and where pitch their scholastic
tents. Now it happened that at Cambridge, a town
which had ceased to be famous only for eels and could
boast a flourishing University of its own, similar dis¬
turbances had recently occurred with similar results.
Many masters and scholars had removed to Northamp¬
ton, and to Northampton accordingly, to aid them in
their avowed intention of founding a third University,
the disconsolate Oxford scholars departed. The
situation was evidently serious. But the King induced
the Oxonians to return by promising that they should
not be molested if they would only keep the peace.
They returned, but almost immediately all scholars
were commanded by a writ from the King to quit the
town and stay at home until he should recall them
after the session of Parliament then about to be held at
Oxford. The King, it was. officially explained, could
not be responsible for the conduct of the fierce and un¬
tamed lords who would be assembled together there
and would be sure to come into conflict with the
students. Perhaps the more urgent motive was fear
lest the students should openly and actively side with
the barons, with whom, it was known, the majority of
them were in sympathy.
The fact was that in the great struggle against the
Crown in which England was now involved, the clergy
and the Universities ranged themselves with the towns
on the side of Simon de Montfor*. Ejected from
Oxford, many of the students openly joined his cause
and repaired at once to Northampton.
For a time all went well with the King. As if to
demonstrate his faith in the justice of his cause, he
braved, popular superstition and passing within the walls
of Oxford paid his devotions at the shrine of S.
Frideswide. The meeting oP Parliament failed to
239
 Oxford and its Story

bring about any reconciliation,, Reinforced by a de¬

tachment of Scottish allies—“ untamed and fierce”
enough, ^no doubt—Henry left Oxford and marched
on Northampton. Foremost in its defence was a band
of Oxford students, who so enraged the King by the
effective use they made of their bows and slings and
catapults, that he swore to hang them all when
he had taken the town. Take the town he did
and he would have kept his oath had he not been de- -
terred by the reminder that he would by such an act
lose the support of all those nobles and followers whose
sons and kinsmen were students. But the victorious
career of the King was almost at an end. The vengeance
of S. Frideswide was wrought at the battle of Lewes.
Simon de ^Montfort found himself head of the State
and one of his first acts was to order the scholars to
return to their University.
Such keen, occasionally violent, interest in politics
seems, m these days, characteristic of the,. German or
Russian rather than the English University student
Nowadays the political enthusiasm of the undergraduate
is mild, and his discussion of politics is academic
In the debating hall of the Union (New Inn Hall
Street), or in the more retired meeting-places of the
smaOer political dubs, like the Canning, the Chatham,
the Palmerston or the Russell, he discusses the questions
of the. day. But his discussions lack as a rule the
sense of reality, and they suffer accordingly. Occa¬
sionally, when a Cabinet Minister has been persuaded
to dme and talk with one or other of these clubs or
when the speaker is one who is deliberately practising
for: the-part ^ he means to take-in after-life, the de- .
hates are neither uninteresting nor entirely valueless.
And at the worst they give those who take part in
them a facility of speech and some knowledge of
pohtical questions.. But it is not so that the Univer-
240
7he Medieval Student

sity exercises any influence on current events. It is

through the press and through Parliament that the
voice of young Oxford is heard. It is through the
minds and the examples of those statesmen and adminis¬
trators, who have imbibed their principles of life and
action within her precincts, and hare been trained in her
schools and on her river or playing-fields, that the
influence of the University is reflected on the outer
world. Nor is it only the men like Lord Salisbury,
Lord Rosebery and Mr Gladstone, who guide the
country at home, or like Lord Milner and Lord
Curzon, who give their best work to Greater Britain,
that are the true sons of the University ; it is the plain,
hard-working clergymen and civilians, also, who, by
their lives of honest and unselfish toil, hand on the
torch of good conduct and high ideals which has been
entrusted to them.
Oxford had some share in the events which led to
the deposition of Edward II. The King wrote to
the Chancellor, masters and scholars calling upon
them to resist his enemies. On the approach of Roger
de Mortimer, a supporter of the Queen, he wrote again
enjoining them not to allow him to enter the city, but
to keep Smith Gate shut, lest he should enter by that
way. But when the King was a refugee in Wales,
the Queen came to Islip. She would not come to
Oxford till “ she saw it secured5 But when the
burghers came to her with presents she was satisfied.
She took up her residence at the White Friars, and
the Mortimers theirs at Osney. And a sermon was
preached by the Bishop of Hereford, who demonstrated
from his text, “ My head grieveth me,55 that an evil
head, meaning the King, not otherwise to be cured,
must be taken away. The majority of scholars
apparently agreed with him.
The terrible scourge of the Black Death, which
Q 241
 Oxford and its Story

carried off half the population of England, fell hardly

on Oxford. Those who had places in the country
fied to them ; those who remained behind .were almost
totally swept away. The schools were shut, the
colleges and halls closed, and there were scarcely
men enough to bury the dead. The effect upon
learning was disastrous. There were not enough
students forthcoming to nil the benefices, and the
scarcity of students affected the citizens severely.
The disorder of the time, which was to issue in
Wat Tyler’s Rebellion, was shadowed forth at Oxford
by the extraordinary riot of S. Scholastica’s Day
(13 5 5) - The story of this riot, which was to bear
fruit in further privileges being vouchsafed to the
University at the expense of the town, has been
recorded with infinite spirit by Wood.

“On Tuesday, February io, being the feast of S.

Scholastlca the Virgin, came Waiter de Springheuse, Roger
de Chesterfield, and other clerks to the Tavern called
Swyndlestock (the Mermaid Tavern at QuatervoixV and
there calling for wine. John de Croydon, the vintner, brought
them some^but they disliking it, as it should seem, and&he
avouching It to be good, several snappish words passed
between them. At length the vintner giving them stubborn
and saucy language, they threw the wine and vessel at his
head. The vintner therefore receding with great passion
and aggravating the abuse to those of his family and neio-h-
bourhood, several came in, who out of propensed malice
seeking ail occasions of conflict with the scholars, and tak¬
ing this abuse for aground to proceed upon, caused the town
bell at S. Martin’s to be rang, that the commonalty mio-ht
be summoned together in a body. Which being begun, they
In an instant were in arms, some with bows and arrows,
others with divers sorts of weapons. And then they, with¬
out any more ado, did in a furious and hostile manner
suddenly set upon divers scholars, who at that time had not
any offensive arms, no, not so much as anything to defend
themselves. They shot also at the Chancellor of the
University, and would have killed him, though he
endeavoured to pacify them and appease the tumult. Further,
24.2
The Mediaval Student

also, though the scholars at the command of the Chancellor

did presently withdraw themselves from the fray, yet the
townsmen thereupon did more fiercely pursue him and the
scholars, and would by no means desist from the conflict.
The Chancellor, perceiving what great danger they were in,
caused, the University bell at S. Mary’s to be rung out,
whereupon the scholars got bows and arrows, and main¬
tained the fight with the townsmen till dark night, at
which time the fray ceased, no one scholar or townsman
being killed, or mortally wounded, or maimed.
- “On the next day albeit the Chancellor of the University
caused public proclamation to be made in the morning both
at S. Mary’s Church in the presence of the scholars there
assembled in a great multitude, and also at Ouatervois
among the townsmen, that no scholar or townsman should
wear or bear any offensive weapons, or assault any man, or
otherwise disturb the peace (upon which the scholars, in
humble obedience to that proclamation, repaired to the
Schools, and demeaned themselves peaceably till after dinner)
yet the very same morning the townsmen came with their
bows and arrows, and drove away a certain Master In
Divinity and his auditors, who were then determining in
the Augustine Schools. The Baillives of the town also had
given particular warning to every townsman, at his re¬
spective house, in the morning, that they should make
themselves ready to fight with the scholars 'against the time
when the town bell should ring out, and also given notice
before to the country round about, and had hired people to
come in and assist the townsmen in their intended conflict
with the scholars. In dinner time the townsmen subtily
and secretly sent about fourscore men armed with bows and
arrows, and other manner of weapons into the parish of
S. Giles in the north suburb ; who, after a little expectation,
having discovered certain scholars walking after dinner in
Beaumont, issued out of S. Giles’s church, shooting at the
same scholars for the space of three furlongs: some of them
they drove Into the Augustine Priory, and others into the
town. One scholar they killed without the walls, some
they wounded mortally, others grievously, and'used the rest
basely. All which being done without any mercy, caused
an horrible outcry in the town: whereupon the town bell
being rung out first, and after that the University bell,
divers scholars issued out armed with bows and arrows in
their own defence and of their companions, and having first
shut and blocked up some of the gates of the town (lest the
243
 Oxford and its Story

country people, who were then gathered in innumerable

multitudes, might suddenly break in upon their rear in an
hostile manner and assist the townsmen who were now
ready prepared in battle array, and armed with their targets
also) they fought with them and defended themselves till
after Vesper tide: a little after which time, entered into the
town by the west gate about two thousand countrymen,
with a black dismal flag, erect and displayed. Of which
the scholars having notice, and being unable to resist so
great and fierce a company, they withdrew themselves' to
their lodgings: but the townsmen finding no scholars in
the streets to make any opposition, pursued them, and that
day they broke open five inns or hostels of scholars with fire
and sword. Such scholars as they found in the said halls or
inns they killed or maimed, or grievously wounded. Their
books and all their goods which they could find, they spoiled,
plundered and carried away. Ail their victuals, wine and
other drink they poured out; their bread, fish, See, they trod
under foot. After this the night came on and the conflict
ceased for that day, and the same even public proclamation
was made in Oxen, in the King’s name, £ that no man should
injure the scholars or their goods under pain of forfeiture.’
44
The next day being Thursday (after the Chancellor and
some principal persons of the University were set out
towards Woodstock to.the King, who had sent for them
thither) no one scholar or scholar’s servant so much as
appearing out of their houses with any intention to harm
the townsmen, or,offer any injury to them (as they them¬
selves confessed) yet the said townsmen about sun rising,
having rung out their bell, assembled themselves together
in a numberless multitude, desiring to heap mischief upon
mischief, and to perfect by a more terrible conclusion that
wicked enterprize which they had begun. This being done,
they with hideous noises and clamours came and invaded
the scholars’ houses in a wretchless sort, which they forced
open with iron bars and other engines; and entering into
them, those that resisted and stood upon their defence
(particularly some chaplains) they killed or else in a
grievous sort maimed. Some innocent wretches, after they
had killed, they scornfully cast into houses of easement,
others they buried in dunghills, and some they let lie above
ground. The crowns of some chaplains, viz. all the skin so
far as the tonsure went, these diabolical imps flayed off in
scorn of their clergy. Divers others whom they had mortally
wounded, they haled to prison, carrying their entrails in
. 244
The Medieval Student

their hands in a most lamentable manner. They plundered

and carried away all the goods out of fourteen inns or halls,
which they spoiled that Thursday.. They broke open and
dashed to pieces the scholars’ chests and left not any move-
able thing which might stand them in any stead ; and which
was yet more horrid, some poor innocents that were flying
with ail speed to the body of Christ for succour (then
honourably carried in procession by the brethren through
the town for the appeasing of this slaughter) and striving
to embrace and come as near as they could to the repository
wherein the glorious Body was with great devotion put,
these confounded sons of Satan knocked them down, beat
and most cruelly wounded. The Crosses also of certain
brethren (the friers) which were erected on the ground for
4
the present time with a procul bine ite profani / they over¬
threw and laid fiat with the cheynell. This wickedness
and outrage continuing the said day from the rising of the
sun till noon tide and a little after without any ceasing,
and thereupon all the scholars (besides those of the Colleges)
being fled divers ways, our mother the University of Gxon,
which had but two days before many sons, is now.almost
forsaken and left forlorn.'”
The casualty list was heavy. Six members of the
University were killed outright in the fray ; twenty-
one others, chiefly Irishmen, were dangerously wounded
and a large number was missing. The Bishop of
Lincoln immediately placed the town under an inter¬
dict. The King sent a commission to inquire into the
cause of the riot. The sheriff was summarily dis¬
missed from his office, two hundred of the townsmen
were arrested, and the mayor and bailiffs committed to
the Tower. With a view to settling the deep-rooted
differences, which, it was perceived, were the origin
of this bloody combat, the University and the city
were advised to surrender their privileges into the
King’s hands. Edward III. restored those of the
University in a few days. The town was kept some
time in suspense, whilst the King and the Ai chbishop
were .striving to induce the scholars to return to Oxford.
In the end all their ancient rights were restored to the
245
 Oxford and its Story

citizens, with the exception of those which had been

transferred to the University. For by the new charter
the King granted to the latter some of the old liberties
of the town.
This charter {27th June 1355) granted a free
pardon to all masters and scholars and their servants
who had taken part in the great riot. The University,
the King declared, was the main source, and channel
of learning in all England, more precious to him than
gold or topaz. To the Chancellor, then, or his
deputy, was granted the assay of bread and ale, the
supervision of weights and measures, the sole cognis¬
ance of forestalled, retailers and sellers of putrid meat
and fish ; the power of excommunicating any person
who polluted or obstructed the streets, and of assessing
the tax to be paid by scholars5 servants. It was also
decreed that the sheriff and under-sheriff of the country
should henceforth swear, on taking office, to uphold
the privileges of the University. In compensation for
the damage done in the recent riot, the city had to
restore the goods and books of all scholars wherever
found, and to pay down ^250 in cash. Such was
the price, in money and rights, that the commonalty
had to pay before they could satisfy the civil authorities.
From that time forth the University practically
governed the town. The wrath of the Church was
not so soon appeased. It was not till 1357 that the
interdict was removed, nor were the offences of the
citizens against the Holy Church forgiven even then,
except at the price of further humiliation. The mayor
and bailiffs, and sixty of the chiefest burghers, such were
the conditions, were to appear personally, and defray
the expenses of a mass to be celebrated every year in
S. Mary’s on S. Scholastica’s Day, when prayers
should be said for the souls of the clerks and others
slain in that conflict. The mayor and these sixty
246
The Mediaeval Student

substantial burghers were also to offer on that occasion

one penny each at the great altar. Forty pence out
of this offering were to be given by the proctors to
forty poor scholars, and the remainder to the curate.
So humiliating did this condition appear, that it
gave rise to the popular saying and, perhaps, belief that
the mayor was obliged, on the anniversary of the riot,
to wear round his neck a halter or, at best, a .silken
cord. It may well be imagined that the procession,
as it. took its way to S. Mary’s, did not escape the
taunts and jeers of the jubilant clerks. Under Eliza¬
beth, when prayer for the dead had been forbidden,
this function was changed for a sermon, with the old
offering,,of a penny. The service was retained in a
modified form down to the time of Charles If.
The political and religious divisions introduced by
the Lollard doctrines found their expression, of course,
in students’ riots. For the Northerners sided with
Wycliffe, himself a Yorkshireman, and the Southerners,
supported by the Welsh, professed themselves loyal
children of the Church. A general encounter took
place in i 388 ; several persons were killed, and many
Northerners left Oxford. The Chancellor was de¬
posed by Parliament for failing to do his duty in
the matter. The strife was renewed at the be¬
ginning of Lent next year. A pitched battle was
arranged to be fought between the contending parties
in the open country. This was only prevented by the
active interference of the Luke of Gloucester. Some
turbulent Welshmen were expelled. But this banish¬
ment only gave rise to a fresh outbreak. For as the
Welshmen knelt down to kiss the gates of the town,
they were subjected to gross indignities by their
exultant adversaries. And a party of Northerners,
headed by a., chaplain named Speeke, paraded the
streets in military array threatening to kill anyone who
247
 Oxford and its Story

looked out of the window, and shouting, tc War, war.

Slay the Welsh dogs and their whelps.55 Halls were
broken open, and the goods of Welsh scholars who
lodged there were plundered. The Welshmen re¬
taliated, and the University only obtained peace, when,
on the outbreak of Owen Glengower’s rebellion, the
Welsh scholars returned to Wales.
The effect of the lawlessness of these mediaeval
students upon the history of the University was con¬
siderable. It is reflected in. the statute book. It came
to be recognised that their riotous behaviour was not
only scandalous but also a veritable danger, which
threatened the very existence of Oxford as a seat of
learning. Politically, too, their behaviour was in¬
tolerable. Each outbreak, therefore, and each revela¬
tion of the licence of unattached students, who were
credited with the chief share in these brawls, were
arguments in favour of the college system inaugurated
by the founder of Merton College.
As earl? as 1250 it had been found necessary to
provide that every scholar should have his own master,
on whose roll his name should be entered, and from
whom he should hear at least one lecture daily. And
in 1420 Henry V. issued some ordinances for aca¬
demical reform, with the object of tightening the bonds
of discipline. They were reduced to a statute of the
University immediately. Fines were imposed for
threats of personal violence, carrying weapons, pushina
with the shoulder or striking with the list, striking
with a stone or club, striking with a knife, dagger,
sword-axe or other warlike weapon, earning bows
and arrows, gathering armed men, and resisting the
execution of justice, especially by night.
All scholars and scholars5 servants, it was enacted,
were, 00 first coming to Oxford, to take the oath for
keeping the peace, which had hitherto been taken by
248
The Mediaval Student

graduates only ; they were no longer to lodge in the

houses of laymen, but must place themselves under the
government of some discreet principal, approved by the
Chancellor and regents. Chamberdekens were to
lodge at a hall where some common table was kept.
Thus the 44 unattached student/5 who has been recently
revived, was legislated out of existence.
It is not, then, surprising to find that, whilst the
thirteenth century saw the beginning of the college
system, the fourteenth was the era which saw its
great development. Already, sixteen years after the
foundation of Oriel, a North Country priest, Robert
Eglesfield, chaplain of Queen Philippa, had antici¬
pated in conception the achievement of William of
Wykeham by proposing to establish a college which
should be a Merton on a larger scale. But the ideas
of the founder of Queen’s were greater than his re¬
sources. In the hope of assistance, therefore, and not
in vain, he commended his foundation to the Queen
and all future Queens-con sort of England. He him¬
self devoted his closing years and all his fortune to the
infant society, for whose guidance he drew up statutes
of an original character. His aim seems to have been
to endow a number of students of Theology or Canon
Law ; to provide for the elementary education of many
poor boys, and for the distribution of alms to the poor
of the city. The ecclesiastical character of the college
was marked by the endowment of several chaplains,
and by precise directions for the celebration of masses,
at which the 44poor boys55 were to assist as choristers,
besides being trained in Grammar and afterwards in
Logic or Philosophy. The bent of Eglesfield’s mind
is further indicated by the symbolism .which pervades
his ordinances. The fellowships, which were tenable
for life and intended to be well endowed, were practi¬
cally restricted to natives of the North Country. And
249
 Oxford and its Story

as there had been twelve apostles, so it was ordained

that there sr.ould be twelve fellows, who should sit in
halloo. one side of the High Table, with the provost
in their centre, even as Christ and His apostles, ac¬
cording to tradition, sat at the Last Supper. And,
as a symbol of the Saviour's blood, they were required
.to wear mantles of crimson cloth. The a poor boys,"
who were to sit at a side-table clad in a distinctive
dress, from which they derived their name of tabarders,
and^ who were to be £i opposed " or examined by one
of the fellows at the beginning of every meal, symbolised
the Seventy Disciples.
Some traces of the symbolism which pleased the
founder still survive at Queen's. The students are
still summoned to hall, as the founder directs, by the
blasts of a trumpet ; still on Christmas Day the college
celebrates the CcBoar’s Head" dinner (see p. 25);
stilly on January 1st the Bursar presents to each guest
at the Gaudy a needle and thread (aiguille et hi_
Eglesficld), saying “ Take this and be thrifty." And
the magnificent wassail cup given to the college by the
founder is still in use. But of the original buildings
scarcely anything remains. The old entrance ■ in
Queen's Lane has been supplanted by the front quad¬
rangle opening on the ffigh (1710-1730), in which
Hawksmoor, Wren's pupil, achieved a fine example
of the Italian style. Wren himself designed the
chapel. The magnificent library in the back quad¬
rangle (late seventeenth century) is housed in a room,
which, with its rich planter ceiling and carving by
Grinling Gibbons, is a remarkable specimen of the
ornate classical style.
Eglesfield had attempted a task beyond his means.
Forty years later "William of W^ykeham adopted his
ideas, developed them and carried them out.' It is the
scale on which he founded S. Mary College, or New
250
7he Mediaeval Student
College, as it has been called for five hundred years to
distinguish it from Oriel, the other S. Mary College,
and the completeness of its arrangements that mark an
era in the history of college foundations. Son of a
carpenter at Wickham, William had picked up the
rudiments of education at a grammar school and in a
notary’s office. Presently he entered the King's
service. He was promoted to be Supervisor of the
works at Windsor ; and made the most of his oppor¬
tunity. Hoc fecit Wyheham were the words he inscribed,
according to the legend, on the walls of the castle at
Windsor; and it is equally true that he made it and
that it made him, for so, to stop the mouths of his
calumniators, he chose to translate the phrase. The
King marked the admirable man of affairs ; and re¬
warded him, according to custom, with innumerable
benefices. Wykeham became the greatest pluralist of
•his age. He grew in favour at court, until soon
u everything was done by him and nothing was done
without him.” He was u so wise of building castles,3’
as Wvcliffe sarcastically hinted, that he was appointed
Bishop of Winchester and Chancellor' of England.
Yet in the midst of the cares of these offices he found
time (1370) to set about establishing his college. His
great genius as an architect, and his astonishing powers
of administration under two kings, point him out as
one of the greatest Englishmen of the Middle Ages.
He has left his mark on his country, not only in such
architectural achievements as W indsor and Queen-
borough Castles, the reconstruction of the nave of
Winchester Cathedral (where is his altar tomb) or the
original plan of his Collegiate Buildings, but aho as the
founder of the public school system and the new type
of college.
It was as a lawyer-ecclesiastic that he had succeeded.
But it was against the administration of ecclesiastical
251
 Oxford and its Story

statesmen that the discontent of the time was being

directed by the Wycliffites and John of Gaunt..
Himself a staunch supporter of the old regime in
Church and State, Wykeham set himself to remedy its
defects and to provide for its maintenance as well as
for his own soul’s health after death.
Oxford had reached the height of its prosperity in
the fourteenth century. Then the Black Death, the
decadence of the Friars, the French Wars, the
withdrawal of foreign students and the severance of the
ties between English and foreign Universities, com¬
menced a decay which was accelerated by the decline
of the ecclesiastical monopoly of learning, by the
Wyciiffite movement and, later, by the Wars of the
Roses.
Wykeham marked some of these causes and their
effect. He believed in himself, and therefore in the
Canon Law and lawyer-ecclesiastics; he noted the
falling off in the number of the students, and therefore
of the clergy, caused by the Black Death ; he knew
the poverty of those who wished to study, and the
weak points in the system of elementary education.
He wished to encourage a secular clergy who should
fight the Wycliffites and reform the Church. There¬
fore he determined to found a system by which they
might be trained, and by which the road to success
might be opened to the humblest youths—a system
which should pay him in return the duty of perpetual
prayers for his soul.1
As early as i 370, then, he began to buy land about
the north-eastern corner of the city wall ; and ten
years later, having obtained licence from Richard II.,
1 His pastoral staff of silver gilt, adorned with fine enamels,
survives, and is carried before the Bishop of Winchester
whenever he comes to visit the college. A good portrait ot
the Founder hangs in the Warden’s lodgings. See Frontis¬
piece,
252
The Med'ueval Student

.he enclosed a filthy lane that ran alongside the north

wall and began to build a home for the warden,
■seventy scholars, ten stipendiary priests or chaplains,
three stipendiary clerks and sixteen chorister boys of
whom his college was to be composed. Eglesfield had
proposed to establish seventy-two young scholars on
his foundation. Wykeham borrowed and improved
upon the idea. He provided a separate college for
them at Winchester, and in so doing he took a step
which has proved to be of quite incalculable con¬
sequence in the history of the moral and intellectual
development of this country. For he founded the
first English public school.
From the scholars of Winchester, when they had
reached at least the age of fifteen years, and from them
only, the seventy scholars of 4£ S. Marie College ”
were to be chosen by examination. A preference was
riven to the founder’s kin and the natives of certain
dioceses. These young scholars, if they were not
disqualified by an income of over five marks or by
bodily "deformity, entered at once upon the course in
Arts, and, after two years of probation and if approved
by examination, might be admitted true and perpetual
fellows. Small wonder if golden scholars became
sometimes silver bachelors and leaden masters I
A fellow’s allowance was a shilling a week for
commons and an annual 4< livery.” But it was pro¬
vided that each young scholar should study for his
first three years under the supervision of one of the
fellows, who was to receive for each pupil five shillings.
This was a new step in the development of the college
system. Though designed merely to supplement the
lectures of the regents in the schools, the new provision
of tutors was destined to supplant them. Another
step of far-reaching consequence taken by Wykeham
was the acquisition of benefices in the country, college
253
 Oxford and its Story

livings to which a fellow could retire when he had

resided long enough or failed to obtain other
preferment.
The government of the college was not entrusted to
the voung fellows, but to the warden, sub-warden, five
deans, three bursars and a few senior fellows. But
even the youngest of the fellows was entitled to vote
on the election of a warden.
The warden of this new foundation was to be a
person of no small importance. Wykeham intended
him to live in a separate house, with a separate establish¬
ment and an income fjfqo) far more splendid than
the pittance assigned to the Master of Balliol or even
the Warden of Merton. The buildings of Merton
had been kept separate; only by degrees, and as if
by accident, had they assumed the familiar and charm¬
ing form of a quadrangle. The genius of Wykeham
adopted and adapted the fortuitous plan of Merton.
At New College we have for the frst time a group
of collegiate buildings, tower-gateway1 chapel, hall,
library, treasury, warden’s lodgings, chambers, cloister-
cemetery, kitchen and domestics’ offices, designed and
comprised in one self-sufficing quadrangle (1380-
1400). Just as the statutes of New College are the
rule of Merton enormously elaborated, so the plan of
the buildings is that of Merton modified and systematised.
The type of New College served as a model for all
subsequent foundations. The most noticeable features
in this arrangement are that the hall and chapel are
under one roof, and that the chapel consists of a
choir, suitable to the needs of a small congregation,
and of a nave of two bays, stopping short at the
transepts, and forming an ante-chapel which might
1 Over the gateway are statues of the founder and the
Angel Gabriel kneeling on either side of a statue of the
Virgin .Mary.
.254 . ,
Tbe Medieval Student

serve both as a vestibule and as a room for lectures

and disputations. The chapel, which contains much
very beautiful glass1 and the lovely if inappropriate

i ln the ante chapel and in the heads of windows of the

chapel much of the Founder’s glass, extremely beautiful
in tone, colour and design, is preserved. The beautiful
soaring arches of the ante-chapel are lit by this exquisite
fourteenth century glass, set in windows which present
a very early form of the Perpendicular style. The good seven¬
teenth century glass on the south side of the chapel is Flemish.
255..
 Oxford and its Story

window-pictures of the Seven Virtues1 by Sir Joshua

Reynolds, must have been in Wykeham’s day, when
it was adorned with a magnificent reredos and works
of manv colour3,” a thing of even greater beauty than
it now is.2 The chapels of Magdalen, All Souls’
and Wad ham were directly imitated from it. But,
with the hall, approached by a flight of steps in the
Muniment Tower, it suffered much at the hands of
Wyatt and Sir Gilbert Scott. The latter was also
responsible for the atrocious New Buildings. The
proportions of the front quadrangle were spoilt by the
addition of a third storey and the insertion of square
windows in the seventeenth century. The massive
Bell-tower—the tower assuredly of one u wise of
building castles ”—was the last work of the Founder.
The importance of the chapel architecturally,
dominating the quadrangle as it does and absorbing
the admiration of the visitor or the dweller in those
courts, is indicative of the ecclesiastical aspect
of the new foundation, which the great opponent of
WyclifFe intended to revivify the Church by training
secular priests of ability. This ecclesiastical aspect is
still more prominent in the case of All Souls’, which,
like Magdalen, may fitly be described as a daughter
of New College, so much do they both owe, as
regards their rule and their architectural design, to
the great foundation of Wykeham. The deterioration
and ignorance of the parochial clergy were amongst
the most serious symptoms of the decadence of the
fifteenth century. Himself a Wykehamist and a
successful ecclesiastical lawyer, the great Archbishop
Chichele therefore followed Wykeham’s example and
founded a college which might help to educate and
to increase the secular clergy. Out of the revenues
1 Upper tier of central west window. Nativity and Adora¬
tion ; lower., Virtues (Christian) Faith, Hope, Charity ;
(Cardinal) Courage, Temperance, Justice, Wisdom, Copied
by Jervais from Reynold’s cartoons, 1777.
2 Reredos and timber roof restored XIXth century.
256
Tbe Mediaeval Student

of the suppressed alien priories he endowed a society

..consisting of a warden and forty fellows, of doctors
and masters who were to study Philosophy, Theology
and Law. His college was not, therefore, and
happily is not (though now it takes its full share of
educational work), a mere body of teachers, but or
graduate students. . The prominence given to the
study of Law and Divinity resulted in a close con¬
nection with the public services which has always been
maintained. But “ All Souls’ ” was a chantry as
well as a college. As head of the English Church
and a responsible administrator of the Crown, Chichele
had devoted all his powers to the prosecution of that
war with France, for which Shakespeare, following
Hall, has represented him as being responsible. The
college is said to have been the Archbishop’s expiation
for the blood so -shed. Whatever his motive, his
object is stated clearly enough. It was to found a
College of poor and indigent clerks bounden with all
devotion to pray for the Souls of the glorious memory of
Henry V., lately King of England and France, the Duke or
Clarence and the other lords and lieges of the realm of
England, whom the havoc of that warfare between the two
realms hath drenched with the. bowl of bitter death, and
also for the souls of all the faithful departed.”

Chichele had already undertaken the foundation of

S. Bernard’s College. He now (September 1437)
purchased Bedford Hall, or Charieton’s Inn, at the
corner of Cats Street,1 directly opposite the eastern end
1 This is the old name (cattoram vicus) of the street which
has now been made over to S. Catherine. A similar instance
of the £C.genteel” tendency to eschew monosyllables and not
to call things by their proper names is afforded by the
attempts to call Hell Passage, S. Helen’s. This is not due
to a love of Saints, but to the t£ refinement” of the middle
classes, who prefer white sugar to brown. In the Middle
Ages men. called a spade a spade. The names of the old
 Oxford and its Story

of S. Mary’s Church. On this site, in the following

February, was laid the foundation stone of the college
afterwards incorporated under the title of u The
Warden and All Soulen College,” or <c The Warden
and College of AH Faithful Souls deceased at Oxford.”
As Adam de Brome had persuaded Edward II. to be
the fester-founder of Oriel, so Chichele asked Henry
VI, to be the nominal founder of his college. The
royal patronage proved advantageous in neither case.
The front quadrangle of All Souls’ remains very
much as the founder left it; the hall and the noble
Codrington Library in the Italian style, the cloister
of the great quadrangle and the odd twin towers belong
to the first half of the eighteenth century. The latter
are curious specimens of that mixture of the Gothic
and Renaissance styles (Nicholas Hawksmoor), of
which the best that can be said is that “ the architect
has blundered into a picturesque scenery not devoid of
grandeur” (Walpole).
The political and social troubles of the fifteenth
century brought about a period of darkness and stagna¬
tion in the University. The spirit of independence
and reform had been crushed by the ecclesiastics.
Oxford had learnt her lesson. She took little part in
politics, but played the time-server, and was always
loyal—to one party or the other. She neglected her
duties; she neither taught nor thought, but devoted
ail her energies and resources to adorning herself with
beautiful colleges and buildings. And for us the result
of this meretricious policy is the possession of those
glorious buildings which mark the interval between the
Middle Ages and the Renaissance. For the University
streets In London or Paris would set a modern reader’s hair
on end. But they described the streets. At Oxford the
Quakers (1654) first settled in New Inn Hall Street, but it
was then known as the Lane of the Seven Deadly Sins.
258
The Mediaeval Student

now built herself schools that were worthy of her dower

of knowledge.
There was a vacant spot at the end of Schools Street
belonging to Baliiol College, lying between the town
wall on the north and Exeter College on the west.
On this site it was determined to erect a School of
Divinity (1424). Donations flowed in from the
bishops and monasteries.
But in spite of all economy funds ran short. The
building had to be discontinued for a while (1444).
The gift of 500 marks from the executors of Cardinal
Beaufort, a former Chancellor, enabled the graduates
to proceed with their work. They made strenuous
efforts to raise money. They put a tax on all non¬
resident masters and bachelors; they offered a graces ”
for sale; they applied to the Pope and bishops for
saleable indulgences. In return for a contribution of
one hundred pounds from the old religious orders, they
agreed to modify the ancient statutes concerning the
admission of monks to academical degrees. Some of
these methods of raising the necessary monies are
doubtless open to criticism, but we cannot cavil when
we look upon the noble building which the graduates
were thus enabled to raise. The Divinity School, to
which, Casaubon declared, nothing in Europe was
comparable, was, with its ££ vaulting of peculiar skill,”
used, though not completed, in 1466.
It remained to construct an upper storey where the
books belonging to the University might be kept and
used. For generous gifts of books (1439-1446) by
Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, uncle of Henry VI.,
had greatly increased the University Library. The
fashion of large and gorgeous libraries was borrowed
by the English from the French princes. The duke
had taken his opportunity during his campaigns in
France. He seized the valuable collection of books
259
 Oxford and its Story

at the Louvre* and many of them had now found their

way to Oxford. They were stored at first in the
Cobham Library, but 'more room was needed.
Accordingly, in 1444, the University addressed a
letter to the duke in which they informed him of their
intention to erect a new building suitable to contain his
magnificent gift, and on a site far removed from the
hum of men. Of this building, with that gratitude/
which is in part at least a lively sense of favours to
come, they asked permission of the very learned and
accomplished., duke to inscribe his name as founder.
The Duke Humphrey Library forms now the central
portion of the great Reading Room of the Bodleian
Library. It still answers, by virtue of its position and
the arrangement of its cubicles, to the description and
intention of the promotors—to build a room where
scholars might study far removed a strepiiu saculari,
from the noise of the world.
The three wheat-sheaves of the Kempe shield,
repeated again and again on the elaborate groined roof
of the Divinity School, commemorate the bounty of
Thomas Kempe, Bishop of London, who (1478)
promised to give 1000 marks for the completion of
the. school and the library. A grateful University
rewarded him with anniversary services; his name is
still mentioned in the 66 bidding prayer ” on solemn
occasions. Nor was Duke Humphrey forgotten.
His name still heads the list of benefactors recited
from'time to time in S. Mary’s. Religious services
were instituted also for his benefit. He was more in
need of them, perhaps, than the bishop. For the
<c Good Duke Humphrey ” was good only so far as
his love of learning and his generosity to scholars may
entitle him to be considered .so. . The patron of
Lydgate and Occleve, and the donor of hundreds of
rare and polite books to the University was as
260
The Medieval Student
unscrupulous in his political intrigues as immoral in his
private life. But in his case the good he did lived
after him.
The u Good Duke57 was a reader as well as a
collector. It was not merely the outsides of books or
the title-pages which attracted him.
4£ His courage never doth appal
To study in books of antiquity.”

So wrote Lydgate, who knew. Even when he pre¬

sented his books to the University, he took care to
reserve the right of borrowing them, for were they not,
according to the inscription which he was wont to
insert lovingly in them, all his worldly wealth (mon
Men mondaln) ? It is perhaps not surprising to find
from the list of books which he gave to the University,
that the duke’s taste in literature was for the Classics,
for the work of Ovid, Cato, Aulus Gellius and
Quintilian, for the speeches of Cicero, the plays of
Terence and Seneca, the works of Aristotle and Plato,
the histories of Suetonius and Josephus, of Beda and
Eusebius, Higden and Vincent of Beauvais. A fancy
for medical treatises and a pretty taste in Italian
literature are betrayed by the titles of .other books, for
the duke gave seven volumes of Boccaccio, five of
Petrarch and two of Dante to the University.
Duke Humphrey promised to give the whole of his
collection to the University, together with a hundred
pounds to go towards the building of the library. But
he died suddenly, and the University never, as it
appears, received full advantage of his generosity. It
was not till 1488 that the books were removed from
S. Mary’s. For the completion of the library was
delayed by an order from Edward IV. The workmen
employed upon the building were summoned by him to
Windsor, where he had need of them, to work at
261
 Oxford and its Story

S. George’s Chapel Those who were not employed

on the chapel were handed over to William of
Waynflete, who restored them to the University
along with some scaffolding which had been used in
the building of Magdalen. William Patten or
Barbour of Waynflete, an Oxford man, who had been
master of the school at Winchester, had been appointed
first master and then Provost of Eton by the founder
Henry VI., and was rewarded for his success there by ,
the Bishopric of Winchester. In 1448 he had founded
a hall for the study of Theology and Philosophy,
situated between the present schools and Logic Lane*
and called it, probably after the almshouse at Win¬
chester, of which he had been master, the Hall of
S. Mary Magdalen. When he became Lord Chan¬
cellor he immediately took steps to enlarge this
foundation, transferred it to the site of the Hospital
of S. John, and styled it the College of S. Mary
Magdalen (September 1457).
Waynflete resigned the Chancellorship just before
the^ battle^ of Northampton. After some years,
during which he was “in great dedignation with
Edward IV.,” he received full pardon from his
late master’s conqueror. The Yorkist monarch
(whose fine statue is over the west doorway of the
chapel) also confirmed the grants made to Waynflete* s
College in the last reign. After an interval, then,
the foundation stone of the most beautiful college in
the world, £< the most absolute building in Oxford,” as
James L called it when his son matriculated there, was
laid “in the midst of the High Altar” (cth May
*474)*
Already enclosing walls had been built about the
property, which was bounded on the east by the
Cherwell, on the south by the High Street, on the
west by what is now Long Wail Street, and on the
262
The Medieval Student

north by the lands of Holywell. The “Long Wall

bounded the “ Grove,” famous, since the beginning of
the eighteenth century, for Its noble timber and herd
of deer. Most of the trees in the present grove are
films, i planted in the seventeenth century, but there
are two enormous wych elms, measured by Oliver
Wendell Holmes In 1886, which would have dwarfed
that venerable oak which stood near the entrance
into the water-walk, and was blown down “into the
meadow” in 1789. It was over seven hundred years
old (girth 21 ft. 9 in., height 71 ft. 8 in.), and thought
to be the same as that named by the founder for a
northern boundary. < _
In the arrangement of his buildings Vv aynnete
followed Wykeham. Chapel, hall, and library were
designed on the same plan. But the beautiful
“Founder’s Tower” formed the principal entrance
into a cloister, which was part of the buildings of the
main quadrangle, carried an upper storey of chambers,
and... was adorned with grotesques symbolical of the
Vices and Virtues. The Lion and the Pelican, for
instance, represent the courage and paternal care of
the President; the Hippopotamus, carrying its young,
is the just emblem of a good Tutor. The entrance
now used was originally meant to serve only as the
entrance from the cloister to the chapel. It was
adorned (circa 1630) with a gateway similar to that
of the main entrance to the college.
The statutes were based on those of hiew College,
but in addition to those of which we have already had
occasion to speak, there were certain notable improve¬
ments. The society was to consist of a President and
seventy scholars besides four chaplains, eight clerks
and sixteen choristers. Forty of these scholars were
• 1 The largest sio ft. high, was blown down in 1899. Its
rootl weSbpit?y nourished. by a deposit of hones~6os,
cervuSy and mammoth (tusks in Magdalen Library).
 Oxford and its Story

fellows forming one class, and thirty were demies,

forming another, whose tenure was limited and who
were given half the allowance of the fellows. They
had no special claim to promotion to fellowships.
For their instruction a Grammar Master and an usher
were provided; when they were well skilled in
Grammar, they were to he taught Logic and Sophistry
by the college lecturers, whilst three 44 Readers/’ in
Natural and Moral Philosophy and Theology, chosen
out of the University, were to provide the higher
teaching in Arts and Theology. And all "this
teaching, in Theology and Philosophy, and also in
Grammar, was to be given free to all comers at the
expense of the college.
In 1481 Waynflete, full of pride in his new founda¬
tion, “the most noble and rich structure in the learned
world/’ persuaded Edward IV. to come over from
Woodstock and see it. The King came at a few
hotirsj notice. But as the royal cavalcade drew near
the North Gate of the town, a little after sunset, it was
met ^ by the Chancellor and the masters of the Uni¬
versity and a great number of persons carrying lighted
torches. The King and his courtiers were hospitably
received at Magdalen. On the morrow the President
delivered a congratulatory address, and the King made
a gracious reply; then he and his followers joined in:
a solemn procession round the precincts and the cloister
of the college.
Two years later Richard III. was very similarly
welcomed by the University and entertained at
Magdalen. On this occasion the King was regaled
with two disputations in the hall. Richard declared
himself very well pleased ; and it is just possible that
he was. For one of the disputants was William
Grocyn, who was rewarded with a buck and three
marks for his pains.
■'264
2"he Medieval Student

The University continued its policy of political

time-serving, and, after the battle of Bosworth Field,
congratulated Henry VII. as fulsomely as it had con¬
gratulated Richard III. a few months before. Henry
retorted by demanding the surrender of Robert Still-
iogton, Bishop of Bath' and Weils, who was staying
within the limits of the University, This prelate was
accused of “ damnable conjuracies and conspiracies/5
which may have included complicity in the rebellion
of Lambert Simnel. For the future scullion was a
native of Oxford.1 The University prevaricated for a
while; and at last, when hard pressed, they explained
that they would incur the sentence of excommunication
if they used force against a "prelate of the Catholic
Church. The King then took the matter into his own
hands, and committed the offender to prison at Windsor
for the remainder of his life. Henry soon afterwards
visited Oxford, offered a noble in the chapel of
Magdalen College, and, by way of marking his approval
of the University, undertook the maintenance of two
students at Oxford. In 1493 he established at Uni¬
versity College an obit for the widow of Warwick the
king-maker.
Some years later, in 1504, he endowed the Uni¬
versity with ten pounds a year in perpetuity for a
religious service to be held in memory of him and his
wife and of his parents. On the anniversary of his
burial a hearse, covered with rich stuff, was to be set
up in the middle of S. Mary’s Church before the great
crucifix, and there the Chancellor, the masters and the
scholars were to recite certain specified prayers.
Among the articles in the custody of the verger of the
University is a very fine ancient pall of rich cloth of
gold, embroidered with the arms and badges of Henry
VII., the Tudor rose and the portcullis, that typify/he
union of the houses of York and Lancaster. Penurious
1 He was son of an Oxford joiner who probably helped to
build the organ of Merton Chapel.
" 265
 Oxford and its Story

in ^most matters, Henry VII. showed magnificence in

building .and in works of piety. In Westminster Abbey
he erected one of the grandest chantries in Christendom ;
and it was for the exclusive benefit of the monks of
Westminster that he established at Oxford three
scholarships in Divinity, called after his name, and each
endowed with a yearly income of ten pounds (Maxwell
Lyte).
Of Henry’s parents, his mother, the Lady Margaret
Countess of Richmond,1 took a warm interest in
Oxford as in Cambridge, where she founded two
colleges. ^ It was she who founded the two Readerships
in Divinity at Oxford (1497) and Cambridge, the
oldest professorial chairs that exist in either University.
His characteristically frugal offering was not the
only sign of his favour which Henry vouchsafed to
Magdalen. He sent his eldest son. Prince Arthur,
frequently to Oxford. When there the boy stayed
in the President’s lodgings and the purchase of two
marmosets for his amusement is recorded in the college
accounts. One of the old pieces of tapestry preserved
m the President’s, lodgings represents the marriage of
the prince with Catherine of Aragon. It was pro¬
bably presented to the President (Mayhew) by
him.
It is possible that Henry VII. also contributed
to^the cost of building that bell tower, which is the
pride of Magdalen and the chief ornament of Oxford.
1 After this patroness of learning Lady Margaret Hall was
named. (For this and other Women’s Colleges see pp.
417, 418.) Women students first granted the privilege of
attending University lectures (1880), then of being examined
by the University Examiners (1884), were finally admitted to
full membership of the University (1920). This step coincided
with the abolition of Greek as a compulsory subject for ex¬
amination. Women s Colleges are governed by Councils, but
will no doubt in time become self-governing communities.
'1 he academical cap worn by women students is a happy
adaptation of the mediaeval biretta (v. p. 220) 1
266
The Medieval Student

The tower was built between the years 1492 and

1505. Wolsey was a junior fellow when the tower
was begun, and though popular tradition ascribes to
him the credit of the idea and even the design of that
exquisite campanile, the fact that not he, but another
senior fellow (Gosmore by name) was appointed to
superintend the work, is evidence, so far as there is
any evidence, that Wolsey had no particular share
in the design. He was, however, senior bursar in
1499. But the story that he left the college because
he had wrongly applied some of its funds to the build¬
ing of the tower, is not borne out by any evidence in
the college records. He ceased to be a fellow of
Magdalen about 1501, having been instituted to the
Rectory of Lymington. But he had filled the office
of Dean of Divinity after his term as senior bursar
was over.
We have referred to the close connection of the
house of Lancaster with Waynflete’s foundation. By
a curious freak of popular imagination the name of
Henry VII. as well as that of the future cardinal has
been intimately connected with this tower. For besides
other benefactions, he granted a licence for the con¬
veyance to the college of the advowsons of Slymbridge
and of Findon. In return the college undertook
to keep an obit for him every year. This celebration
was originally fixed on the 2nd or 3rd of October,
but it has been held on the 1st of May since the six¬
teenth century.
The coincidence of this ceremony with the most in¬
teresting and picturesque custom of singing on Magdalen
Tower has given rise to the fable that a payment made to
the college by the Rectory of Slymbridge was intended
to maintain the celebration of a requiem mass for the
soul of Henry VII. And the hymn that is now sung
is the survival, says the popular myth, of that requiem.
269
 Oxford and its Story

For in the early morning of May Day all fu

members of Wayndete’s foundation, the Preldem and
fellows and demies with the organist and choir clad
m white surplices ascend the tall tower that stand

day The4 3nd ^ of the coming

^ he.e are a few moments of quiet watching
and tne eye gazes at the distant hills1 as th*
mists far below are rolled awav * • W^Ite
The dock strikes five, and as the sound of the^rokes
floats about the tower, suddenly from rh* th r

. fhe h>,a“tis finished, and a merry peal of hell,

thus*commemorated l^e^ompletion^of t^°^e®e ^

.h«FL‘c,srp“iw5? 'ri’“

was written by a fellow of the collet Th‘ 1

Smith andset to music as part of the college

“S1
chScS"U appear t0 fiave b°rne

according to”nTn^ien^0^0®'sa^tet?37' Wood’ “d°>

^substitution of a hymn from the college grace

The Mediaeval Student

for the <e merry concert of both vocal and. instrumental

music, consisting of several merry ketches, and lasting
almost two hours,” which was the form the perform¬
ance took in the middle of the eighteenth century, was
made on one occasion when the weather was very incle¬
ment, Once made- it was found easier and more suitable
to continue it, and the observance came to be religious.1
Magdalen Tower is one of those rarely beautiful
buildings, which strike you with a silent awe of
admiration when flrst you behold them, and ever
afterwards reveal to your admiring gaze new aspects
and unsuspected charms. It is changeable as a
woman, but its changes are all good and there is
nothing else about it that is feminine. It conveys the
impression that it is at once massive and slender, and
its very slenderness is male.
• The chaste simplicity of the lower stories carries
the eye up unchecked to the ornamented belfry
windows, the parapet and surmounting pinnacles, and
thus enhances the impression of perfect and reposeful
proportion.
The growth of the colleges had influenced the halls.
Statutes imposed by the authority of the University,
began to take the place of the private rule of custom
and tradition approved and enforced by the authority
of the self-governing scholars. The students quickly
ceased to be autonomous scholars and became dis¬
ciplined schoolboys. The division between don and
undergraduate began to be formed and was rapidly
accentuated. Thus, at the close of the mediaeval
. period, a change had been wrought in the character
of the University, which rendered it an institution
very different from that which it had been in- the
beginning. The growth of Nationalism, the separation
of languages and the establishment of the collegiate
1 Cf. “ Magdalen College.” H. A. Wilson.
271
 Oxford and its Story

system—these and similar causes tended to give the

Universities a local and aristocratic character. The
order introduced by the colleges was accompanied by
the introduction of rank, and the academical power
and influence stored in the older, permanent members
of the University. Learning, too, had ceased to be
thought unworthy of a gentleman ; it became a matter
of custom for young men of rank to have a University
education. In the charter of Edward III., we even
read that u to the University a multitude of nobles
gentry, strangers and others continually .flock ”; and
towards the end of the century we find Henry of
Monmouth, afterwards Henry V., as a young man, a
sojourner at Queen’s College. But it was in the next
century that colleges,, were provided, not for the poor,
but for the noble. Many colleges, too, which had
been originally intended for the poor, opened their
gates to the rich, not as fellows or foundation students,
but as simple lodgers, such as monasteries might have
received in a former age. This change has continued
be remarkably impressed upon Oxford and Cam-'
bridge even down to this day.
The influence of other political classes was now also*
introduced. Never, as Newman said, has a learned
institution been more directly political and national
than the University of Oxford. Some of its colleges
came to represent the talent of the nation, others its
rank and fashion, others its wealth; others have
been the organs of the Government of the day;
while others, and the. majority, represented one
or other division, chiefly local, of opinion in the
country. The local limitation of the members of
many colleges, the West Country character of
Exeter, the North Country character of Queen’s or
University, the South Country character of New
College, the Welsh character of Jesus College, for
' ;272
The Mediaval Student

instance, tended to accentuate this peculiarity. The

whole nation was brought into the University by
means of the colleges, which fortunately were
sufficiently numerous, and no one of them overwhelm¬
ingly important. A vigour and a stability were thus
imparted to the University such as the abundant influx
of foreigners had not. been able to secure. As in the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries, French, German and
Italian students had flocked to Oxford, and made its
name famous in distant lands, so in the fifteenth all
ranks and classes of the land furnished it with pupils,
and what was wanting in their number or variety,
compared with the former era, was made up by their
splendour or political importance. The sons of the
nobles came up to the University, each accompanied
by an ample retinue ; the towns were kept in touch
with the University by means of the numerous members
of it who belonged to the clerical order. Town and
country, high and low, north and south, had a common
stake in the academical institutions, and took a personal
interest in the academical proceedings. The degree
possessed a sort of' indelible character which all classes
understood; and the people at large were more or less
partakers of a cultivation which the aristocracy were
beginning to appreciate. Oxford, in fact, became the
centre of national and political thought. Not only in
vacations and term time was there a stated ebbing and
flowing of the academical youth, but messengers posted
to and fro between Oxford and all parts of the country
in all seasons of the year. So intimate was this
connection, that Oxford became, as it were, the
selected arena for the conflicts of the various interests
of the nation.

273
 CHAPTER VI

Oxford and the Reformation

The New Learning—The Oxford Press—Linacre, Grocyn and

Colet—Erasmus at Oxford—Greeks and Trojans—foun¬
dation of Corpus Christi College—The Plague at Oxford
—John Skelton, Poet Laureate—Cardinal Wolsey—The
Charter of Henry VIII.—Wolsey and Cardinal’s College—
Henry VIII. and Christ Church—The downfall of
Scholasticism—The Edwardine Statutes—Magdalen
College School.

IN 1453 Christendom was shocked by the news that

1 the Turks had taken Constantinople. The home
of learning and the citadel of philosophy was no more.
The wisdom of Hellas, so it seemed to contemporary
scholars like iBoeas Sylvius, was destined likewise to
perish. In fact, it was but beginning to be diffused.
Scholars fled with what MSS. they could save to the
hospitable shores of Italy. And at the very time that
these fugitives were hastening across the Adriatic, it is
probable that the sheets of the Mazarin Bible were
issuing from the press at Maintz. Thus whilst Italy
was rescuing from destruction the most valuable thought
of the ancient world, Germany was devising the means
for its diffusion in lands of which Strabo never heard,
and to an extent of which the Sosii never dreamed.
The Italians acquired the Greek language with rapidity
and ardour. The student flung aside his scholastic
culture; cast away the study of an Aristotle that had
been conformed to Christian Theology, and the
2.74
Oxford and the Reformation

Sentences in which that theology was enshrined, and

tried to identify himself in feeling with the spirit of
cultivated paganism. The cowl and the gown were
discarded for the tunic and the toga.
But the New Learning did not make its way at
once to England. And when at length the English¬
men who had travelled and studied in Italy brought
back with them something of the generous enthusiasm
with which they had been fired, their ideas were but
coldly welcomed by the followers of Thomas or the
disciples of Duns. At Oxford the New . Movement
took but a momentary hold of only a small part, of the
University, and then was shaken off by the massive
inertness of the intellectual stagnation characteristic of
the country. <s They prefer their horses and their
dogs to poets,” wrote Poggio ; “ and like their horses
and their dogs they shall perish and be for¬
gotten.”
The majority of Englishmen are always slow to
accept new ideas. They move ponderously and pro-
testingly in the wake of the Continent. The New
Learning was as unwelcome at Oxford as if it had been
a motorcar.1 The schoolmen were still busily chopping
their logic, when the Medicis were ransacking the
world for a new play, when Poggio was writing his
a Facetiae ” or editing Tacitus, and Pope Nicholas
was founding the Vatican Library at Rome. And the
Renaissance, when it did begin to work in England,
took the form of a religious reformation; the religious
genius of the nation led it to the worship, not of Beauty
but of Truth.
The English were equally late in adopting the new
German art of printing. When Caxton introduced it,
it had almost reached its perfection abroad. Block
books—-books printed wholly from carved, blocks of
WOod—had come in and gone out. Arising out of
1All but first year men may now keep cars, and Cowley
manufactures the famous Morris Oxford and Cowley cars
(1926).
275
 Oxford and its Story

them, the idea of movable types had long been invented

and developed on the Continent.
The Bamberg and Mazarin Bibles, the first two
books to be printed from movable type, had been
produced by Gutenberg, Fust and SchofFer as early as
1453. But it was not till 1477 that Caxton set up
his press at Westminster. A year later the first book
was issued from- an Oxford press. This was the
famous small quarto of forty-two leaves, ££ Exposicio
sancti Jeronimi in simbolum apostolorum,” written by
Tyrannies Rufimis of Aquileia. The colophon of this
book, however, distinctly states that it was printed in
1468 : Impressa Oxonie et ibi finita anno domini
M.CCCC.LXVIIJ, XVIJ die decembris ” But
there is every reason to suppose that an X has been
omitted from this date and that the true year was 1478.
Such a misprint is not uncommon. Exactly the same
error occurs in books published at Venice, at Barcelona
and at Augsburg. The workmanship is very much
the same as, but slightly inferior to, that of the next
two books which came from the Oxford Press in 1479.
And in the library of All Souls9 there is a copy of
each of these, which were originally bound up together.
A break of eleven years between the production of the
first and subsequent books is both inconceivable and
inexplicable.
The press from which these books and twelve
others were issued at Oxford during the eight years,
1478-1486, was apparently set up by one Theodore
Rood of Cologne. The first three books, however,
namely the ££ Exposicio 55 mentioned, the ££ iEgidms de
originali peccato,” and e£ Textus Ethicorum Aristotelis
per Leonardum Aretinum translatus,” bear no printer’s
■name, but the type was either brought from Cologne
or directly copied from. Cologne examples. It strongly
resembles that used by Gerard ten Raem de Berka or
276
Oxford and the Reformation

GuIdenschafF. Still, it cannot be proved that Rood

printed these first three books, or that he ever used the
type in which they alone are printed. The colophon
of the fourth book, a Latin commentary on^ the uDe
Anima 77 of Aristotle by Alexander de Hales, a folio
printed from new type, gives the name of the printer,
Theodore Rood, and bears the date 1481. A copy
of it was bought in the year of publication for the
library of Magdalen, where it still remains. The
price paid was thirty-three shillings and fourpence.
A very beautiful copy of the next book,<s Commentary
on the Lamentation of Jeremiah/1 by John Lattebury,
1482, is in the library of All Souls’. Four leaves
survive in the Bodleian and four in the Merton Library,
of the “ Cicero pro Milone/7 the first edition of a
classic printed in England. Two leaves of a Latin
orammar are to be found in the British Museum.
Rood went into partnership with an Oxford stationer
named Thomas Hunt, and together they produced
eight other books with a type more English in character
than the preceding ones. One of these books,
“ Phalaris,77 1485 (Wadham and Corpus Libraries),
has a curious colophon in verse, which describes the
printers and their ambition to surpass the Venetians in
their work. The partners ceased to produce books
after i486. Rood probably returned to Cologne, and
the German art found no exponents in Oxford for the
remainder of the century. Subsequently we find
Leicester advancing money to set up Joseph Barnes
with a new press. Laud and Fell were other great
patrons of the University Press. (See p. 376).
Meantime the return of the Pope to Rome had
attracted many foreign travellers and students to Italy,
who could not fail to be impressed by the new birth
of art and intellectual life that was taking place in that
country.
277
 Oxford and its Story

Among the pupils of Guarino of Verona at Ferrara

the names of at least five students from Oxford occur.
Of these, Robert Fleming, a relative of the founder of
Lincoln College, was an author of some distinction, and
he compiled a Graeco-Latin dictionary at a time when
Greek was almost unknown in England. He brought
back from his travels in Italy many precious books,
which he gave to the library of Lincoln College.
William Grey, another of Guarino’s pupils, enriched
the library of Balliol with many line manuscripts
redolent of the New Learning. John Tiptoft, Earl
of Worcester, was another scholar who, before paying
for his share in politics with his head, presented to the
L diversity the valuable collection of manuscripts, which
he had made in the course of his travels.
V illiam Selling, a member of the recent foundation
of All Souls’, was perhaps the earliest Englishman of
influence to catch from Italy the inspiration of the
Greek muse. On his return from that country, he
was appointed to the conventual school at Canterbury.
His knowledge of Greek, and his enthusiasm for
Greek literature, became the germ of the study in
England. Thomas Li nacre was one of his pupils,
who, after studying at Oxford under Vitelli, journeyed
to Italy with Selling, He was introduced to Politian
at Florence. Thence he proceeded to Rome, and
there perhaps formed his taste for the scientific writings
of Aristotle and his devotion to the study of medicine,
which afterwards found expression in the foundation
of the College of Physicians and of the two lectureships
at Merton, now merged into the chair which bears
his name. Linacre returned to Oxford and lectured
there awhile before being appointed Physician to
Henry VIII. His translation of five medical treatises
of Galen was, Erasmus declared, more valuable
than the original Greek.
278
Oxford and the Reformation

We have said that he studied under Vitelii. It

was Cornelio Vitelii -who, some time before 1475,
first “introduced polite literature to the schools of
Oxford,55 by a lecture as prelector of New College,
upon which the warden, Thomas Chandler, com¬
plimented him in a set Latin speech. This was
probably that Cornelius who, in company with two
other Italians, Cyprian and Nicholas by name, dined
with the President of Magdalen on Christmas day,
1488. And from- the lips of this pioneer William
Grocyn himself learned Greek. Grocyn was a fellow
of New College (1467-1481), but he afterwards
removed to Magdalen as Reader in Theology. He
completed his study of Greek and Latin by a sojourn
of two years (1488) at Florence, under Demetrius
Chalcondylas and Politian. On his return to Oxford
he took rooms in Exeter College (1491), and gave a
course of lectures on Greek.
A few years'*later (1496-7) the first step in the^
revolution against the system under which the study of
the Bible had been ousted by the study of the Sentences
was taken. A course of lectures by John Colet on
the Epistles - of S. Paul was the first overt act in a
movement towards practical Christian reform.
It was from Grocyn and Linacre that Thomas
More and Erasmus learnt Greek. For Gibbon’s
epigram that Erasmus learned Greek at Oxford and
taught it at Cambridge is true, if we qualify it by the
reminder that he knew a little bet ore he came to
England and learned more in the years which inter¬
vened between the time when, much to the chagrin of
Colet, he left Oxford and went to Cambridge as an
instructor in that language.
Erasmus had taught at Paris. He went to Oxford
(1498) to learn and to observe. His return home
from London had been delayed unexpectedly. He
279
 Oxford and its Story

determined to use the opportunity of paying a visit to

Oxford. The reputation of the learned men there
attracted him more than the company of 46 the gold-
chained courtiers 3? of the capital. He was received
as_an inmate of S. Mary’s College, which had been
built as a house for students of his own Augustinian
order (1435). This house, when it was dissolved
(1541), was converted into a hall for students, and
then into a charitable institution (Bridewell). The
site, on the east side of New Inn Hall Street, is
occupied by a house and garden, now called Frewen
Hall, which was chosen in 1859 as the residence of,
the then Prince of Wales during his studies at Oxford.
The west gateway, a few remains of groining and the
wall facing the street north of the gate are practically
all that remains of tne building as Erasmus saw it,
unless we reckon the roof of the chapel of B.N.C.,
which is said to have been taken from the chapel of
S. Mary s College, Erasmus had nothing to complain
of in his welcome to Oxford. He found the prior
of his college, Richard Charnock, an intelligent com¬
panion and useful friend. Colet, having heard from
Charnock of his arrival, addressed to him a letter of
welcome, which in the midst of its formal civility has
a characteristic touch of Puritan sincerity. To this
Erasmus replied in his own rhetorical fashion with a
letter of elaborate compliment.
His wit, his learning and the charm of his brilliant
conversation soon won him friends. Delightful himself,
he found everybody, delightful. The English girls
were divinely pretty, and he admired their custom of
kissing visitors. Erasmus made a fair show in the
hunting-field, and was charmed with everything, even
with our -English climate.
“ The air,” he wrote from Oxford, “ is soft and delicious,
itie men are sensible and intelligent. Many of them are
■ 2&Q
Oxford and the Reformation

even learned, and not superficially either. They know

their classics and so accurately that 1 seem to have lost little
in not going to Italy. "When Colet speaks 1 might he
listening to Plato. Linacre is as deep and acute a thinker
as I have ever met. Grocyn is a mine of knowledge, and
Nature never formed a sweeter and happier disposition than
that of Thomas More. The number of young men who
are studying ancient literature here is astonishing.”

In one of his letters he gives a very lively picture

of a gathering of witty divines at the house of his
44 sweet and amiable friend55 Colet, when the latter
“spoke with a sacred fury55 and Erasmus himself,
finding the conversation growing too serious for a
social gathering, entertained the company with a
happily invented tale.
At Oxford, then, the great centre of theological
study, he was learning something of the methods of
the theologians. They were not strange to him, for
he knew Paris. But the Oxford school was in his
mind when he poured forth his shafts of ridicule upon
scholastic divines in his brilliant satire, 44 The Praise
of Folly.55 Yet it was at Oxford that Colet had
taught him to detest the authority of Thomas Aquinas,
and to apply to the study of the New Testament the
knowledge and methods indicated by the study of
Greek literature. His “ Moria 55 and his 44 Novum
Instrumentum,55 therefore; the books which prepared
the way for the Reformation, were his protest, and
the protest of the Christian laity along with him,
against the authority of the clergy and against the
popular theology which was based on the errors of
the Vulgate. Erasmus laid the egg and Luther
hatched it—a very different bird, as the former de¬
clared. The fact was that throughout Europe the grow¬
ing intelligence of the educated class was slowly but
surely developing in antagonism, not merely to specific
doctrines, but to the whole spirit of mediaeval theology.
281
 Oxford and its Story

The Old Learning was threatened with destruction

It rose in arms against Greek and heresy. Bishops
fulminated. The clergy cried Antichrist, and clamoured
for sword and faggot. The Universities forbade the
sale or Erasmus s writings, and, seeing what came of
the s.udy or Greek, declared that they would have no
more of it Oxford divided itself into two bodies,
who_ called themselves Greeks and Trojans, the
I rojans enormously preponderating. The “ Greeks ”
the adherents of the New Learning, were assailed
with every kmd of ridicule. They were openly de¬
rided m the streets and abused from the pulpit In
after years Tyndale, who had been a student at
Magdalen Hall could recall how

s7^e.0ULbarHine curs’ Duns’ disciples and like draff called

Scowt. the children of darkness, raged in eveiw nuluk
against Greek, Latin and Hebrew, and what sorrow the
them ?aSteK th-at taLuSht,the true Latin tongue had with
tnem, some beating the pulpit with their fists for madness
i open .nd foaming mouth, that if there
were buc one Terence or Vergil in the world, and that sam?
therein %heiore would burn them
tnerein, ciioogh it should cost them their lives.”

News of what was going on reached the court at

Abmgaon. At the King’s command, More wrote
to the governing body of the University to rebuke
t e intemperance of the Trojan clique. But the
Heads of Houses were sleeping over a volcano, and
More s letter could not rouse them from their slumber
.°r the Pres«nt result was that the little band of

L“”"s ^
“The Cardinal of York,” More writes, “will not
permit these studies to be meddled with.” Wolsev

1arham,
“"’ til "I3' thf, Kin& More and Archbishop
the Chancellor, was on the side of the
New Learning. He defrayed the expenses of many
Oxford and the Reformation

lectures, for which the University repeatedly thanked

him. He engaged a famous Spanish scholar, Juan
Luis Vives, to occupy his new Chair of Rhetoric $
and he sent a
rising English
scholar, Thomas
L upset, from
Paris to lecture
on the Classics
at Oxford.
Vives was the
first Professor of
Humanity (or-
Latin) at Corpus
Christi, the first
of the Renais¬
sance colleges.
His special func¬
tion it was to
banish all “ bar¬
barism’? from the
u bee-hive,” as
the founder
fondly called his
college, by lec-
taring daily on ''***-
the Classics. _ , , _ _
Tradition says
that the profes¬
sor was welcomed to his new home by a swarm of bees,
which, to signify the incomparable sweetness of his
eloquence, settled under the leads of his chambers.
The founder of C.C.C., Richard Foxe, Bishop
of Winchester, was a prelate, statesman, architect,
soldier, herald and diplomatist, who, in the very
encyclopaedic nature of his talents, was a typical
o
 Oxford and its Story

product of the Renaissance. He had been Bishop

of Exeter, of Bath and Wells and of Durham before
he was translated to Winchester ; he had been Keeper
of the Privy Seal and Secretary of State, and had
played an important part in, the history of his country ;
he had been Chancellor of Cambridge and Master of
Pembroke College therebut it was chiefly upon
Oxford that he lavished the wealth he had acquired.
Having bought some land between Merton and S.
Frideswide’s, he proposed at first to establish a college,
after the manner of Durham College, directly in con¬
nection with the Monastery of S. Swithun at Win¬
chester. But before the building was completed, he
determined to make it a college for secular students.
Holinshed gives us the words in which Hugh Oldham,
Bishop of Exeter, who was intimately associated with
him in the work—his arms are to be seen in various
places in the existing buildings—persuaded him to
this course.
4
c What, my Lord, shall we build houses and provide liveli¬
hood for a company of bussing monks, whose end and fall
we ourselves may live to see? No, no. It is more meet a
great deal that we should have care to provide for the in¬
crease of learning, and for such as by their learning shall do
good in the Church and Commonwealth.”

The broad-minded founder accepted this view. He

drew up statutes, by means of which he hoped to train
men who should help the Church to recognise, to lead
and to control the New Movement. The verdict of
his contemporaries with regard to his work and inten¬
tions is expressed by Erasmus, who wrote that u Just
as Rhodes was once famous for the Colossus, and
Caria for the tomb of Mausolus, so the new College at
Oxford dedicated to the most profitable literature
would be recognised throughout the civilised world as
one of the chief ornaments of Britain.”
2S4
Oxford and the Reformation

The influence of the Renaissance is writ large over

Foxe?s statutes. What is remarkable in them is the
provision he made for the teaching of the New Learning.
As he furnished his students with a library, rich in
classical MSS. and books io Greek, Latin and Hebrew,
a c< Bibliotheca trilinguis ” which Erasmus declared
would attract more students than Rome had done
hitherto ; so also, in addition to the twenty fellows and
twenty scholars of his college, he endowed three
Readers, in Greek, in Latin, and ' in Theology.
Natives of Greece and Italy were to be specially
eligible for these offices; Greek as well as Latin
might be spoken in hall, and some acquaintance with
the works of Roman poets, orators and historians, no
less than with Logic and Philosophy, was to be
required of candidates for scholarships, who must also
prove their fitness by ability to compose verses and
write letters in Latin.
Cicero, Sallust, Valerius Maximus, Suetonius,
Pliny, Livy and Quintilian are enumerated in the
statutes as the prose writers, and Vergil, Ovid, Lucan,
Juvenal, Terence and Plautus as the poets to be ex¬
pounded by the Professor of Humanity. The works
of Lorenzo Valla, Aulus Gellius and Politian are
recommended as suitable subjects of study during the
three vacations. The Professor of Greek, an officer
unknown in any earlier college, was required to lecture,
and to lecture to the whole University, not only on
Grammar,- but also on the works of Isocrates, Lucian,
Philostratus, Aristophanes, Theocritus, Euripides,
Sophocles, Pindar, Hesiod, Demosthenes, Thucydides,
Aristotle and Plutarch.
The third “ Reader ” appointed by Foxe was to
expound the Old Testament and the New in. alternate
years. He was not, however, to be content with the
comments of the schoolmen, but was u to follow so far
285
 Oxford and its Story

as possible the ancient and holy doctors both Latin and

Greek.”
It wiii be seen that these statutes form, as it were,
at once a charter and a corpus of the New Learning.
Patristic theology was to be restored to the place of
honour whence the quibbles of the schoolmen had
banished it; the masterpieces of the ancient world
were, in future, to be studied instead of the second-rate
philosophers and slovenly writers of the Dark Ages.
Apart from the fascinating hall and library, the
buildings of Corpus are less distinguished than her
history. The curious sundial, surmounted by a pelican
vulning herself in piety, which stands in the centre of
the front quadrangle, was erected by a fellow in 1581.
As at All Souls5 and elsewhere, the name of the college
is indicated by sculpture over the gateway—a group of
angels bearing a pyx, the receptacle of the sacramental
host, the body of Christ (Corpus Christi). The
pastoral staff, a chalice and paten, which belonged to
the founder, are still preserved. They rank among the
nnest examples of the work of English mediaeval
silversmiths. And, as an example of modern building
adapted to the tradition of Oxford at its best, the new
lodgings built for himself by the present President
(Professor Case, 1906) at the West end of the college,
are worthy of study and compel admiration.
The connection between Magdalen and C.C.C. was
always close. Foxe, indeed, is said to have been at
Magdalen, and to have left Oxford on account of a
pestilence. It is at any rate noteworthy that he makes
special provision against plagues in his statutes. The
severity and frequency of plagues of one sort or another
were serious obstacles to the prosperity of the Uni¬
versity,- and therefore of the city, throughout this
century. The causes are not far to seek. For
centuries filth and garbage had been allowed to
286
Oxford and the Reformation

accumulate in the ill-made, unswept streets. And

though the King might write to the burghers and
command them to remove the nuisances of this sort
from before their doors, the efforts to deal with them
were only spasmodic. Brewers and bakers, again,
were forbidden by the King’s edict (1293) to make
use of the foul waters of Trill Mill Stream for the
making of their bread and ale. But police was in¬
efficient, and the health of the scholars frequently
suffered from a renewal of this insanitary practice.
Regrators, who burned before their doors stinking fat
and suet, were also forbidden by Edward III. to
pursue their habits, and the citizens were enjoined to
repair the pavements in front of their houses!
But in spite of regulations and restrictions butchers
persisted in slaughtering their beasts in their homes and
fouling the Trill Mill Stream with offal. Inundations
from the Cherwell and the Thames, not yet regulated
and confined by the Conservancy Board, occasionally
swamped even the cloister of Magdalen and left behind
a legacy of mud, damp and malaria.
Sweating sickness—a kind of rheumatic fever—
struck Oxford hard in 1517. In the following years
other loathsome diseases, attributed to the noisome
smells which arose from the marshy grounds around
the city and the obstructed state of the ’ Thames,
manifested themselves and caused the students to fly.
Frequent instances are recorded of fellows obtaining
permission to leave Oxford on account of the pestil¬
ence. In 1513 most of the members of Oriel re¬
moved to a farm at Dean ; in 1522 the inmates of New
'"College fled on the outbreak of some illness, and the
fellows of University College dispersed on the same
account in 1525. From Magdalen, in unhealthy
seasons, there were frequent migrations of a large por¬
tion of the society to Witney or to Brackley, where
287
 Oxford and its Story

the hospital had been indicated by the founder as a

place to which such migrations might be made. But
it was in 1528 that the sweating sickness broke out in its
severest form. Many persons died within a few hours
of being attacked by the diseasepublic business was
postponed, and the lecture rooms were closed. The
Festival of S. John was stopped. It was decreed that
all clerks who thought themselves in danger might be
absent until October. It might almost have been the
influenza {1894).
The plague broke out in 1571, so that the Univer¬
sity term had to be deferred. It broke out again in
the following years, and culminated, in 1577s in the
44 Black Assizes/31 Rowland Jencks, a bookbinder,
had been seized and sent to London for railing against
the Commonwealth and the established religion. His
house was searched for 44 bulls, libels, and suchlike
things against the Queen and religion/’ He was
returned to Oxford to be committed to prison. At
the Assizes, held in the Court House at the Castle-
yard, he was condemned to Jose his ears. No sooner
was the prisoner removed from the crowded court
than, as Wood tells us,

a there arose such an infectious damp or breath among the

people, that many there present, to the apprehensions of
most men, were then smothered and others so deeply in¬
fected that they lived not many hours after. Above 600
sickened in one night; and the day after, the infectious air
being carried into the next villages, sickened there an
hundred more. The whole number that died in that time
were 510 persons, of whom many bled till they expired.”

The description of the disease given by Wood re¬

minds one of Thucydides’ account of the plague at
Athens.. The outbreak was attributed by some to the
Roman Catholics, who were said to have used magic
to revenge themselves for the cropping of Jencks’ ears,
288
Oxford and the R eformation

but the explanation suggested by a remark of Bacon is

more probable. The most pernicious infection next
to the plague/5 he says, <£ is the smell of the Jail, when
prisoners have been long and close nastily kept.”
In 1582 the plague again threatened. This time
measures were taken to improve the sanitarv conditions
of the place. Regulations were introduced, which do
not greatly differ from the precautions of modern
legislation. It was, for instance, ordained that—
14 No person shall cast or lay any donge, dust, ordure,
rubbish, carreyne or any other thing noyant into any the
waters ryvers or streams or any the streets, wayes or lanes.
But every person shall swepe together & take up the said
tilings noyant out of the channel of the street so far as their
ground reacheth and cause the same to be carried away
twice every week. All privies & hogsties set or made
over upon or adjoining to any the waters or streames lead¬
ing to any brew-house shall be removed & taken away
No person shall keep any hogs or swine within the said City
but only within their own several backsides; no butcher
shall keep any slaughter-house or kill any oxen, kyne, shepe
or calves within the wails. All pavements shall be made and
amended in places defective and ail chimneys occupied
with fire shall from henceforth be swept four times every
year.’5

These ordinances, it will be seen, provided against the

customary crying evils .of a mediaeval town. . Similar
provisions against similar evils are to be found in the
archives of most cities in England or Franee in the
sixteenth century. But ordinances are one thing and
effective street^police is another. A hundred years
later S. James’s Square was still the receptacle for all
offal and cinders, for all the dead cats and dead dogs
of Westminster,'whilst Voltaire’s scathing description
of the streets of Paris was no exaggeration. It was a
state of affairs on which the Plague of London was the
grimmest of all: possible commentaries.
Another outbreak..of plague in 1593. produced an
T 289
 Oxford and its Story

order against plays, which were said to bring too

many people, and the plague with them, from London.
Regulations were also passed against overcrowding in
the houses. At the beginning of the reign of James
L, however, the infection spread once more from
London to Oxford. Term was prorogued; the
colleges broke up ; and the citizens were so hard
hit that they petitioned the University for aid. A
weekly contribution from the colleges alleviated the
distress that arose from this doleful sickness. The
town was almost deserted ; the shops were closed *
and only the keepers of the sick or the collectors
of relief appeared in the streets—“no not so much
as dog or cat.” . The churches were seldom opened,
and grass grew in the common market-place. Next
year and the next plague broke out again, by which
time some arrangements had been made for a system
of isolation. . Yet the mediaeval attitude of mind
towards medicine and sanitation would seem to have
lasted on through the Age of Reason. For in 1774,
when small-pox had many times scourged the town,
all attempts at inoculation were formally forbidden by
the Vice-Chancellor and Mayor.
Foxe had aided the rise and rejoiced in the success
of Wolsey. But that. success was not universally
popular.. In spite of his benefactions to learning, and
the University,, it was an Oxford Laureate, one of
our earliest satirists, who, when the Cardinal was at
the height of his power, more monarch than the
Ring himself, attacked him with the most outspoken
virulence.
A crown of laurel would seem to have been the
outward sign, and symbol of a degree in Rhetoric,
and rhetoricians were occasionally styled Poets
Laureate. John Skelton, who was perhaps Court
Poet to Henry VIII,, was certainly tutor to Prince
290
Oxford and the Reformation

Henry and Laureate of both Universities. He was

very proud of this distinction, and, not being troubled
by any excess of modesty, he wrote a poem of 1600
lines in praise of himself;
** A Kynge to me myn habite gave;
At Oxforth the Universyte,
Auvaunsed to that degre
By hole consent of theyr Senate,
I was made Poete Laureate.”

So he says; and Cambridge apparently followed suit

and admitted him (1493) to a corresponding degree,
and likewise encircled his brows with a wreath of
laurel.
Skelton jeered at the Cardinal’s pride and pomp;
at his low birth (his 44 greasy original ”) and his lack
of scholarship. There was more truth in Shakespeare’s
description of him as a 44 scholar and a right good
one,” for the 44 Boy Bachelor” had taken his degree
of B.A. at fifteen years of age, 44 a rare thing and
seldom seen.”' He held a fellowship at Magdalen,
and was bursar for a short while, as we have seen;
for six months he acted as master of Magdalen School,
and in 1500 he was instituted to the Rectory of
Lymington, thanks to the favour of the Marquis of
Dorset, whose three sons had been his pupils at the
school. It is not every man who is given even one
chance in life, but at last to Wolsev, as to Wykeham,
the opportunity came. He pleased the King by the
speed with which he performed the first errand on
which he was dispatched; and from that time he
never ceased to advance in power and the confidence
of his sovereign. The account of that episode, which
he gave after his fall to George Cavendish, is one of
the most profitable lessons in history. It is the secret
of success as recorded by a bankrupt millionaire.
Wolsey never allowed his ecclesiastical and political
291
 Oxford and its Story

work and honours to make him forget the University

which had given him his start in life. In 1510 he
took his degree of Bachelor of Divinity.
. B>- the University the need for the codification of
its statutes, and the unification of the mass of obscure
customs and contradictory ordinances of which they
were by this time composed, had long been felt
Some efforts had indeed already (1518) been made
m this direction, but they had come to nothing
Graduates who swore to obey the statutes now found
themselves in the awkward position of being really
unable to find their way through the labyrinth of
confused and contradictory enactments.
. Now il happened that an outbreak of the sweating
sickness in 1517 drove the King and his court from
London to Abingdon. Queen Catherine availed
herself of the opportunity to pay a visit to Oxford
to dine at Merton and to worship at the shrine of
S. Fndeswide, whilst Wolsey, who escorted her from
Abingdon, attended a solemn meeting of the oraduates
at S. Mary’s_ and informed them of his design to
establish certain daily lectures for the benefit of the
University at large. For this purpose it was necessary
to alter existing regulations. The graduates seized
the opportunity of inviting the Cardinal, their
“ Maecenas, whom they even came to address as
His Majesty, to undertake a complete revision of
their statutes. In so doing they disregarded the
wishes of their Chancellor, the Archbishop Warham.
But their action was fruitless, for the Cardinal had
no time to examine and codify the chaotic enactments
or the mediaeval academicians.
It was at Wolsey’s request that a charter was
granted to the University (1523) which placed the
greater part of the city at its mercy. It was now
empowered to incorporate any trade, whilst all
292
Oxford and the Reformation

“members of the privilege5’ were, exempted from

having to apply to the city for permission to carry on
business. Many minor rights and immunities were
granted to the Chancellor, and no appeal was allowed
from his court. “ Any sentence, just or unjust, by
the Chancellor against any person, shall be holden
good, and for the same sentence, so just or unjust,
the Chancellor or his deputy shall not be drawn out
of the University for false judgment, or for the same
vexed or troubled by any written commandment of
the King.55
Prior to the issue of this charter there had, been
grievances arising from the favour shown by the
Crown to the University, as, for instance, when, a
few years back, the colleges and other places of the
University had been exempted from the subsidies
charged upon the town. The jealousy which had
been slumbering now burst into flames. The bailiffs
flatly refused to summon a jury under the new terms.
They were imprisoned. A writ was issued to enforce
the University charter and for the appearance of
the mayor and corporation to answer a suit in
chancery.
The same year (1529) the University, not being
able to obtain the assistance of the bailiffs, ordered the
bedels to summon a jury for their leet. The city
bailiffs closed the door of the Guildhall, so that the
court thus summoned could not be held. This device
they adopted repeatedly. On one occasion Wolsey
proposed to submit the question to the arbitration of
More. But the city perceived their danger and
unanimously refused,

“for,” they remarked, <(by such arbitraments in time past,

the Commissary & procters & their officers of the University
hath usurped & daily usurpeth upon the town of divers
matters contrary to their compositions.”
293
 Oxford and its Story

The struggle passed through several stages. The

mayor, one Michael Hethe by name, refused to take
the customary oath at -S. Mary’s to maintain the
privileges of the University. Proceedings were in¬
stituted against him. His answer, when he was
summoned to appear at S. Mary’s Church and show
cause why he should not be declared perjured and
excommunicate, was couched in very spirited terms :
££ Recommend me unto your master, and shew him, I am
here in this town the King’s Grace’s lieutenant for lack of a
better, and I know no cause why I should appear before him.
I know him not for my ordinary.”
The court pronounced him contumacious, and sentenced
him to be excommunicated. He was obliged to
demand absolution, but he did not abate the firmness,
of his attitude when he obtained it, for he flatly
refused to promise 65 to stand to the law and to obey
the commands of the Church,” though that promise
was proposed as a necessary condition of absolution
being granted.
Before the end of this year (1530) the town made
a direct petition to the King against the University, in
which the chief incidents in the hard-fought battle are
recounted in detail. Complaint is made, for instance,
that the commissary
“Doth take fourpence for the sale of every horse-lode of
fresh salmon, & one penny of every seme of fresshe herrings,
which is extorcyon and again “ Another time he sent for
one William Falofelde & demanded of him a duty that he
should give him a pint of wine of every hogshead that he
did set a-broach, for his taste. And the said William -
answered and said that he knew no such duty to be had, if
he knew it he would gladly give it. And thereupon the
said Commissary said he would make him know that it was
his duty & so sent him to prison : and so ever since, for
fear of imprisonment, the said William Falofelde hath sent
him wine when he sent for it, which is to the great losse and
hindrance of the said William Falofelde.”
294
Oxford and the Reformation

In order to compel submission on the part of

the city, the mayor and twenty of the citizens were
discommoned in 1533, so that
tlno schoilar nor none of their servants, should boy nor sell
with none of them, neither eat nor drink in their houses,
under pain of for every time of so doing to forfeit to the
Commissary of 6s. and 8d.”

For twenty years the quarrel dragged on, till at

last both parties grew weary. In 1542 arbitrators
were called in, and Wolsey’s charter was repealed.
But under Elizabeth, when in Leicester they had
elected a Chancellor of sufficient power to represent
their interests, the University began to endeavour to
regain the privileges and franchises which, as they
maintained, had only been in abeyance. An Act of
Parliament was procured which confirmed the old
obnoxious charter of 1523, but'with a clause of all
the liberties of the mayor and town. This clause led
the way to fresh, acts of aggression on either side, and
renewed recriminations and disputes until, on the
report of two judges, a series of orders was promulgated
by the Privy Council (1575), intended to set at rest
the differences between the two bodies for ever. But
the result fell short of the intention. The opposition
at this time had been led by one William Noble, who
lived in the old house known as Le Swynstock.
Smarting under the sting of false imprisonment, Noble
commenced suits in the Star Chamber against the
University, and presented petitions both against that
body and the mayor and citizens. His popularity was
such that he was elected Member of Parliament for
the city.
Wolsey, as we have seen, had taken some steps
towards establishing public lectureships in the University.
But he provided no permanent endowment for these
chairs. His designs developed into a grander scheme.
295
 Oxford and its Story

He determined to found a college which, in splendour

and resources, should eclipse even the noble foundations
of Wykeham and Waynflete, a college where the
secular clergy should study the New Learning and use
it as a handmaid or Theology and in the service of the
old Church. And as Wykeham had established in
connection with his college a school at Winchester, so
Wolsey proposed to found at his birth-place, Ipswich,5
and ^ at Oxford, two sister-seats of learning and
religion.
^Through the darkness and stagnation of the
fifteenth century a few great men had handed on the
torch of learning and of educational ideals. The
pedigree of Christ Church is clearly traceable through
Magdalen and New College back to Merton.
Wolsey at Magdalen had learnt to appreciate, in the
most beautiful of all the homes of learning, something
of the aims of . the great school-master bishop,
Waynflete. And Waynflete himself, can we doubt?
had^ caught from Wykeham the enthusiasm for pro¬
ducing “ rightly and nobly ordered minds and charac¬
ters. ^ At Oxford, at Winchester and at Windsor he
had lived under the shadow of the great monuments
of Wykeham’s genius, and learned to discern “ the
true nature of the beautiful and graceful, the simplicity
of beauty in style, harmony and grace.” So that in
the architecture of his college—and Architecture, as
Plato tells us, as all the other Arts, is full of grace
and harmony, which are the two sisters of goodness
and virtue—he was enabled to fulfil the Platonic ideal
and to provide the youth whom he desired to benefit
with a home, where they might dwell “in a land of
health and fair sights and sounds, and receive the good
in everything, and where beauty, the effluence of fair
works, might flow into the eye and ear like a health-
giving breeze from a purer region, and insensibly draw
1 The foundation-stone of his school at Ipswich is pre¬
served in the Chapter House of the Cathedral.
296
Oxford and the Reformation

the soul from earliest years into likeness and sympathy

with the beauty of reason.” Inspired by such ex¬
amples, Wolsey set himself to build a college which
should eclipse them,

“ Though unfinished, yet so famous.

So excellent in art and yet so rising,
That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.”

Indeed, says Fuller, nothing mean could enter into

this man’s mind.
Immense, as were his private resources, they could
not bear the strain of his magnificent plans. He
therefore seized upon . the idea of appropriating the
property of the regular clergy and applying it to the
foundation and endowment of Cardinal’s College.
The time was ripe. for some such conversion.
Monasticism was outworn. Whatever the merits of
some few monasteries might be, whatever the piety of
an occasional Abbot Samson, or the popularity of a
monkish institution which did its duty of charity and
instruction in this or that part of the country, the
monks as a rule had ceased to live up to their original
standard. They had accumulated wealth and lost
their hold on the people. And where they were
popular, it was in many cases with the people they
had pauperised. To a statesman with so keen an
insight and so broad a mind as Wolsey, it must have
seemed both wise and safe to take this opportunity of
suppressing some of the English priories. ' Had not
Chicheley, when the alien priories had been suppressed
on political grounds, secured some of their lands for
the endowment of his foundation, All Souls’ College?
His first step was to obtain a bull from the Pope
and the assent of the King, authorising him (1524)
to suppress the Priory of S. Frideswide and transfer
the canons to other houses of the- Augustinian order.
297
 Oxford and its Story

Their house and revenues, amounting to about 220,

were assigned to the proposed college of secular clerks.
The scale of that college is indicated by the fact,
that it - was to consist of a dean and sixty canons, forty
canons of inferior rank, besides thirteen chaplains,
twelve lay clerks, sixteen choristers and a teacher of
music, for the service of the Church. Six public
professors were to be appointed in connection with the
college.
A. few months later another bull, which' premised
that divine service could not be properly maintained in
monasteries which contained less than seven professed
members, empowered Wolsey to suppress any number
of such small religious houses all over the country.
This he proceeded to do, and to transfer the inmates
to other' monasteries. Their revenues, to an amount
not exceeding 3000 golden ducats, were to be devoted
to the new college.
The plan of thus concentrating the resources of the
small and scattered religious houses was both economical
and statesmanlike. But, in its execution, it gave rise
to fear and irritation, of which Wolsey’s political
enemies were quick to avail themselves. The perturba¬
tion of the monks is well expressed in Fuller’s happy
metaphor: rr/
. e< ^is Proceedings made all the forest of religious founda¬
tions in England to shake, justly fearing the King would
timsn to fell the oaks, seeing the Cardinal began to cut the
underwood.”

Wolsey found it necessary to write to his royal

master more than once to contradict the mis-representa-
tions of his opponents. The King had been informed
that monks and abbots had been turned out to starve.
Wolsey declared that what he had done was iC to the
full satisfaction, recompense and joyous contentation 33
of all concerned. The King complained that some of
298
Oxford and the Reformation

the monasteries would not contribute to his necessities

as much as they had contributed to the Cardinal’s
scheme. Wolsey replied that he had indeed received
44 from divers mine old lovers and friends right loving
and favourable aids towards the edifying of my said
College,” but added that these had been justly obtained
and exaggerated in amount. But he promised in future
to take nothing from any religious person.
Meantime he had set about building Cardinal’s
College with extraordinary energy and on an enormous
scale. The foundation stone was laid on 15th July
1525. Whilst the Chapter-house and refectory of the
old monastery were kept, the western bays of the
church were removed to make way for the great -quad¬
rangle. The Chapel of S. Michael at South Gate was
demolished, and part of the old town wall was thrown
down. Room was thus made for the buildings on the
south side of the quadrangle. These, the first portion
of the college to be finished, were the kitchen and that
hall which, in its practical and stately magnificence,
can scarcely be equalled In England or surpassed in
Europe. But the fact that it was the kitchen and
dining-room which first reached completion gave an
opportunity to the wits.
c{ Egregium opus. Cardinalis iste instituit Collegium, et
absolvit popinam.”

So runs one epigram, which being freely translated is :

“ The Mountains were in labour once, and forth there came

a mouse:—
Your Cardinal a College planned, and built an eating-
house I ”

It wras part of Wolsey’s design to gather into his

college all the rising intellect of Europe. In pursuance
of this plan, he induced certain scholars from Cambridge
to migrate thither. But they it was, so men afterwards
299.
 Oxford and its Story

complained, who first introduced the taint of heresy

into Oxford. For at first the University was as strictly
orthodox as her powerful patron, who^ hated 44 the
Hellish Lutherans,” could wish. When Martin
Luther (1517) nailed his ninety-five theses on the
church door of Wittenberg, in protest against what
Erasmus had called 44 the crime of false pardons,” the
sale of indulgences, his protest found no echo here.
On the contrary, the Masters in convocation gladly
elected three representative theologians who attended
Wolsev’s conference in London, and condemned the
noxious doctrines of the German reformer. A com¬
mittee of theologians was also held at Oxford, and
their condemnation of Luther’s teaching won the warm
approval of the University. But the leaven of
Lutheranism had already been introduced. The
Cambridge students, whom Wolsey had brought to be
canons of Cardinal College, began to hold secret meet¬
ings and to disseminate Lutheran treatises. They
made proselytes; they grew bolder, and nailed upon
the church doors at nights some famous 44 libels and
bills.”
Archbishop Warham presently found himself
obliged to take notice of the growing sect. He wrote
to Wolsey invoking his aid,

44 that the captains of the said erroneous doctrines be

punished to the fearful example of all other. One or two
cankered members,” he explains, “have induced no small
number of young and incircumspect fools to give ear unto
them,” and he proposes that the Cardinal should give « in
commission to some sad father which was brought up in the
University to sit and examine them.”

Active measures were now taken to stamp out the

heresy in Oxford. Wolsey ordered the arrest of a
certain Thomas Garret of Magdalen, a pernicious
heretic who had been busy selling Tyndale’s Bible and
300
Oxford and the R eformation

the German reformer’s treatises, not only to Oxford

students, but even to the Abbot of Reading* His
friends managed to get him safely out of Oxford, but
for some reason or other he returned after three days.
The same night he was arrested in bed in the house of
one Radley, a singing-man, where it was well known
that the little Lutheran community was wont to meet.
Garret was not detained in Rocardo, but in a cellar
underneath the lodgings of the commissary, Dr
Cottisford, Rector of Lincoln. Whilst the com¬
missary was at evensong he managed to escape, and
made his way to the rooms of Anthony Dalaber, one
of the£C brotherhood,” at Gloucester College. Dalaber
has left an account—it is a most tearful tale—of the
events which ensued. He had previously had some
share in getting Garret away from Oxford, and was
greatly surprised to see him back. He provided him
with a coat in place of his tell-tale gown and hood,
and sent him off with tears and prayers to Wales,
whence he hoped to escape to Germany. After
reading the tenth chapter of S. Matthew’s Gospel
with many a deep sigh and salt tear, Dalabar went
to Cardinal College to give Master Clarke, a leading
brother, notice of what had occurred. On his way
he met William Eden, a fellow, of Magdalen, who
with a pitiful countenance explained to him that they
were all undone. Dalaber was able to give him the
joyful news of Garret’s escape, and proceeded to S.
Frideswide’s.
“ Evensong,” he says, “was begun, and the Dean and
the other Canons were there in their grey amices; they
were almost at Magnificat before I came thither. I stood at
the Choir door and heard Master Taverner play, and others
of the Chapel there sing, with and among whom I myself
was wont to sing also. But now my singing and music
were turned into sighing and musing. As I thus and there
stood, in cometh Dr Cottysford, as fast as ever he could go,
' ' 301
 Oxford and its Story

bareheaded, as pale as ashes—I knew his grief well enough,

and to the Dean he goeth into the Choir, where he was
sitting in his stall, and talked with him very sorrowfully.”

Dalaber describes the interview which followed,

outside the choir, between these two and Dr London,
the Warden of New College, “ puffing, blustering and
blowing, like a hungry and greedy lion seeking his
prey.55 The commissary was so much blamed, that
he wept for sorrow. Spies were sent out in every
direction ; and when Dalaber returned to his rooms
next morning, he found that they had been thoroughly
searched. He had spent the night with the “ brethren,55
supping at Corpus (“at which supper we were not
very merry75), sleeping at S. Alban Hall, consulting
together and praying for the wisdom of the serpent,
and the harmless ness of the dove. This request would
appear to have been in some measure vouchsafed to
him, for, when he was interrogated by the prior as to
his own movements and those of Garret, he was
enabled to furnish forth a tale full of circumstantial
detail but wholly untrue. “ This tale,55 he observes,
“ I thought meetest, but it was nothing so.55 Although
it were nothing so, he repeated his convincing narra¬
tive on oath, when he was examined at Lincoln
College by Cottisford, Higdon (Dean of CardinaPs
College) and London. He had sworn on a great
Mass book laid before him to answer truly, but, as he
complacently observes, “ in my heart nothing so meant
to do.55 Nor, perhaps, did he mean to betray twenty-
two of his associates, and the storehouse of Garret’s
books, when examined by Dr London, whom he calls
the “ rankest, papistical Pharisee of them all55—at
any rate he omits to mention the fact in his narrative.
Of Garret himself, however, no trace could be
found; and the commissary, being “ in extreme
pensyfness,55 consulted an astrologer, who made a
302
Oxford and the Reformation

figure for him, and told him, with all the cheerful
certainty of an eastern astrologer In these days, that
Garret, having fled south-eastward in a tawny coat,
was at that time in London, on his way to the sea¬
side. Consulting the stars was strictly forbidden by the
Catholic Church, but the Warden of New College,
though a Doctor of Divinity, was not ashamed to
Inform the bishop of the astrologer’s saying, or afraid
to ask him to Inform the Cardinal, Archbishop of
York, concerning It. Luckily for him the commissary
did not rely wholly on the information either of
Dalaber or the astrologer. The more practical
method of watching the seaport towns resulted a few
days later in Garret’s recapture near Bristol. Many
of the Oxford brotherhood were also Imprisoned and
excommunicated. Garret, who had written a piteous
letter to Woisey, praying for release, not from the iron
bonds which he said he justly deserved, but from the
more terrible bonds of excommunication, and who had
also made a formal recantation of all his heresies, was
allowed to escape. But first he took part in a pro¬
cession, In which most of the other prisoners also
appeared, carrying faggots from S. Mary’s Church to
S. Frideswide’s, and on the way casting Into a
bonfire made at Carfax for the purpose certain books
which had most likely formed part of Garret’s stock.
At least three of the prisoners, however, died In
prison without having been readmitted to Communion,
either from the sweating sickness then raging, or, as
Foxe asserts, from the hardships they endured. For
they were kept, he says, for nearly six months in a
deep cave under the ground, on a diet of salt fish. By
Higdon’s orders they did at least receive a Christian
burial.
The heretics were crushed in Oxford, but elsewhere
the movement grew apace. The printing press
3°3
 Oxford and its Story

scattered wide-cast books and pamphlets which openly

attacked the corruption of the Church and the monastic
orders. Henry determined to proscribe all books that
savoured of heresy. . A joint committee of Oxford and
Cambridge theologians was .summoned to meet in
London. They .examined and condemned the sus¬
pected books which were submitted to them. The
publication of English treatises upon Holy Scripture
without ecclesiastical sanction was forbidden by royal
proclamation. Versions of the Bible in the vulgar
tongue were at the same time proscribed.
Yet .this orthodox king, to whom as “Defender of
the Faith,” Leo X. had sent a sword still preserved in
the Ashmolean, was on the brink of a breach with
Rome. For Henry, with his curious mania for
matrimony, had determined to marry Anne Boleyn
but he failed to obtain from the Papal Legates in
England a decree for the dissolution of his marriage.
It was a failure fraught with enormous consequences.
The fortunes of Oxford were involved in it. The
King gladly availed himself of the suggestion of a
Cambridge scholar, Thomas Cranmer, that' the
Universities should be called on for their judgment.
1 hey were thus placed in. a position analogous to that
or an oecumenical council with power to control a
pontifical decree. For the Pope’s predecessor had
granted a dispensation for Henry’s marriage with
Catherine, his brother’s wife. Every learned man in
Europe, but for bribery or threats, would have
condemned Henry’s cause on its merits. But it was
evident that the question would not be decided on its
merits.
_ From a packed commission at Cambridge a decision
favourable to a divorce was with difficulty extoxted ;
but even so it was qualified by an important reservation,
Ihe marriage was declared illegal, if it could be
304 ■
Oxford and the Reformation

proved that Catherine’s marriage with Prince Arthur

bad been consummated. Cambridge was praised by
the King for her 44 wisdom and good conveyance.”
Yet that reservation, if the testimony of the Queen
herself was to go for anything, amounted to a con¬
clusion against the divorce.
It was not expected that a favourable verdict would
be obtained so easily from Oxford. At the end of his
first letter, in which the King called upon the
University to declare their minds 44 sincerely and truly
without any abuse,” a very plain threat is added, which
left no doubt as to the royal view of what could be
considered 44 sincere and true ” :
u And in case ye do not uprightly according to divine
learning handle yourselves herein, ye may be assured that
we, not without great cause, shall so quickly and sharply
look to your unnatural misdemeanour therein that it shall
not be to your quietness and ease hereafter.”

It was proposed that the question should be referred

to a packed committee. But the Masters of Arts
refused to entrust the matter wholly to the Faculty of
Theology. They claimed to nominate a certain
number of delegates. Their attitude provoked sharp
reproval and further threats from the imperious
monarch. The youths of the University were warned
not to play masters, or they would soon learn that 44 it
is not good to stir up a hornets’ nest.”
Persuasion was used by the Archbishop and the
Bishop of Lincoln. The example of Paris and
Cambridge was quoted. The aid of Dr Foxe, who
had proved his skill by obtaining the decree at Cam¬
bridge, was called in. Learned arguments were pro¬
vided by Nicholas de Burgo, an Italian friar. But
there was no doubt about the popular feeling on the
question. Pieces of hemp and rough drawings of
gallows were affixed to the gate of the bishop’s
U 305
 Oxford and its Story

.lodging; both he and Father Nicholas were pelted

with stones in the open street; the women of Oxford
supported Catherine with such vehemence, that thirty
of them had to be shut up in Bocardo. The Kin*
had dispatched two of his courtiers to Oxford the
Duke of Suffolk and Sir William Fitzwilliam. 5The
former imprisoned the women ; the latter distributed
money to the more venal of the graduates. «No
indifferency was used in the whole matter.” Threats
and bribes at last prevailed. A committee carefully
packed was appointed with power to decide in the
name of the University. A verdict was obtained
which corresponded to the Cambridge decree. The
important reservation, “if the marriage had been con¬
summated,” was added to the decision that marriage
with the widow of a deceased brother was contrary
to the divine and human law. ^
# Cranmer, who had succeeded Warham as Arch¬
bishop of Canterbury, pronounced the King’s marriage
with Catherine null and void. In the following year
the University was asked to concur in the foregone
decision in favour of separation from Rome. The
authority of the Pope in England was abolished, and
the monasteries were rendered liable to visitation by
commission under the Great Seal. The Act of
Supremacy followed. Bishop Fisher and Sir Thomas
More were executed for denying the royal supremacy,
and Thomas Cromwell was appointed Vicar-General
of England.
His failure to procure a decree invalidating Henry’s
marriage meant the downfall of Wolsey. His down¬
fall involved the fortunes of his college. It was
rumoured at once that the buildings were to be de¬
molished, because they bore at every prominent point
escutcheons carved with the arms of the proud Cardinal
Wolsey had “ gathered into his College whatsoever
306
Oxford and the Reformation

excellent thing there was in the whole realm.” The

rich vestments and ornaments with which he had
furnished S. Frideswide’s Church were quickly
a disposed ” by the King. The disposal of this and
other property, lands, offices, plate and tapestries for¬
feited under the statute of Praemunire, and carefully
catalogued for his royal master by the fallen minister,
had obvious pecuniary advantages. And as in
London, York Place, the palace which the Cardinal
had occupied and rebuilt as Archbishop of York,
was confiscated and its name changed to Whitehall,
so, when “ bluff Harry broke into the spence,” he
converted Cardinal’s College into “ King Henry
VIII.’s College at Oxford’5 consisting of a dean and
twelve canons only (1532).
Henry had been besought to be gracious to the
college; but he replied that it deserved no favour at
his hands, for most of its members had opposed his
wishes in the matter of the divorce. The prospect
of the dissolution of his college at Oxford, fore¬
shadowed by that of his great foundation at Ipswich,
caused Wolsey infinite sorrow. To Thomas Cromwell
he wrote that he could not sleep for the thought of
it, and could not write unto him for weeping and
sorrow. He appealed with all the passion of despair
to the King and those in power, that the u sharpness
and rigour of the law should not be visited upon these
poor innocents.” In response to a petition from the
whole college, Henry replied that he would not
dissolve it entirely. He intended, he said, to have
an honourable college there,
“ but not so great or of such magnificence as my Lore
Cardinal intended to have, for it is not thought meet for
the common weal of our realm. Yet we will have a College
honourably to maintain the service of God and literature.**
The purely ecclesiastical foundation of 1532 was
307
 Oxford and its Story

not calculated to maintain the service of literature. It

was surrendered twelve years afterwards to the King,
whose commissioners received on the same day the
surrender of the Cathedral Church of Christ and the
Blessed Virgin Mary at Osney, the new cathedral
body formed at the ancient abbey upon the creation
of the see and diocese of Oxford (1542). The
way was thus cleared for the final arrangement by
which (4th November 1546) the episcopal see was'
transferred from Osney and united with the collegiate
corporation under the title it bears to-day, Ecclesia
Christi Cathedralis Oxon; ex fundatione Regis
Henrici Octavi. Thus S. Frideswide’s Church
became the Cathedral Church of Christ in Oxford,
and also the chapel of the college now at last called
Christ Church. The foundation now consisted of a
dean, eight canons, eight chaplains, sixty scholars and
forty children, besides an organist, singing men,
servants and almsmen. It was still, then, a founda¬
tion of extraordinary magnificence.
Yet there were not wanting “greedy wretches to
gape after the lands belonging to the Colleges.” They
urged Henry to treat them as he had treated the
monasteries. But the King refused.

a Ah, sirrah,” he replied to one, “ I perceive the Abbey

lands have fleshed you, and set your teeth on edge, to ask also
those Colleges. And whereas we had a regard only to pull
down sin by defacing the monasteries, you have a desire also
to overthrow all goodness by subversion of Colleges. I tell
you, sirs, that I judge no land in England better bestowed
than that which is given to our Universities; for by their
maintenance our realm shall be well governed when we
be dead and rotten. . . I love not learning so ill that
1 will impair the revenues of any one house by a penny,
wherby it may be upholden.”

Henry, in fact, may be credited with a genuine

desire for the promotion of learning. He had, besides,
3°8
Oxford and the Reformation

00 reason to quarrel with the University. It had

proved subservient to his will; the colleges were
nurseries of the secular clergy, who adopted the new
order of things. They could not be regarded like
the monks, as mercenaries of a foreign and hostile
power.
But academic enthusiasm was not to be promoted
by the despotic methods of Henry. The arbitrary
restrictions of the Six Articles, 44 that sure touchstone
of a man’s conscience,” struck at the root of intellectual
liberty. The revival of academic life which had
resulted from the stimulus of the Catholic Renaissance,
was suddenly and severely checked by the early
developments of the Reformation. The monasteries
had been dissolved, and the poor students whom they
had supported trudged a-begging. Another outbreak
of plague helped to increase the depopulation of the
University. The town suffered severely from both
causes. The halls and hostels stood empty ; very few
degrees were taken. Religious controversy usurped
the place of education. The University became a
centre of politics and ecclesiasticism. The schools
were deserted or occupied by laundresses; and, whilst
commissioners were busy applying tests, expelling
honest fellows, destroying MSS. and smashing organs,
men began to discover that, through the invention of
printing, it had become possible for them to educate
themselves. They no longer needed to go to a
monastery or college library to obtain a book; teach¬
ing needed no longer to be merely oral. The
multiplication of books decentralised learning. With
the monopoly of manuscripts and the universality of
Latin were taken almost at a moment’s notice two of
the chief assets of mediaeval Universities. A man
might now read what he liked, and where he liked,
instead of being obliged to listen to a master in the
309
 Oxford and its Story

schools teaching set subjects that did not interest him.

And no “ test55 was required of the independent reader.
No wonder that, as one preacher dismally exclaimed,
the Wells of Learning, Oxford and Cambridge, were
dried up.
The King had taken the charters of both University
and town into his own hands in 1530. He did not
restore them till 1543. Two years later Parliament
made over all colleges and chantries to the King,
“ who gave them very good counsel.” Meanwhile,
in 1535, a Visitation of the University had been held.
Ur London and Richard Layton were the chief
Visitors. Their object was to establish ecclesiastical
conformity, to supplant the old scholastic teaching and
to promote classical learning. They confirmed the
public lectures in Greek and Latin which they found,
and established others, at Magdalen, New College,
and C.C.C., and they settled other lectures of the
kind at Merton and Queen’s. The other colleges,
they found, could not afford to have such lectures, and
accordingly they directed the students of these to attend
the courses at the others daily. The study of Aristotle
and the Holy Scriptures was enjoined, and the King
founded Regius Professorships in Divinity, Hebrew,
Greek, Medicine and Civil Law. The University
meantime was rewarded for its compliance by being
exempted from the payment of tithes. At the same
time the professors of the Old Learning were ousted
from the academic chairs. Duns Scotus was dragged
from his pedestal with an ignominy which recalled the
fate of Sejanus.

uWe have set Duns in Bocardo,”' wrote Layton, u and

have utterly banished him Oxford for ever with all his blind
glosses. . . . The second time we came to New College,
after we had declared your injunctions we found all the
great Quadrant Court full of the leaves of Dunse, the wind
310
Oxford and the Reformation

blowing them into every corner. And there we found one

Mr Greenfield, a gentleman of Buckinghamshire, gathering
up part of the same book leaves, as he said, to make him
sewells or blawnshers to keep the deer within his wood,
therby to have the better cry with his hounds.”

That day the downfall of scholasticism in England

was at last complete.
During the minority of Edward VI. 44 there was
great expectation in the University what religion would
be professed.” It was soon evident which way the
wind was to blow. Young men began to 44 protest ”
in Magdalen Chapel. In 1548 the Protector Somerset
and Cranmer determined to reform the University
in the interests of the Anglican Church. Theologians
were invited from the Continent, and in default of
Melancthon, Peter Martyr arrived and lectured in the
Divinity Schools on the Epistles of S. Paul and the
Eucharist. His teaching roused protest from the
Roman Catholics, and polemical divinity, if no other
study, flourished for a while in Oxford. But a com¬
mission was now appointed with large powers, which
proceeded to draw up a code of statutes calculated to
eliminate all popery from the constitution of the
University. The 44 Edwardine statutes,” as they
were called, remained nominally in force till the
44 Laudian” statutes replaced them.
The commissioners dealt severely with the colleges.
Many of the fellows who had opposed the Reforma¬
tion fled forthwith; others they ejected and replaced
by rigid Calvinists. 44 All things,” the Roman
Catholics thought, 44 were turned topsy turvy.” •‘The
disciplinary injunctions and acts of the commissioners
were wholly admirable. Unfortunately their fanaticism
in other directions was of the deplorably iconoclastic
sort.
The ancient libraries were rifled; many MSS.,
311
 Oxford and its Story

guilty of no other superstition than red letters in their

titles, .were condemned to the fire. 44 Treatises on
scholastical divinity were let loose from their chains
and given away or sold to mechanics for servile uses,
whilst those wherin angles or mathematical diagrams
appeared were destroyed because accounted Popish or
diabolical or both/5 The works of the schoolmen
were carried about the city 44 by certain rude young
men 55 on biers and finally burnt in the market-place, a
proceeding which they styled the funeral of Scotus
and Scotists. Some of the books from monasteries
were sold at this time to grocers and soap-sellers, and
some by shiploads to bookbinders abroad, 44 to the
wondering of foreign nations/5 says Bale.
From wall and window, the order had gone forth
giving sanction to the popular movement, every picture,
every image commemorating saint or prophet or apostle
was to be extirpated. Painted glass, as at New
College, survives to show that the order was imperfectly
obeyed. But everywhere the statues crashed from
their niches, rood and rood-loft were laid low and the
sun-light stared In, white and stainless, on the whitened
aisles. At Magdalen the high altar and various images
and paintings were destroyed, the "organ burnt and the
vestments sold. At Christ Church the dean and
chapter decided that all altars, statues, images, taber¬
nacles, missals and other matters of superstition and
idolatry should be removed out of the Cathedral; and
the other colleges and churches followed this example.
The magnificent reredos in the chapel of All Souls5,
of which the present work is a conjectural restoration,
was smashed; most of the stained glass there was
broken, and the altars were removed together with
44 the thing they call an organ/5
The Edwardine commissioners proposed to abolish
the grammar schools founded in connection with the
312
Oxford and the Reformation

colleges. The city, however, immediately petitioned

the King on behalf of the schools:

“ Where your poor orators have always had received and

enjoyed by the means of your Colleges founded by your
grace’s most noble progenitor’s singular treasure, help &
commodity for the education of their sons, and especially the
more part of us being not otherwise able to bring up our
children in good learning and to find them at grammar. . . .
There be in danger to be cast out of some college thirty,
some other forty or fifty, some other more or fewer, 8c the
most part of them children of your poor orators, having of
the said college meat, drink, cloth & lodging & were verie
well brought up in learning in the common grammar scoole
at the College of S. Marie Magdalen, & so went forward &
attained to logicke & other faculties at the charges of the
said College & likewise of other houses and little or nothing
at the charge of their parents, after their admission into any
of the said colleges, wh. thing hath always heretofore been
a great succour unto your said poor orators.”

The petition was successful, though some schools were

suppressed.
Magdalen College School, thus preserved, was
intended by the founder to be to Magdalen what
Winchester was to New College. It had been housed
in his life-time in a building (1480), a picturesque
fragment of which yet remains, in what is known as
the Grammar Hall. The Grammar School buildings
stood outside the west gate of the college, on the
ground between the modern S. Swithun’s buildings
and the present “ Grammar Hall,” which belonged in
part to this school building and in part (including the
south portion and the little bell-tower) to other
buildings that were added to it (1614). All these
buildings, save the fragment that remains to be used as
undergraduates5 rooms, were removed in 1845 together
with the houses that faced the gravel walk between
them and Long Wall. The present school-room,
facing the High, was erected shortly afterwards
313
 Oxford and its Story

(Buckler), in the Perpendicular style, and recently

(1894), across the bridge, on the site once occupied by
Turrets Hall, a handsome, house for the master and
fifty boarders has been built (Sir Arthur Blomfield).
At the same time the ground by the river below the
bridge was converted into gardens and a cricket
ground for the choristers and schoolboys, a conversion
which has greatly improved the aspect of the bridge.
 CHAPTER VII

The Oxford Martyrs

The Catholic Reaction—Cranmer, Ridley and Latimer in

Bocardo—Latimer and' Ridley at the stake—Cranmer
recants—And recants his recantation—His martyrdom
— The Colleges of Trinity and S. John mark this
epoch.

THE sufferings of the Protestants had failed to

teach them the value of religious liberty. The
use of the new liturgy was enforced by imprisonment,
and the subscription to the Articles of Faith was
demanded by royal authority from all the clergy and
schoolmasters. The excesses of the Protestants led
to a temporary but violent reaction.
The married priests were driven from their churches ;
the images were replaced, the new prayer book was
set aside, the mass restored. Ridiey and the others
who had displaced the deposed bishops were expelled ;
Latimer and Cranmer were sent to the Tower.
After the failure of Wyatt’s rebellion and the defeat
of the Protestants, Mary set herself to enforce the
submission of England to the Pope.
With the restoration of the system of Henry VIII.
the country was satisfied. But Mary was not content
to stop there.
The statutes against heretics were revived. The
bigotry of Mary knew no restraint. She ferreted out
Protestants all over the country, and for three and
3*5
 Oxford and its'Story

a half years England experienced a persecution which

was insignificant if judged by continental standards,
but which has left an indelible impression on the minds
of men. Nearly three hundred Protestants were
burnt at the stake, and among them Latimer, Ridley
and Cranmer—all Cambridge men—at Oxford.
The accession of Mary had caused much dismay
in the hearts of the Protestants in that city. The
Queen’s proclamation as to religion on 18th August
1553, was followed two days after by letters to the
Chancellors of Oxford and Cambridge enjoining the
full observance of the ancient statutes. A special
letter from the Queen was sent to Magdalen annulling
the ordinances made contrary to the statutes since the
death of Henry VIII. Prudent Protestants who
had made themselves prominent in their colleges now
wisely took leave of absence from Oxford. Peter
Martyr left the country; and his place was soon
afterwards taken by a Spanish friar from the court
of Philip and Mary. Commissioners arrived, and
were shocked to find that at Magdalen, for example,
there was no priest to say mass, and no fellow who
would hear it; there was no boy to respond, no
altar and no vestments. Visitors were sent by Stephen
Gardiner to New College, Magdalen and C.C.C.
Many fellows were ejected, and mass was restored.
The work of death had now begun. Thomas
Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, Nicholas Ridley,
Bishop of London, and Hugh Latimer, Bishop of
Worcester, were removed from the Tower in March
and placed in the custody of the mayor and bailiffs
of Oxford. For preparations had been made to
examine them before a commission appointed from
both the Universities. They were lodged at first
in Bocardo, the town prison, now become, as Ridley
observed, “a very College of Quondams.” Shortly
316
The Oxford Martyrs
afterwards Ridley was removed to the house of an
alderman, and Latimer elsewhere, in order that they
might not confer together. Presently

“ a solemn Convocation was held in S. Mary’s Chance! con-

cerning the business forthwith to. be taken in hand ; which
being concluded all the Doctors and Masters went in a
solemn procession to Carfax and thence to Christ Church,
where they heard Divine service, and so they went to
dinner;1 afterwards they with some others, in number
thirty-three, that were to dispute with the Bishops, met in
Our Lady’s Chapel on the North side of S. Mary’s Church,
and thence going into the Chancel, placed themselves in a
semi-circle by the High Altar.”

To support the platform where they sat the fmials of

the stalls are said to have been then levelled. “ Soon
after was brought in Cranmer (with a great number
of rusty billmen), then Ridley, and last of all Latimer,
to subscribe to certain articles then proposed. They
all denied them.”
On Monday, the 16th April, the Vice-Chancellor
and proctors met at Exeter College and thence went
to the Divinity School, there to dispute with the
bishops on the nature of the Eucharist. The Oxford
and Cambridge doctors took their places, and the
Moderator of the schools presided in his lofty chair.
Cranmer was brought in and set opposite to the latter
in the respondent’s place. By his side was the mayor
of the city, in whose charge he was. Next day it
was Ridley’s turn, and on the third Latimer’s. So
the solemn farce of the disputations, punctuated by
“ opprobrious checks and reviling taunts,” was gone
through ; the bishops were pronounced no members
of the Church, Cranmer was returned to Bocardo,
1 Among the accounts of the Vice-Chancellor is found the
following item : “In wine & marmalade at the great dispu¬
tations Xd.” and again, “ In wine to the Doctors of Cam¬
bridge ns. ”
 Oxford and its Story

Ridley taken to the sheriff’s house and Latimer to

the bailiff’s. The judicial sentence followed the
academical judgment.
In September 1555 a commission was sent down
from London, and sat in the Divinity School. The
two bishops had looked death steadily in the face for
two years, expecting it every day or hour. It was
now come. Ridley was urged to recant, but this he
firmly refused to do or to acknowledge by word or
gesture u the usurped supremacy of Rome.” His
cap, which he refused to remove at the mention of
the Cardinals and the Pope, was forcibly taken off
by a beadle. Latimer when examined was equally
firm. He appeared

<f with a kerchief on his head and upon it a night cap or two
and a great cap such as townsmen use, with two broad flaps
to button under the chin, wearing an old threadbare Bristol
frieze gown, girded to his body with a penny leather girdle,
at the which hanged by a long string of leather his Testa¬
ment and his spectacles without a case, depending about his
neck upon his breast.”

Bread was bread, the aged bishop boldly declared

when asked for his views on transubstantiation, and
wine was wine; there was a change in the Sacrament
it was true, but the change was not in the nature but
the dignity.
The two Protestants were reprieved for the day
and summoned to appear next morning at eight o’clock
in S. Mary’s Church. There, after further examina¬
tion, the sentence of condemnation was pronounced
upon them as heretics obstinate and incurable. And
on 16th October the sentence was fulfilled.
Ridley and Latimer were led out to be burnt, whilst
Cranmer, whose execution had been delayed, since it
required the sanction of Rome, remained in Bocardo,
and ascending to the top of the prison house, or, as an
318
jThe Oxford Martyrs

old print represents it, to the top of S. Michael’s

Tower, kneeled down and prayed to God to strengthen
them.
On the evening of the 15th there had been a supper
at the house of Irish, the mayor, whose wife was a
bigoted and fanatical Catholic. Ridley, as we have
seen, was in their charge, and the members of his
family were permitted to be present. He talked
cheerfully of his approaching “ marriage ”; his
brother-in-law promised to be in attendance and, if
possible, to bring with him his wife, Ridley’s sister.
Even the hard eyes of Mrs Irish softened to tears as
she listened and thought of what was coming. The
brother-in-law offered to sit up through the night, but
Ridley said there was no occasion ; he “ minded to
go to bed and sleep as quietly as ever he did in his
life.” In the morning he wrote a letter to the Queen.
As Bishop of London he had granted renewals of
certain leases on which he had received fines. Bonnor
had refused to recognise them ; and he entreated the
Queen, for Christ’s sake, either that the leases should
be allowed, or that some portion of his own confiscated
property might be applied to the repayment of the
tenants. The letter was long; by the time it was
finished the sheriff’s officers were probably in readiness.
Bocardo, the prison over the North Gate, spanned
the road from the ancient tower of S. Michael’s, and
commanded the approach to Broad Street. Thither,
to a place over against Balliol College, “ those special
and singular captains and' principal pillars of Christ’s
church ” were now led. The frontage of Balliol was
then much further back than it is now ; beyond it lay
open country, before it, under the town wall, ran the
water of the tower-ditch. Some years ago a stake
with ashes round it was found on the site which is
marked by a metal cross in the roadway, at the foot
319
 Oxford and its Story

of the first electric lamp, as the site of the martyrs*

death.1 To this spot then came the two bishops.
Lord Williams of Thame was on the spot by the
Queen’s order ; and the city guard was under arms to
prevent disturbance. Ridley appeared first. He
wore
t( a fair black gown, furred and faced with foins, such as he
was wont to wear being Bishop, and a tippet of velvet furs
likewise about his neck, a velvet nightcap upon his head
and a corner cap upon the same, going in a pair of slippers
to the stake.”

He walked between the mayor and aldermen, and

Master Latimer followed him in the same shabby
attire as that which he had worn on the occasion of his
examination. As they passed towards Bocardo thev
looked up in the hope of seeing Cranmer at the little
glass window. It was from this window 2 that the
Bocardo prisoners used to let down an old hat and cry,
“Pity the Bocardo Birds.” For prisoners in those
days depended for their daily sustenance on the charity
of strangers, even as the prisoners in Portugal or
Morocco do to-day, and “ Bread and meat for the
prisoners ” was a well-known cry in the London
streets. The Parisian version was, “ Aux prisonniers

1 In 1875 stakes and ashes, however, were found also

immediately opposite the tower gateway of Balliol, and this
spot was marked in the eighteenth century as the site of the’
martyrdom. Another view is that the site was, as indicated
by Wood, rather on the brink of the ditch, near the Bishop’s
Bastion, behind the houses south of Broad Street. There
were possibly two sites. I do not think that there is anything
to show that Latimer and Ridley were burned on exactly the
same spot as Cranmer. If Cranmer died opposite the college
gateway, the site marked, but more probably the third
suggested site, near the Bishop’s Bastion, may be that where
Ridley and Latimer perished,
2 The door of the Bishops’ Hole is preserved in S. Mary
Magdalen Church.
320
The Oxford Martyrs

du Palais/5 Cranmer’s attention at this moment was

engrossed by a Spanish friar, who was busy improving
the occasion, and the martyr could not see him. But
Ridley spied Latimer hobbling after him. 46 Oh, be
ye there?” he exclaimed. 44 Yea,” answered the
old man. 46Have after as fast as I can follow! 55
When he reached the stake Ridley ran to Latimer,
“ and with a wondrous cheerful look embraced and
kissed him ” and comforted him, saying, “ Be of good
heart, brother, for God will either assuage the fury of
the flame, or else strengthen us to abide it.55 With
that he went to the stake, kneeled down by it, kissed
it and effectually prayed, and behind him Master
Latimer kneeled, as earnestly calling upon God as he.
The martyrs had now to listen to a sermon from
Dr Smith, who denounced them as heretics, and
exhorted them to recant. The Lord Williams of
Thame, the Vice-Chancellor and other commissioners
sat upon a form close at hand. The martyrs asked
leave of them to reply, but the bailiffs and the Vice-
Chancellor ran up to Ridley and stopped his mouth
with their hands. The martyrs now commended their
souls and their cause to God, and stripped themselves
for the stake, Ridley giving away to the eager crowd
his garments, dials, napkins and nutmegs, whilst some
plucked the points off his hose ; 44 happy was he that
might get any rag of him.55 They were chained to
the stakes, and gunpowder was hung about their necks,
thanks to the' humane care of Ridley’s brother-in-
law. Then men brought a faggot kindled with fire,
and laid the same down at Dr Ridley’s feet, to whom
Master Latimer spake in this manner:
u Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man.
We shall this day light such a candle, by God’s grace, in
England, as l trust shall never be put out.”

Then Latimer crying aloud, 44 O Father of Heaven,

x ' 321
 Oxford and its Story

receive my soul,” bathed his hands in the flame that

blazed tip about him, and stroked his face. The
powder exploded, and he ec soon died with very little
pain or none.” Ridley was less fortunate, for the fire
being lit beneath and the faggots heaped above, the
flames burnt his legs slowly away, and did not ignite
the gunpowder round his neck. Amid cries to heaven
of “ Lord, Lord, receive my soul,” and u Lord have
mercy upon me,” he screamed in his agony to the
bystanders to let the fire come unto him. His
brother-in-law with awkward kindness threw on more
wood, which only kept down the flame. It was not
till the lower part of his body had been burned away
that he fell over, “ and when the flame touched the
gunpowder he was seen to stir no more.”
The lot of Cranmer was still more pathetic, and
made a yet deeper impression upon the popular mind.
He, like the others, had been .examined in S. Mary’s
(7th September 1555). He had appeared clad in a
fair black gown with his hood on his shoulders, such
as Doctors of Divinity used to wear, and in his hand
was a white staff. The aged Archbishop confronted
there the Pope’s Legate, who sat on a raised dais
ten feet high, with cloth of state, very richly and
sumptuously adorned, at the east end of the church.
Summoned to answer to a charge of blasphemy,
incontinency and heresy, he refused as firmly as the
others to recognise the authority of the Bishop of
Rome within this kingdom.
u I protest,” he said, t{ I am no traitor. I have made an
oath to the King and I must obey the King by God’s law.
By the Scripture the King is chief and no foreign person in
his own realm above him. The Pope is contrary to the
Crown. I cannot obey both, for no man can serve two
masters at once. You attribute the keys to the Pope and
the sword to the King. I say the King hath both.”

Before further proceedings were taken against the

322
The Oxford Martyrs

Archbishop, it was necessary to obtain sanction of the

Pope. It was not till the middle of the following
February that the Papal breve arrived and a new
commission came down to Oxford. Sitting before
the high altar in the choir of Christ Church, Thirlby
and Bonnor announced that Cranmer had been tried at
Rome, where, according to the preamble of the Papal
sentence, he had been allowed every opportunity to
answer for himself. “O Lord! ” commented
Cranmer, “ what lies be these ! ” They were directed,
the commissioners continued, to degrade him, ex¬
communicate him and deliver him up to the secular
power. The form of degradation was begun, when
Cranmer appealed to the next Free General Council.
The appeal was refused; the degradation was con¬
tinued. Cranmer was stripped of his vestments, his
hair was shorn, the sacred unction scraped from his
finger-tips, and he was then dressed in a poor yeoman-
beadle’s gown, full bare and nearly worn, and handed
over to the secular power.
“Now are you lord no longer! ” cried Bonnor
when the ceremony was finished. c< All this needed
not,” the Archbishop replied; “ I myself had done
with this gear long ago.”
Cranmer had been three years in prison ; he was an
old man, and his nerve may well have been upset by
the prolonged delay and fear of death and the recent
degradation which he had undergone. There is no
authentic account of what happened to him during the
next few hours. But Protestant tradition relates that
he was taken from the Cathedral to the Deanery of
Christ Church, where he was entertained at his ease
and exposed to the arguments and exhortations of
Soto, the Spanish friar. He was warned at the same
time that the Queen’s mind was so set, that she would
either have Cranmer a Catholic or else no Cranmer at
323
 Oxford and its Story

all He was taken back to his cell that night, and

there his constancy at last gave way. He signed a
series of recantations. Bat the Queen refused to
relent; she had humiliated her enemy, and now he
must die. She fixed the 2 5th of March for the day
of his execution. But first he was called upon to
make a public confession of his recantation. It was a
foul and rainy day when he was brought out of Bocardo
to S. Mary's Church. Peers, knights, doctors,
students, priests, men-at-arms and citizens thronged
the narrow aisles, and through their midst passed the
mayor and next the aldermen in their place and
degree; after them came Cranmer between two
Spanish friars, who, on entering the church, chanted
the Nunc Dimittis. A stage was set over against the
pulpit—the ledge cut for it may still be seen in the
pillar to the left of the Vice-Chancellor's chair—and
here Cranmer was made to stand in his bare and
ragged gown, and old square cap, whilst Dr Cole,
the Warden of New College, preached his funeral
sermon, and justified the sentence that had been
passed, by which, even though he had recanted, he
was condemned to die.
Cole gave this reason and that, and added that
there were others which had moved the Queen and
Council u which were not meet and convenient for
every one to understand." He congratulated the
Archbishop on his conversion, and promised him
that a dirge should be sung for him in every Church
in Oxford. Finally, he called upon the whole con¬
gregation to kneel where they were and to pray for
him. When the prayer was finished the preacher
called upon the Archbishop to make the public con¬
fession of his faith. « Brethren," cried he, “ lest any
man should doubt of this man’s earnest conversion and
repentance, you shall hear him speak before you."
324
The Oxford Martyrs

But the spirit of revenge had overreached itself.

Cranmer’s enemies had hoped to humiliate him to the
uttermost; instead, they gave him the opportunity of
redeeming his fame and adding his name to the roll of
martyrs.
c{ The tongues of dying men
Enforce attention, like deep harmony . .
More are men’s ends marked than their lives before.”

To the astonishment of friends and foes alike, Cranmer

stood up before the congregation, and chanted the
palinode of his forsworn opinions; he recanted his
recantation. Face to face with that cruel death,
which in his weakness he had so desperately striven
to avoid, he made the declaration of his true belief,
46 And now I come,” he concluded,
lt to the great thing which so much troubleth my conscience, ’
more than anything that ever I did or said in my whole life,
and that is the setting abroad of a writing contrary to the
truth ; which now here I renounce and refuse as things
written with my hand, contrary to the truth which I thought
in my heart, and written for fear of death, and to save my
life if it might be ; ... And forasmuch as my hand offended,
writing contrary to my heart, my hand shall first be punished
therefor ; for, may I come to the. fire, it shall be first burned.
As for the Pope I utterly refuse him. as Christ’s enemy and
Anti-Christ, with all his false doctrine; and as for the
Sacrament, I believe as 1 have taught in my book against the
Bishop of Winchester.”

So far he was allowed to proceed before, amidst the

infuriated cries of his enemies, he was pulled down
from the stage and borne away to the stake. “ Priests
who did rue to see him go so wickedly to his death,
ran after him exhorting him,, while time was, to
remember himself.” But Cranmer had remembered
himself at last. He had done with recantations at the
bidding of Spanish priests and 44 bloody ” Bonnor. He
approached the stake with a cheerful countenance, we
are told, undressed in haste and stood upright in his
325
 Oxford and its Story

shirt. The Spanish friars finding they could do

nothing with him, exclaimed the one to the other,
£t Let us go from him, for the devil is in him.”
“ Make short/5 cried Lord Williams, and “ Recant!
recant!55 cried others. The wood was kindled.
u This was the hand that wrote it/5 Cranmer said,
extending his right arm, “ therefore it shall suffer first
punishment.” He held his hand so steadfast and /
immovable in the flame that all men might see it
burned before his body was touched. And so hold¬
ing it he never stirred nor cried till the fire reached
him and he was dead.
A portrait of Cranmer hangs in the Bodleian. But
the chief monument to the Protestant martyrs was
raised in 1841. The Martyrs5 Memorial in S.
Giles’, opposite the west front of Balliol College, was
happily designed by Sir Gilbert Scott in imitation of
the beautiful crosses which Edward I. raised in
memory of Queen Eleanor. The statues of the
martyrs are by Weekes. The north aisle of the
neighbouring Church of S. Mary Magdalen was
restored at the same time in memory of the same event.
Cranmer had atoned for his inconstancy, and
crowned the martyrdoms of the English Reformation.
From that moment the cause of Catholic reaction was
hopeless. Cranmer’s career had not been that of a
saint or a martyr. He was a weak man with a legal
rather than a religious cast of mind. Nothing in his life
became him like the leaving of it. Others more con¬
stant to their belief, and more noble in character, had
died at the stake. But the very weakness of the man
and the pathos of the humiliation of one so highly
placed, appealed to the crowd who could not rise to
heights of unshaken constancy. More easily under¬
stood by the people than the triumphant cry of heroic
sufferers like Latimer, the dramatic end of the Arch-
326
The Oxford Martyrs

bishop filled every independent mind with sympathetic

dread. In vain did Mary heap rewards on the
University. In vain did Cardinal Pole institute a
fresh visitation, hunt all heretics from the University,
burn in the common market-place all English Bibles
and Protestant books that could be found. In vain
did he revise the University and College statutes.
His work was undone as soon as finished. The lesson
of Cranmer’s death had gone home to a thousand
hearts. England refused to be a province of Spain
and of Rome. The news of Mary’s death was
received in Oxford with the ringing of bells and other
signs of discreet delight.
The Catholic Reaction is marked in Oxford history
by the institution of two colleges, Trinity and S.
John’s, both founded on the sites of old monastic
houses by wealthy citizens of London who were lovers
of the old order and adherents of the old religion. In
1555 Sir Thomas Pope, a faithful servant of the
Tudors, who had acquired large tracts of abbey lands
in Oxfordshire, bought the site and vacant buildings
of Durham College, which were then c£mere dog-
kennels,” and the half of the grove which had not
been included in the grant of S. Bernard’s College to
Christ Church. Here he founded the College of the
Holy and Undivided Trinity, consisting of a president,
twelve fellows and eight scholars. And in drawing
up his statutes he availed himself of the advice both of
Elizabeth and Cardinal Pole. The hall was completed
in 1620. In 1665 the decay of the old Durham
buildings made reconstruction imperative. Wren was
the architect. He wished to build a long range in
the upper part of the grove, but the quadrangular form
was preferred ; and he designed the garden quadrangle,
a block in the Renaissance style which was spoilt by
additions and alterations in 1802. The chapel (1691),
327
 Oxford and its Story

which boasts some magnificent carving by Grinling

Gibbons, is, in style, closely akin to the advanced
Palladian of Dean Aldrich’s Church of All Saints’.
He certainly made some suggestions for it, and so did
Wren. The President’s house and New Buildings,
by T. G. Jackson (1883), form, with the iron railings
and old halls, including the old Perilous or Kettle
Hall (1615), that face “ the Broad,” a new and
handsome quadrangle.
It was in 1555, also, that Sir Thomas White, a
rich merchant tailor who had twice been Lord Mayor
of London, chose the site of the suppressed Cistercian
College of S. Bernard for his College of S. John.
A dream, it is said, had warned him to build near a
place where there was a triple elm having three trunks
issuing from one root. Between his college and the
Merchant Taylors’ School in London White estab¬
lished a connection similar to that between Winchester
and New College. The treasure of ecclesiastical vest¬
ments preserved in the library, and the fact that
Edmund Campion, the Jesuit poet and conspirator,
was the fellow chosen to preach the founder’s funeral
sermon, indicate the Roman Catholic sympathies of
the institution. Yet it was an alumnus of this college,
William Laud, whose body was laid in the chapel
(1663), and whose ghost, it is said, still haunts the
library he built and the quadrangle which owes its
completion (1635) to his munificence, who fixed the
University in its sympathy with the High Church
party of the Anglican Church. The classical colon¬
nades and the charming garden front, wherein Inigo
Jones combined the Oxford Gothic with the style
which he had recently learned to love in Italy, form
a fitting background to the most perfect of Oxford
gardens (1750). The first quadrangle retains part of
Chichele’s College of S. Bernard (v. p, 257).
328
 CHAPTER- VIII

Elizabeth5 Bodley and Laud

The Visits of Elizabeth—The Earl of Leicester, Chancellor

—Amy Robsart—Foundation of Jesus, the first of the
Protestant Colleges — Bodley — Wadham College —
Archbishop Laud—The Caroline Statutes—Convocation
House—Charles I. at Oxford.

HpHE University had declined sadly under Mary.

Affairs were not at first greatly improved when
Elizabeth ascended the throne. “Two religions/5
says Wood, “ being now as it were on foot, divers of
the chiefest. of the University retired and absented
themselves till they saw how affairs would proceed.”
It was not long, however, before Queen Elizabeth
appointed a body of Visitors to “make a mild and
gentle, not rigorous reformation.” The Edwardine
system was for the most part restored; the ejected
fellows were brought back, whilst those who refused
to comply with the new Act of Supremacy were
expelled in their turn. Of these the largest number
were New College men. The loss of these scholars
did not improve the state of learning at Oxford. But
in 1564 the Earl of Leicester became Chancellor,
and it is in some part due to him that order was restored
and a regular course of studies once more established.
Queen Elizabeth had been imprisoned at Woodstock
during her sister’s reign, and some of the needlework
which she did when she was there is preserved at the
329
 Oxford and its Story

Bodleian. The University had dispatched a deputa¬

tion to her, with a present of gloves and a congratu¬
latory address upon her accession; she now (31st
August, 1566) paid to Oxford a long-promised visit.
She was welcomed by a deputation from the
University at Godstow Bridge and at Bocardo by the
civic authorities, who there yielded up to her the city
mace, and presented her with a gilt cup and forty
pounds of gold. A Latin oration at the North Gate
and a Greek oration at Carfax were delivered. The
Queen thanked the orator in Greek, and was then
escorted to Christ Church. For three days Disputa¬
tions were held in the royal presence in S. Mary’s
Church. Elizabeth was a good scholar, one re¬
members, taught by Roger Ascham, and she really
seems to have enjoyed this learned function. On the
last day, at any rate, so keen was the argument and
the Queen’s interest in it, that the disputants 44 tired
the sun with talking and sent him down the sky,” so
that the lights had to be lit in the church. At the
end of the Disputations a Latin oration was delivered
in praise of the Queen and her victories over the hosts
of Spain and the Pope. 44 Tuis auspiciis,” the
peroration ran, “Hispania Anglum non vidit nisi
victorem, Anglia Hispanum nisi captivum.”
Loud cries of 44Vivat Regina” resounded through
the church. Elizabeth was pressed to reply. She
pretended to hesitate, suggesting that the Spanish
Ambassador, or Leicester, or Cecil should speak for
her. The courtiers were wise enough to bow dissent.
At length she rose, and her opening words contained
a happy allusion to the growing darkness : “Qui
male agit odit lucem ” ; 44 Do minus illuminatio mea,”
she might have added.
Some relaxation was provided for Her Majesty
in the shape of Latin and English plays which were
33°
 ,
Elizabeth Bodley and Laud

acted in Christ Church Hall 44 upon a large scaffold

erected, set about with stately lights of wax variously
wrought.” The Latin play was entitled “ Marcus
Geminus and Progne ” ; the English play “Palamon
and Arcite,” written by Mr Richard Edwards, and
acted, we are told, with very great applause. “ In
the said play was acted a cry of hounds in the
Quadrant upon the train of a fox in the hunting of
Theseus, with which the young scholars who stood in
the windows were so much taken, supposing it was
real, that they cried out 4 Now, now. There, there.
He’s caught! He’s caught!5 All which the Queen
merrily beholding said, 4 O excellent I Those boys
in very troth are ready to leap out of the window, to
follow the hounds/ ” The play, indeed, was con¬
sidered to surpass 46 Damon and Pythias,” than which
they thought nothing could be better.
The acting of plays of this kind and in this manner
at the Universities as at the Inns of Law on occasions
of high festivity throws considerable light on the de¬
velopment of the Elizabethan drama. The University
Wits, as they were called, began at this period to lay
the foundations of English fiction in their 44 Tales”;
the early English drama received its classical tone and
form from them also. For John Lyly, George Peele,
Thomas Lodge and others were Oxford men.
The Bohemian extravagance of the life of the
44 University Wits ” in London will help us to under¬
stand why it was that Henry Saville, Warden of Merton
(1586), the austere and accomplished scholar, could
not abide wits. He preferred the plodding scholar, and
used to say that if he wanted wits he would look for them
in Newgate. Neither Wits nor their plays, which were
often scurrilous enough, were acceptable to the Puritans,
and within a few years both city and University began
to restrict the performances of plays.
S31
 Oxford and its Story

Queen Elizabeth bade farewell to Oxford on 6th

September, and on that day the walls of S. Mary’s,
Ail Souls’ and University were hung with innumerable
copies of verses bemoaning her departure. By Magdalen
College she took leave of the civic authorities ; the
University officials attended her to Shotover, and there,
at the conclusion of a speech from the Provost of Oriel,
“ she gave him her hand to kiss, with many thanks to
the whole University, speaking then these words, as
’tis reported, with her face towards Oxford. c Fare¬
well the worthy University of Oxford ; Farewell my
good subjects there; Farewell my dear scholars and
pray God prosper your studies. Farewell. Farewell.’ ”
No wonder she won universal homage by cc her sweet,
affable and noble carriage.”
The name of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester,
lover of Elizabeth, is inseparably connected with
Oxford, not only by his chancellorship, but also by
the fact that it is here that his ill-fated wife, Amy
Robsart, is buried. She was found dead at the foot
of the stairs in Cumnor Place. After the inquest
her body was brought to Gloucester Hall, and lay
there till it was buried with full heraldic ceremonial on
22nd September 1560 in the choir of S. Mary’s
Church. The funeral sermon was preached by one of
Dudley’s chaplains, who had just been transferred from
the mastership of Balliol to the rectorship of Lincoln.
He, fumbling for a phrase to express her violent death,
<c tripped once or twice by recommending to his
auditors the virtues of that Lady, so pitifully murdered”
But there is no evidence that Amy Robsart was
murdered, with or without the connivance of Leicester.
The story which Sir Walter Scott has used in
sc Kenilworth ” is the baseless invention of political
enemies. What happened to the unfortunate lady was
either accident or suicide.
332
 ,
Elizabeth Bodley and Laud

The influence of Leicester and the interest which as

Chancellor he took in the University, is marked by
various Acts which had an important effect upon the
course of its development. In 1571 the Chancellor,
masters and scholars received the right of perpetual
succession, and were thus relieved of the necessity of
obtaining a new charter from each succeeding king.
In this year too an Act was passed, supplemented by
further enactments in 1575? by which one-third part
at least of the rents to be reserved in college leases is
required to be payable in com or in malt. The con¬
tinual rise in prices which has resulted ever since
from the increase, and therefore depreciation, of the
precious metals, has thus only impoverished the colleges
so far as rents were fixed in money, but corn having
more or less kept its value, the one-third of the rents
so wisely reserved came to exceed the remainder by
far.
Leicester revived the practice of nominating the
Vice-Chancellor, and by an Act of the University
passed at his instigation (1569) a great step was taken
in the direction of establishing the monopoly of the
colleges in the government of the University. The
preliminary deliberations of the Black Congregation,
consisting of resident masters, were henceforth to be
conducted by the Vice-Chancellor, Doctors, .Heads of
Houses and Proctors.
Leicester earned the reputation of being meddlesome,
and he certainly used his position as Chancellor in the
dispensing of patronage. But many of his reforms
were statesmanlike, and his endeavours to raise the
standard of discipline and learning were evidently
genuine. One of his chief aims was to prevent the
possibility of Romanising priests obtaining a foothold
once more in the University. With this object he
introduced among other provisions a test which was
333
 Oxford and its Story

destined to have the most potent influence on the

history of the place. Every student above sixteen
years of age was now required to subscribe on his
matriculation to the Thirty-nine Articles and the royal
supremacy. Intended to exclude the Romanising party
only, this rule affected in the future mainly the
descendants of the Puritans who enacted it. Thence¬
forth, Mr Brodrick remarks, the University, once
open to all Christendom, was narrowed into an
exclusively Church of England institution and became
the favourite arena of Anglican controversy, developing
more and more that special character, at once worldly
and clerical, which it shares with Cambridge alone
among the Universities of Europe.
The country, meanwhile, was filed with the Jesuits’
propaganda. There was Robert Parsons, for instance,
who had been compelled to resign his fellowship at
Ballioi and had since joined the Society of Jesus.
Disguised as a soldier and armed with a secret printing
press, he wandered about the country disseminating
Romanist literature. He finally brought off an extra¬
ordinary coup at Oxford. In a wood near Henley he
printed copies of a tract by Campian, a fellow Jesuit,
and on Commemoration Day (1580) every member
of the University found a copy of it in his seat at S.
Mary’s when he came there to listen to the University
sermon.
Proceedings against the Roman Catholics became
more severe as the struggle continued. Fellows were
ejected from colleges; priests were hung, drawn and
quartered. In the reign of James I. George Napier
of Corpus, a seminary priest convicted of high treason,
was so treated, parts of his quartered body being set
over the gates of the city and over the great gate of
Christ Church. Puritan Oxford, however, was not
distinguished for learning or discipline, in spite of
334
 ,
Elizabeth Bodley and Laud

Leicester’s fatherly exhortations. For the Chancellor

rated the University for its deficiency In sermonising
and lecturing, Its lack of religious instruction and
education of youth. And as to discipline, he finds
rault with the prevailing excess in apparel “as silk and
velvet, and cut doublets, hose, deep ruffs and such
like, like unto or rather exceeding both Inns of Court
men and Courtiers.” The streets, he complains, are
more full of scholars than of townsmen, and the ordinary
tables and ale-houses, grown to great number, are over¬
crowded day and night with scholars tippling, dicing,
carding, tabling and perhaps worse. Ministers and
deacons were presently solemnly forbidden to go Into
the^ field to play at football or to wear weapons to
maintain any quarrel under penalty of expulsion.
Plays acted by common stage players were forbidden,
and scholars were not allowed, under pain of imprison¬
ment, to sit on bulks or penniless bench or other open
places, or to gad up and down the streets. Leicester,
however, made a reservation in favour of the
“Tragedies and Comedies used to be set forth by
University men,” and he himself was entertained
(1585) at Christ Church and at Magdalen with
pleasant comedies.
The students, indeed, had shown themselves so
unruly that the affrays and riots of the Middle Ages
seemed to have been revived. The times were
unsettled. ^ Not only were the Roman Catholics and
the Calvinists at feud alike with each other and the
moderate party of the Reformed Church, whom the
Queen favoured, but the old quarrels between North
and South and the Welsh broke out again. And the
old disputes between the town and the University had
been reopened by a series of orders put forth by the
Privy Council in 1575 which were intended to settle
them for ever.

335
 Oxford and its Story

The lack of discipline resulting from these causes

is vividly brought before us by the attack made on
the retinue of Lord Norreys by some scholars of
Magdalen who wished to revenge themselves for the
punishment inflicted on one of their number for steal¬
ing deer in Shotover forest. They were repulsed and
44 beaten down as far as S. Mary’s5'; but when Lord
Norreys was leaving the town, the scholars
a Went up privately to the top of their tower and sent down
a shower of stones that they had picked up, upon him and
his retinew, wounding some and endangering others of their
lives. It is said that upon the foresight of this storm, divers
had got boards, others tables on their heads, to keep them
from it, and that if the Lord had not been in his coach or
chariot he would certainly have been killed.”

Some progress, one hopes, had been made in the

restoration of order when Elizabeth paid her final
visit “ to behold the change and amendment of learning
and manners that had been in her long absence made.55
She was received with the same ceremonies as before,
but this time, at the Divinity Disputations in S.
/ Mary's, she did not hesitate to send twice to a
prosy bishop and bid him “ cut it short/5 The fact
was that she was anxious to make a Latin speech
herself. But the bishop either could not or would
not sacrifice his beloved periods, and the Queen was
obliged to keep her speech for the Heads of Houses
next morning. In the middle of her oration she
noticed the old Lord Treasurer, Burleigh (Cecil),
standing on his lame feet for want of a stool.
“ Whereupon she called in all haste for a stool for him, nor
would she proceed in her speech till she saw him provided
with one. Then fell she to it, as if there had been no
Interruption. Upon which one that knew he might be
bold with her, told her, that she did it on purpose to show
that she could interrupt her speech, unlike the Bishop, and
not be put out, ”
336
Elizabeth, Bodley and Laud

In her speech she, “ the only great man in her

kingdom,” gave some very good advice to the Uni¬
versity, and took the opportunity of rebuking the
Romanising and the Puritan factions of the Church,
counselling moderation on all sides.
On her departure she again expressed her love for
the place. ££ Farewell, farewell, dear Oxford,” she
exclaimed as she viewed its towers and spires from the
heights of Shotover. ££ God bless thee and increase
thy sons in number, holiness and virtue! ”
Some outward and visible signs there certainly were
that the Queen's encouragement of learning and her
policy of selecting for her service ££ eminent and hope¬
ful students” had borne fruit. In 1571 Jesus College
the first of the Protestant colleges, had been founded
by Hugh ap Rees, a Welsh Oxonian, at a time when
the increase of grammar schools in Wales was likely
to produce an influx of Welsh students into the Uni¬
versity. The statutes were free from any local or
national restriction, but Welshmen always predomin¬
ated, and Jesus soon came to be regarded, in Wales,
as the National College. Elizabeth figured as a
nominal foundress; and the college, the front of
which in Turl Street dates from her time, the rest
being mainly seventeenth-century Gothic, possesses
three portraits of her, one the famous portrait by
Zuccaro.
A still more noble memorial of Elizabethan times
exists in Bodley, as the great library is called after
its founder, ££ whose single work clouds the proud
fame of the Egyptian Library and shames the tedious
growth o' the wealthy Vatican.”
Scarcely had the Duke of Gloucester’s-library been
completed than it began to be depleted of its treasures.
Three volumes only out of that splendid collection
now remain in the Bodleian; one volume has found
339
 Oxford and its Story

its way to Oriel College, another to Corpus Christi;

six others may be seen at the British Museum. The
rest had by this time been lost through the negligence
of one generation or the ignorant fanaticism of another.
For scholars borrowed books on insufficient pledges,
and preferred to keep the former and sacrifice the
latter. The Edwardine commissioners, as we have
seen, appointed to reform the University, visited the
libraries in the spirit of John Knox. All the books
were destroyed or sold. In Convocation (1556)
fis venerable men ” were chosen to sell the empty
shelves and stalls, and to make a timber-yard of Duke
Humphry’s treasure-house!
But the room remained ;. and it was destined, in its
very emptiness and desolation, to work upon the
imagination of one Thomas Bodley, an accomplished
scholar, linguist and diplomatist, who believed with
Bury that a “ library of wisdom is more precious than
all wealth.”
Born at Exeter, he accompanied his father when he
fled to Germany from the Papist persecutions. Whilst
other Oxonian Protestants were ueating mice at
Zurich,” he studied at Geneva, learning Hebrew under
Chevalerius, Greek under Constantinus, and Divinity
under Calvin. Queen Mary being dead and religion
changed, young Bodley was sent to Magdalen. There,
he tells us, he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts
(1563). In the following year he was admitted fellow
of Merton College, where he gave public Greek
lectures, without requiring any stipend. He was
elected proctor in 1569, and was subsequently Uni¬
versity orator and studied sundry Faculties. He next
determined to travel, to learn modern languages and- to
increase his experience in the managing of affairs. He
performed several important diplomatic missions with
great ability and success. On his return from the
340
Elizabeth, Bodley and Laud

Ha gue Burleigh marked him out for the Secretaryship,

but grew jealous of the support he. received" from
Essex. Bodley found himself unsuited for party
intrigue and, weary of statecraft and diplomacy,
decided to withdraw into private life.
But whilst refusing all subsequent offers of high
office, he felt that he was called upon “ to do the true
part of a profitable member in the State/3 All his life,
whether immersed in affairs of State at home or lying
abroad for the good of his country, he had never
forgotten that ruined library at Oxford. That there
once had been one, he has to remind the University,
was apparent by the room itself remaining.
C£ Whereupon, examining exactly for the rest of my life
what course I might take, and having sought, as I thought,
all the ways to the wood, to select the most proper, I con¬
cluded at the last to set up my staff at the Library door in
Oxford.”

He wrote accordingly, offering (1597-8) to restore

the place at his own charge. The offer was gratefully
accepted. Bodley had married a rich widow, and his
u purse-ability33 was such that he was able to bear the
expense of repairing the room, collecting books and
endowing the library: a work, says Casaubon, rather
for a king than a private man. Two years were spent
in fitting up the room and erecting its superb heraldic
roof. The ceiling is divided into square compartments,
on each of which are painted the arms of the Uni¬
versity, the open Bible with seven seals (1 Rev. v. 1)
between three ducal crowns, on the open pages of
which are the words, so truly fitting for a Christian
school: u Dominos Illuminatio mea.33 On bosses
which intervene between each compartment are painted
the arms of Bodley himself.
Bodley now began to solicit his great store of
honourable' friends to present books to the . library.
34i
 Oxford and its Story

His proposal was warmly supported by his countrymen

in Devonshire, where, as a contemporary records,
“ every man bethought himself now how by some
good book or other he might be written in the scroll
of benefactors.”
This scroll was the register which Bodley had
provided for the enrolment of the names of all bene¬
factors, with particulars of their gifts. It consists of
two large folios, ornamented with silver-gilt bosses on
their massy covers, which lie on a table of the great
room.
Bodley’s own donations were large, and he employed
a London bookseller to travel on the Continent and
collect books for the library. Besides numerous
private benefactors like Lord Buckhurst and the Earl
of Essex in the early years, the Stationers’ Company
agreed to give Bodley a copy of every book which
they published on condition that they might borrow
the books thus given if needed for reprinting. This
arrangement, in making which Bodley said he met
with many rubs and delays, was the precursor of the
obligation of the Copyright Acts, by which a copy of
every book published has to be presented to the
Bodleian and the British Museum. In 1603 Sir
Walter Raleigh made a donation of fifty pounds, and
he no doubt had some share in influencing the bestowal
of many of the books which had once belonged to the
library of Bishop Hieron. Ossorius, and were carried
off from Faro in Portugal, when that town was
captured by the English fleet under Essex. Raleigh,
an Oriel man, was a captain in the squadron. The
library was opened with full solemnity in 1603, and in
the following year King James granted letters patent
naming the library after its founder. That was an
honour most richly deserved, for Bodley was “the
first practically public library in Europe; the second,
342
 ,
Elizabeth Bodley and Laud

that of Angelo Rocca at Rome, being opened only in

this same year.”
To this library, two years later, James, the pedant,
who seemed determined to prove that a learned king,
too, could be a crowned ass, paid a visit. After
making an excessively feeble pun anent the bust of the
founder in the large room, which had been sent there
by the Earl of Dorset, Chancellor of the University,
he looked at the book shelves, and remarked that he
had often had proof from the University of the fruits
of talent and ability, but had never before seen the
garden where those fruits grew, and whence they were
gathered. He examined various MSS. and discoursed
wisely on them; took up the treatise by Gaguinus
entitled <c De puritate conceptionis Virginis Marias,”
and remarked that the author had so written about
purity, as if he wished that it should only be found on
the title of his book. The opportunity of thus dis¬
playing his learning was so grateful to the King, that
he was moved to an astonishing act of generosity. He
offered to present from all the libraries, of the royal
palaces whatever precious and rare books Sir T.
Bodley might choose to carry away. It does not
appear that the number or importance of books so
granted was in the event very great. Upon leaving
the room the King exclaimed, probably with sincerity,
that were he not King James he would be a University
man; and that were it his fate at any time to be a
captive, he would wish to be shut up, could he but
have the choice, in this place as his prison, to be
bound with its chains, and to consume his days among
its books as his fellows in captivity.
To this library came James’ ill-starred son, and
, here, it is said, he was tempted by Lord Falkland to
consult the 66 Sortes Virgilianas.” The passage which
first met his eye runs thus in Drvden’s translation:
343
 Oxford and its Story

41 Let him for succour sue from place to place

Torn from his subjects and his son’s embrace.
And when at iength'the cruel war shall cease
On hard conditions may he buy his peace.”
Lord Falkland then opened the Virgil in his turn,
hoping that his 44 lot” might remove the gloomy
impression of this bad omen. But the passage on
which he lit dealt with the untimely death of Pallas:
44 O curst essay of arms, disastrous doom,
Prelude of bloody deeds and fights to come.”
To this library Bacon sent his new book, 44 The
Advancement of Learning,” and here Milton, leaving
the allegro of Horton or Forest Hill for the penseroso
of Oxford's cloisters, made friends with the librarian,
and added his own poems to those treasures which
were soon to be defended by the 44 unshaken virtue ”
of his friend, Fairfax, and increased by the Chancellor,
Oliver Cromwell. This is not the place to catalogue
the list of those treasures, the wealth of European
literature and the MSS, of the nearer and the farther
East; the great collections which immortalise the
names of the donors, like Laud and Selden, Rawlinson,
Gough, Douce and Sutherland; the books which
belonged to Queen Elizabeth and Queen Margaret, to
Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Addison and Shelley ; the
curios and ohjets-d*art9 princely gifts, like the Arundel
and Selden marbles, coins and portraits, minor
curiosities, like stuffed alligators and dried negro boys,
or the lantern of Guy Fawkes, which have all found a
resting-place in
44 this goodly Magazine of witte,
This Storehouse of the choicest furniture
The world doth yeelde, heere in this exquisite
And most rare monument, that doth immure
The glorious reliques of the best of men.”1

1 Most of the pictures and works of art have been trans¬

ferred to the University Galleries, opposite the Randolph
344
 ,
Elizabeth Bodley and Laud

In such a place, with such a history, it would be

strange indeed if we did not feel something .of the
charm that breathes from the very stones of Bodley.
From the hot and noisy street you pass into the
peaceful Schools’ quadrangle, lying beneath the shade
of that curious tower, which, as it were an academic
conceit in stone, blends the five orders of classic
architecture with Gothic turret and pinnacle.
Architecturally the 16 Schools ” are plain and poor,
but you remember that Bodley conceived the idea of
rebuilding.them, and that it was the day after his body
had been put to rest in Merton Chapel (29th March
1613) that the first stone was laid. The Bodleian
forms the west side of this quadrangle. The east
wing of the great library, built (1610-1613) by
Bodley when already there was “ more need of a
library for the books than of books for the library,” is
panelled like the Divinity School, and stretches over
the entrance to it, the Proscholium or c< Pig Market,”
where candidates for degrees were obliged to wait.
The west wing extends over Laud’s late Gothic
Convocation House (1634-1640) ; the books have
usurped the third story of the Schools and the
Clarendon building; they are filling the mighty
camera beyond and overflowing into the Ashmolean.
But the entrance to the heart of this grand collection is
a modest portal. It opens on a long winding stair, so
long and so wearisome that you seem to have trodden
the very path by which true knowledge is gained ere
you pass through a simple green baize door and see
the panorama of all learning, lit by the glass of the
east window, outspread before your eyes.
So to approach it, and passing by the outer library
Hotel (Beaumont Street); the natural science collections,
including the great anthropological collection of General
Pitt Rivers, to the Science Museum in the Parks (i860).
345
 Oxford and its Story

through the yielding wicket, into Duke Humphrey’s

gallery, there to turn into one of the quiet recesses,
and calling for book after book, to summon spirits
from the deep of the past, to hold quiet converse with
them, while the breeze and sunlight flow gently in
across Wren’s huge buttresses from the green garden
of Exeter, till Bodley’s own solemn bell calls them
back to their resting-place; this, as has been well said,
is the very luxury, or rather the very poetry of study. '
“ What a place,” exclaimed Elia, “ What a place to
be in is an old library! It seems as though all the
souls of all the writers, that have bequeathed their
labours to these Bodleians, were reposing here, as in
some dormitory, or middle state. I do not want to
handle, to profane the leaves, their winding-sheets. I
could as soon dislodge a shade. I seem to inhale
learning, walking amid their foliage ; and the odour of
their old moth-scented coverings is fragrant as the
first bloom of those sciential apples which grew amid
the happy orchard.” 1
The growth of the Puritan feeling in Oxford is shown
by the formation of the first Baptist society under
Vavasour Powell of Jesus College, whom John Bunyan
once accompanied to this city. The growth of the
Puritan tendency to preach is also indicated by the
strange case of Richard Haydock, a physician of New
College, who obtained some notoriety about this time
by preaching at night in his bed. Sermons, he said,
came to him by revelation in his sleep, and he would
take a text in his slumbers and preach on it, “and
though his auditory were willing to silence him by
pulling, haling and pinching, yet would he pertinaciously

1 Bodley, who died in 1613, was buried in Merton Chapel,

where a monument by Nicholas Stone was erected. Besides
the marble bust, there is a noble full-length portrait of him
in the Library.
346
 }
Elizabeth Bodley and Laud

persist to the end and sleep still.” He was not a

married fellow evidently. King James sent for him,
and he preached to the monarch in his sleep, but James
made him confess that he was a fraud, who had adopted
this curious means of advertising himself.
The King and Queen and Prince Henry visited
Oxford in 1605, and were welcomed very much as
Elizabeth had been. The King, we are told, showed
himself to be of an admirable wit and judgment. The
scholars welcomed him by clapping their hands and
humming, which, it was explained to him, signified
applause.
The presence of King James5 court, however, was
responsible, if we may believe Wood, for a serious
change in manners. For he traces the rise of that
a damnable sin of drunkenness55 to this time.

“For whereas in the days of Elizabeth it was little or

nothing practiced, sack being then taken rather for a cordial
than a usual liquor, sold also for that purpose in apothecaries’
shops, and a heinous crime it was to be overtaken with drink,
or smoke tobacco, it now became In a manner common, and
a laudable fashion.”

The vice in fact grew so prevalent in Oxford, as in

the rest of England, that a statute was passed for¬
bidding members of the University to visit any tavern
and there “ sit idly, drink, or use any unlawful play.”
The use of the Latin tongue, attendance at lectures
and the wearing of academical dress was also insisted
on by the new Chancellor, Archbishop Bancroft, who
added an injunction that long hair was not to be worn:
long hair in those days being accounted a sign not of
a poet but of a swaggerer and ruffian. A few years
later it was provided, as a measure directed against the
still increasing vice of drunkenness, that no scholar
should lodge without his college or hall, and that no
citizen should entertain a scholar in his house.
347
 Oxford and its Story

The Gunpowder Plot led to more stringent measures

being taken to root out the Roman Catholics from the
University. It is possibly to the deep impression
made by that event that the foundation of Wad ham
College is due. The founder of that college (1609),
Nicholas Wadham, is said to have intended to endow
a Roman Catholic college at Venice, but to have
decided to endow a number of non-clerical and termin¬
able fellowships at Oxford instead. His widow,
Dorothy, carried out his plans, and, after Gloucester
Hall had refused the benefaction, purchased the site of
the suppressed settlement of Augustinian Friars and
built the front quadrangle with hall and chapel as,
externally, we have them to-day. For the interior of
the chapel was dealt with by the Gothic revivalists
(1834). The Hall and Quadrangle, in the Elizabethan
style, closely resemble the Divinity Schools. Rut the
east window of the chapel, and the two lofty arches,
which divide it from the ante-chapel, are extraordinarily
line Perpendicular, and distinctly reminiscent of New
College. The rest of the ante-chapel blends with the
style of the Hall, so that it forms a link between the
domestic architecture of the quadrangle and the eccle¬
siastical architecture of the chapel. The Foundress
then adopted the contemporary style of the Elizabethan
manor for her domestic buildings, but chose Gothic as
the style appropriate for a Chapel and New College as
the perfect pattern of it. Thus we may explain the use
of Gothic at Oxford in the XVIIth century, as at
Lincoln, Oriel, University, and Brasenose, so much later
than elsewhere.
James had been inclined at first to favour the Puritans,
but when he finally cast in his lot with the High Church
party, the University, which he, like Elizabeth, had
done his best to conciliate as the educational centre of
the national clergy, supported him loyally. In the
year of his accession he had granted letters patent to
both Universities, empowering them each to choose
34S
 ,
Elizabeth Bodley and Laud

two grave and learned men, professing the civil law, to

serve as burgesses in the House of Parliament; and
the Universities were again indebted to him when they
were called upon to furnish scholars for the great task
of preparing the Authorised Version of the Bible.
Thus Oxford had its share in giving the Book to
the people. From this time forward every English¬
man was more than ever a theologian, and at the
' Universities, as at Westminster, theological controversy
absorbed all energies. L iterature, says Grotius (1613),
has little reward. “ Theologians rule, lawyers find
profit, Casaubon alone has a fair success, but he him¬
self thinks it uncertain, and not even he would have
had any place as a literary man—he had to turn
theologian.”
Oxford, in return, declared itself on the side of
passive obedience. The Church embraced the doctrine
of the Divine Right of Kings ; the University burned
the books of Parasus in S. Mary’s Churchyard, and
solemnly decreed that it was not lawful for the subject
to resist his sovereign by force of arms, or to make
war against him, either offensive or defensive (1622).
Thus it is evident that the influence of Calvin had died
away at Oxford, and that the University had adopted,
by the end of James’ reign, the reactionary creed of
Laud, and was ready to support the Stuart claim to
absolutism. The Divine Right of Kings and the
Divine Right of Bishops, as it was indicated by James’
own phrase, “ No Bishop, no King,” was to be for
more than a generation the official creed of Oxford
schooled oy Laud. For meanwhile one William
Laud, B.D. of S. John’s College, had filled the office
of proctor and had been censured by the Vice-Chan¬
cellor for letting fall in a sermon at S. Mary’s divers
passages savouring of Popery. But he survived the
reproof. President of S. John’s from 1611-1621, he
349
 Oxford and its Story

set himself to reform the discipline of the University

and to undo the work of Leicester.
In 1630 he was elected Chancellor in opposition to
the younger brother of the late Chancellor, Lord
Pembroke, who was supported by the Calvinists.
Preaching on the points in dispute between Calvin and
Arminius was at once forbidden. This, with Laud
as Chancellor, meant that the Puritans, who regarded
Laud’s “ High Church ” views as little better than
Popery in disguise and as exposing the country to a
danger which was too near and too deadly to be trifled
with, were muzzled or driven from the country; but
their opponents, if they preached against the practices
of Geneva, met only with the mildest kind of rebuke.
Laud’s experience of the University had convinced
him of the necessity of revising and codifying the
statutes <fi which had long lain in a confused heap.’5
As Chancellor he at once set about that difficult task.
The Caroline or Laudian Statutes were based on the
old statutes and customs as collected, transcribed and
drawn up by the antiquarian, Brian Twyne, fellow of
C.C.C. Laud rewarded him with the office of Custos
Archivorum. It was from the vast and scholarly
collections of Brian Twyne that Wood quarried freely,
and, it must be said, without due acknowledgment.
But Wood succeeded in a task beyond Twyne’s
powers. He achieved immortality by clothing the dry
bones of antiquarian fact or fancy in prose at times so
racy and at times so musical.
Already (1629) Laud had been responsible for the
introduction of the cycle, which put an end to the riots
that had hitherto attended the election of proctors.
Free election by the academical democracy had re¬
sulted in frequent abuses. The cycle invented by
Peter Turner of Merton assigned to each college in
turn, and in proportion to its size and dignity, the
350
Elizabeth, Bodley and Laud

right of nominating proctors. The system, modified

in 1856 and 1887, still obtains. His care for dis¬
cipline led the Chancellor to make some much-needed
reforms in the direction of diminishing the number of
ale-houses and enforcing a proper system of licensing
in the town. By his own proclamation he named a
toll-gatherer for the market; he obtained an order
from Council for the destruction of cottages which the
townsmen had erected round about the wall and ditch :
and, in spite of a protest from the citizens, the Caroline
Charter was obtained, confirming the rights of the
University over the town.
When the labours of Twyne were finished and the
Delegacy had at last succeeded in codifying the laws
and customs, the code was placed in the hands of
Laud. He corrected the draft, and in 1636 the
Corpus Statutorum was promulgated, confirmed by the
King and gratefully accepted by the University. The
new code was destined to govern it for two hundred
years and more. Though to a great extent a digest
of statutes already in force, the Laudian Statutes com¬
pleted and stereotyped the changes which had long
been taking place. The old order changes; the
academic commonwealth becomes an oligarchy; the
University is henceforth to be governed by a
a Hebdomadal Board,” and all power is definitely con¬
centrated in the hands of the colleges and the Heads
of Houses.
The old scholastic disputations were superseded by
a system of public examinations; the studies required
for a degree were organised and defined; the tutorial
system was emphasised by the regulation which required
the student to enter under a tutor resident in the same
college. The code was received with effusive gratitude.
The popularity of Laud was not merely due to the
vigour with which he had been enforcing his views of
351
 Oxford and its Story

orthodoxy, and compelling all, whether Roman

Catholics or Puritans, to recant if ever in their sermons
they controverted the Arminian doctrines, which the
Stuarts had adopted as the fundamental principles of
their policy in Church and State. For apart from his
narrow Church policy Laud was, in University matters,
both an earnest reformer and a great benefactor. He
presented the library with a magnificent collection of
Oriental MSS.; he founded and endowed the Pro¬
fessorship of Arabic, and, most valuable of all, he
obtained for the University the right of printing
Bibles, which is one of the most valuable endowments
of that insufficiently endowed institution to-day. Be¬
sides his buildings at S. John’s College, the building
of the Convocation House, adjoining the Divinity
School (1634-1638), with the extension of the
Bodleian above it, mark the chancellorship of Laud,
and as the seat of Oxford’s government fitly recall the
age of its great lawgiver. The Botanic Gardens were
also founded at this period, and the porch of S. Mary’s
was erected in 1637 by the Archbishop’s chaplain,
Dr Owen. The beautiful twisted columns of this, the
south-west porch, are surmounted by a fine statue of
the Virgin, crowned, with the Child in her arms.
This statue gave such offence to the Puritans, that it
actually figured in the articles of impeachment against
the Archbishop.
Under Laud the University had quite recovered its
popularity. There were no less than four thousand
students; many men of learning and piety were
numbered among its alumni; discipline was to a great
extent established. But the coming struggle soon
began to upset the new regime. For the Civil War
was inevitably approaching. The Chancellorship of
Laud was crowned by a visit from the King and
Queen in 1636. But though the University and town
352
Elizabeth , Bodley and Laud
went out,, as was their custom, towards Woodstock to
meet their royal visitors, and though speeches and
ceremonies were performed as usual. Wood cotes that
in the streets 44 neither scholars nor citizens made any
expressions of joy or uttered as the manner is, Vivat
Rex !” The visit lasted three days. The Elector
Palatine and Prince Rupert received honorary M.A.
degrees. Charles paid special attention to S/ John’s
College, out of compliment to Laud, who entertained -
the royal party there, and drew attention to the library
he ^ had enlarged and the quadrangle he had built,
mainly out of the stones obtained from the old Carmelite
Convent in Beaumont. Palace—once the Palace of
Kings. From that time forward S. John’s was the
most royalist of colleges. One of its most treasured
possessions was the portrait of the Royal Martyr,
which has the whole of the book of Psalms written
in the lines of the face and the hair of the head.”
Of this picture, as of other things, the story is told
that Charles II. begged it of the college, and promised
in return to grant them any request they might make.
They gave the picture, and requested His Majesty to
give them—the picture back again. Comedies were
performed at S. John’s and Christ Church. /The play
at S. John’s, 44 The Hospital of Lovers ” was 44 merry
and without offence,” but that at Christ Church, by
William Strode, the public orator, called the 44 Floating
Island,” had more of the moralist than poet in it.
The scenery was realistic, but Lord Carnarvon de¬
clared the piece to be the worst he ever saw, except
one at Cambridge. Another play at Christ Church,
(C The Royal Slave,” by William Cartwright, was
more successful. The scenery of the interludes was
arranged by Inigo Jones. The Queen was so pleased
with this piece, that she borrowed the Persian dresses
and the scenery of the piece and had it repeated at
z '■ 353
 Oxford and its Story

Hampton Court, but “ by all men's confession, the

players came short of the University actors."
Charles, in this matter at least, was more fortunate
than his father. For James had suffered much
boredom from a play called “ Technogamia, or the
Marriage of the Arts," in which “there was no point
and no sense but non-sense." He was with difficulty
induced to stay to the end.

« At Christ Church 4 Marriage,’ done before the King.

Lest that those mates should want an offering.,
The King himself did offer—what, I pray ?
He offered twice or thrice to go away.”
 CHAPTER IX

The Royalist Capital

Parliament at Oxford—Puritans in a minority—The Colleges

pawn their plate for the King—A monstrous regiment
of scholars—The Parliamentarians occupy and evacuate
Oxford—It becomes the Court and Camp of the King—
Chalgrove Field—Charles eludes Essex—Oliver Crom¬
well—Fairfax lays siege to Oxford—Lord Clarendon’s
History—The Seldonian Theatre and Clarendon Press
—Anthony Wood—The Parliamentary Visitors— Crom¬
well, Chancellor—The Restoration—Science becomes
fashionable—The Royal Society—Christopher Wren—
Charles II. and his Court at Oxford—The Wicked
Parliament—S. Edmund’s Hall—Restoration manners—
James II. tries to make Oxford a Roman Catholic
Seminary—Expulsion of the Fellows of Magdalen
College—Jus situm caique.

/"^HARLES I. had matriculated at Oxford in

^ 1616 his brother Henry had been a student at
Magdalen. On his accession to the throne, an out¬
break of plague, in London led to the meeting of
Parliament at Oxford. For the accommodation of
members, the colleges and halls “ were ordered to be
freed from the Fellows, Masters of Arts and students.55
Christ Church was prepared for the reception of the
Privy Council by the same process. The Houses sat
in the Divinity Schools. And some said that they
caught the theological infection of the place, and that
ever after that the Commons thought that the
determining of all points and controversies in Divinity
355
 Oxford and its Story

belonged to them. Parliament returned the com¬

pliment by infecting Oxford with the plague, which
they had fled from London to avoid. _ .
The coming struggle was foreshadowed by conflicts
between town and gown. Once more the alarm bells
of S, Mary’s and S. Martin’s rang out and summoned
the opposing parties to the fray; once more it was
true that when Oxford drew knife England would
soon be at strife. Nothing, Laud had noted, could
be transacted in the State, without its being im¬
mediately winnowed in the parliament of scholars.
Windows were broken, proctors jostled; books were
burnt by order of Parliament; young Puritans from
New Inn Hall or Lincoln were forced to eat their
words.
Prynne’s ears had been cut off, but the Puritans
multiplied their conventicles in Oxford. But it was
not till after Laud’s impeachment, and his short,
pathetic resignation of his chancellorship, dated from
the Tower, 1641, that they grew so bold as to preach
and discourse as they listed. Then the Puritan feeling
grew rapidly not only among the townsmen but also
in the colleges. A maypole set up in Holywell in
derision of a certain Puritan musician was pulled down
by the scholars of New Inn and Magdalen Hall.
The report that the Mitre Inn was a meeting-place for
recusants, gave occasion for the enemies of Laud to
allege in the House of Commons that through his
influence the University was infected with Popery.
A certificate was accordingly drawn up by the Heads
of Houses to the effect that “ they knew not any one
member of this University guilty of or addicted to
Popery.” Parliament, however, requisitioned the
records of the University in order to obtain evidence
against Laud. Some of his regulations, such as the
encouraging of the use of copes and of Latin prayers
356
The Royalist 'Capital

In Lent, were Indeed used to support the charge of

high treason against him.
The Puritans, however, remained in the minority at
Oxford. The part which she would take in the
Civil War was never
doubtful. Laud had
filled the chief posts
of the University
with carefully chosen
High Churchmen of
great ability. Ox¬
ford was committed
to the doctrines of
passive obedience, and
fast rooted in the
tenets of the Angli¬
can Church. The
University pressed
upon Parliament the
duty of maintaining
Episcopacy and the
Cathedrals. The
contemptuous treat¬
ment their arguments
met with was con¬
trasted with the reply
of Charles, that u he
would rather feed on bread and water than mingle any
part of God’s patrimony with his own revenues.”
Learning and studies, he maintained, must needs perish
if the honours and rewards of learning were destroyed ;
nor would the monarchy itself stand long if the
hierarchy perished. “ No Bishop, no King !
Parliament, it was felt, had shown unfriendly feeling
towards the University. The town, headed by
Alderman John Nixon, had most unmistakably shown
357
 Oxford and its Story

that its sympathies were with the Parliament. It is

not surprising therefore to find that in the coming
struggle the University is always unreservedly on the
side of the King. Royalist colleges like New College
and Christ Church took the lead, and Puritan
establishments like Lincoln and Magdalen followed
unprotestingly.
When (1642) a letter from the King at York,
asking for contributions to his necessary defence, was
laid before Convocation, it was unanimously resolved
that whatever money the University was possessed of,
should be lent to the King. The colleges and
private persons were equally loyal. University
College set an example which was freely followed.
The bulk of the college plate was pawned, and the
sum advanced on it was immediately dispatched to the
King.
The Parliament retorted in vain with prohibitory
letters, and demanded the surrender of the chief
champions of the King—Prideaux, Rector of Exeter;
Fell, Dean of Christ Church ; Frewen, President of
Magdalen ; and Potter, Provost of Queen’s.
Since there was a strong report that divers troops of
soldiers were constantly passing hard by the city on
their march to secure Banbury and Warwick for. the
Parliament, the University began to put itself in a
posture of defence. Masters and scholars rallied
together on 18th August to drill in Christ Church
Quadrangle, and marched from the Schools up the
High Street to the number of three hundred and
thirty or more, making ready to defend the city.

li
On the Saturday following they met at the Schools
again in the forenoon. Thence they marched through
Holywell and so through the Manor Yard by the Church
where by their commanders they were divided into four
squadrons of which two were musketeers, the third pikes,

358
The Royalist Capital

the fourth halberds. After they had been reasonably

instructed in the words of command, and in their postures,
they were put into battle array, and skirmished together in
a very decent manner. They continued there till about two
of the clock in the afternoon, and then they returned into
the city by S. Giles’ Church, and going through the North
Gate, went through the market-place at Quatervois, and so
down the High Street, that so both the city and country
might take notice thereof, it being then full market, to the
Schools, from which place they were soon after dismissed
and sent to their respective Colleges to their devotions.”

Among the array are mentioned some divines and

a Doctor of Civil Law from New College, who
served with a pike. As for drums and colours, those
belonging to the Cooks’ Corporation served their turn
for the'present. Meantime the highway “ at the
hither end of East Bridge, just at the corner of the
Chaplain’s Quadrangle of Magdalen College,” was
blocked up with long timber logs to keep out horse¬
men, and a timber gate was also erected there and
chained at night. Some loads of stones were carried
up to the top of Magdalen Tower, to be flung down
on the enemy at their entrance. Two posts were set
up at Smith Gate, with a chain to run through them to
bar the way; a crooked trench in the form of a bow
was made across the highway at the end of S. John’s
College walks; and measures were taken to provide
the scholars with barbed arrows. A strict watch was
kept at nights.
Charles raised his standard at Nottingham, and on
28th August Sir John Byron rode in at the head of
one or two hundred troopers to secure Oxford for the
King. The scholars u closed with them and were
joyful for their coming. Yet some Puritanical towns¬
men out of guilt fled to Abingdon, fearing they should
be ill-used and imprisoned.”
On 1st September twenty-seven senior members of
the University, with the Vice-Chancellor, Prideaux,
359
 Oxford and its Story

and the proctors, formed themselves into what the

scholars nicknamed a Council of War, to arrange with
Byron for the safety of the University.. Drilling went
on steadily in the quadrangles of Christ Church and
Corpus Christi, of New College and Magdalen.
Attempts were also made to take up Osney Bridge
and to substitute a drawbridge. But the townsmen
and their train-bands, which had assembled in Broken
Hayes, objected, and the scholars and troopers were
forced to desist.
But a strong Parliamentary force lay at Aylesbury.
It was evident that, with the best will in the world,
a few hundred troopers and enthusiastic scholars could
not hold the city, which lay at present so far from the
King’s quarters. The townsmen were by no means
eager Royalists. They made fair pretences of joining
with the University and King’s troops, but they in¬
formed Parliament that all they had done for the
King was at the instigation of the University.. The
University accordingly sent to Aylesbury to inform
the threatening Parliamentarians there that they would
lay down their arms and dismiss the troopers. Dr
Pink, however, Warden of New College and Deputy
Vice-Chancellor, who had gone to make his peace at
Aylesbury, was seized and committed to prison in the
gate-house at Westminster. On ioth September
Byron rode away. About a hundred volunteers from
the University accompanied him, and most of them
made their way to Worcester before the siege.
Two days later Colonel Arthur Goodwin rode into
the city with a troop of Parliamentarians. Goodwin
was lodged at Merton, and his troopers picketed their
horses in Christ Church meadows. Phe college gates
were kept open, and the soldiers wandered in to see
the cathedral and painted windows, a and much ad¬
mired at the idolatry of them.” Lord Say, the
360
The Royalist Capital

Parliamentarian Lord Lieutenant of Oxford, a New

College man, arrived on 14th September, and immedi¬
ately ordered that the works and trenches of the
scholars should be demolished. The colleges were
searched for arms and plate. The Christ Church
plate was hidden by the staunch Dr Fell. It was
found hidden in the walls behind the wainscot and
in the cellar. The plate of University College was
found in the house of Mr Thomas Smith. This Say
adjudged to be lawful prize, but he told the fellows
that as long as they kept their plate in places fit for
plate, the treasury or buttery, it should remain un¬
touched.
The city was mustered at Broken Hayes, and the
arms of the train-bands were shown to Lord Say, who
shortly afterwards left the place with his men, for both
sides were now massing their forces. Little damage
had been done, but u his Lordship caused divers
Popish books and pictures, as he called them, which
he had taken out of churches, and especially the
houses of Papists here in Oxford and in the country,
to be burned in the street, against the Star Inn,”
where he had lodged. And as they were leaving the
town, one of the London troopers, when passing S.
Mary’s Church, discharged a brace of bullets at the
‘‘very scandalous image” of Our Lady over the
porch, striking off her head and the head of the Child,
which she held in her right arm. Another fired at
the image of Our Saviour over All Souls’ gate, and
would have defaced all the work there, if he had not
been remonstrated with by the citizens. He retorted
that they had not been so well entertained at Oxford
as they expected. ,
Say made a disastrous miscalculation in thus evacu¬
ating Oxford. For within a few weeks it was destined
to become and to remain the headquarters of the King.
361
 Oxford and its Story

Many Royalists who had been wounded at Edge-

hill were brought into Oxford. On 29th October the
King, with the Duke of York, Prince Charles and
Rupert, rode in with the army at the North Gate.
The colours taken from the enemy were carried in
triumph ; the King was received by the mayor with
a present of money at Pennilesse Bench, and the heavy
ordnance, twenty-seven pieces in all, were driven
mto Magdalen College Grove. The princes and
many of the court took their degrees. Charles stayed
but a short while, for, after having recruited his army
and having been presented by the colleges with all the
money they had in their treasuries, he presently left
the city to make an advance on London. For Reading
had surrendered to the Royalists, and Rupert s daring
capture of Brentford now threatened the capital. But
the junction of the train-bands of London with the
army of Essex forced Charles to fall back on his old
quarters at Oxford. There the fortification of the
town was giving him a firm hold on the Midland
counties.
A plan of fortifications had been prepared by one
Rallingson, a B.A. of Queen’s College. A series of
earthworks, with sharp angles flanking each other, was
to be thrown up outside the town. On 5th December
1642 the University bellman had gone about the city
warning all privileged persons that were householders
to send some of their families next day to dig at the
works. The citizens, however, who were set to work
north of S. Giles’, were not enthusiastic.' The King
found only twelve of them working where there should
have been one hundred and twenty-two, “ of which
neglect his majesty took notice and told them in the
field.”
The trench and rampart thus begun by the privileged
men and workmen paid by the colleges, ran from the
362
The Royalist Capital

Cherwell at Holywell Mill, passing by Wadham and

S. John’s gardens and S. Giles’ Church up to the
branch of the Thames at Walton Bridge. Next,
similar earthworks were made to cover S. Clement’s,
the east suburb. As time was pressing, and the city
and county were not eager workers, the King called
upon the University to help in February. The
members of the various colleges were set to work on
the line which ran from Folly Bridge across Christ
Church meadow in front of Merton. The bastion
traceable in Merton Gardens dates from this time.
In the following June every person resident in a college
or hall between sixteen and sixty was required to give
a day’s work a week with pick and spade, or to pay
for a substitute, if unable or unwilling to anticipate the
labours of Mr Ruskin. Finally (January 1644), the
colleges were commanded to raise the sum of forty
pounds a week for twenty weeks to complete the
works.
Before leaving for Reading, the King had reviewed
the regiment of scholars in Christ Church meadows.
They were armed with helmets and back and breast
pieces. The regiment, which consisted at first of
four companies only, soon grew, as enthusiasm waxed,
to eight or nine®companies. The gown was exchanged
for the military coat, and the square cap for the helmet.
Meanwhile arms and provisions had been accumulated,
and ammunition, 64 the want wherof all men looked
upon with great horror,” had been thrown into the
town.
The New College cloister and tower were converted
into a magazine for muskets, bullets and gunpowder;
corn was stored in the Law and Logic School, and
victuals in the Guildhall. Clothes for the army were
stowed in the Music and Astronomy Schools. The
mill at Osney was used as a powder factory.
36 3
 Oxford and its Story

The King now established his court at Christ

Church. Never perhaps has there existed so curious
a spectacle as Oxford presented in these days. A
city unique in itself, so the author of “ John Inglesant ”
has described it, became the residence of a Court under
unique conditions, and of an innumerable throng of
people of every rank, disposition and taste, under cir¬
cumstances the most extraordinary and romantic.
The ancient colleges and halls were thronged with
ladies and gentlemen of the court, some of whom found
themselves like fishes out of water (as one of them
expressed it), when they were obliged to be content
with u a very bad bed in a garret of a baker’s house
in an obscure street, and one dish of meat a day, and
that not the best ordered, no money and no clothes.”
Soldiers were quartered in the college gates and the
kitchens. Yet, amidst all this confusion, there was
maintained both something of a courtly pomp and
something of a learned and religious society. The
King dined and supped in public, and walked in state
in Christ Church meadow and Mifton Gardens and
the Grove of Trinity, which the wits called Daphne.
A parliament sat from day to day. For (1644) the
members of both Houses who had withdrawn from
Westminster were summoned to meet at Oxford.
The King received them very graciously in Christ
Church Hall, made them a speech, and asked them to
consult together in the Divinity Schools and to advise
him for the good of the Kingdom. About three
hundred commons and sixty peers thus sat at Oxford,
and a hundred commons and ten or a dozen peers at
Westminster, so that the country enjoyed the felicity
of two parliaments at once, each denying the right
of the other to exist. The branch at Westminster
rejected overtures of peace from the branch at Oxford.
The latter devoted themselves to finding funds for the
364
 The Royalist Capital

war. Contributions were called for, and the members

themselves headed the list, A mint was established
at New Inn Hall, and all plate that was brought in
was coined.1 At Westminster, on the other hand,
the system of an excise upon beer, wine and spirits
was invented.
And whilst Parliament sat in the Divinity Schools,
service was sung daily in all the chapels; books both
of learning and poetry were printed in the city, and
the distinctions which the colleges had to offer were
conferred with pomp on the royal followers, as almost
the only rewards the King had to bestow. Men of
every opinion flocked to Oxford, and many foreigners
came to ^ visit the King. Christmas interludes were
enacted in hall, and Shakespeare’s plays performed;
the groves and walks of the colleges, and especially
Christ Church meadow and the grove at Trinity, were
the resort of a brilliant throng of gay courtiers and
gayer ladies; the woods, were vocal with song and
music; love and gallantry sported themselves along
the pleasant river banks.
u Many times,” Aubrey of Trinity tells us,, “my
lady Isabella Thynne would make her entry into our
grove with a lute or theorbo played before her. I
have heard her play on it in the grove myself; for
which Mr Edmund 'Waller hath in his poems for ever
made her famous.” But old Dr Kettell of Trinity
had no feeling for this sort of thing. He lectured
Lady Isabella and her friend Mrs Fanshawe in no

1 “The crown piece struck at Oxford in 1642 has on the

reverse, relig. prot. leg. ang. or ang. liber, par. in’ con¬
formity with Charles’ declaration that he would 4 preserve
the Protestant religion, the known laws of the land, and
the just privileges and freedom of Parliament.’ But the coin
peculiarly called the Oxford crown, beautifully executed by
Rawlins in 1644, has underneath the King’s horse a view of
Oxford ” (Boase).
365
 Oxford and its Story

mincing terms when they attended chapel one morning

“half dressed, like angels.57 46 Madam,55 he cried by
way of peroration, “ get you gone for a very woman ! 5J
The poets and wits vied with each other in classic
conceits and parodies, wherein the events of the day
and every individual incident were portrayed and
satirised. Wit, learning and religion joined hand in
hand, as in some grotesque and brilliant masque. The
most admired poets and players and the most profound
mathematicians became “ Romancists and monks,
and exhausted all their wit and poetry and learning in
farthering their divine mission, and finally, as the last
scenes of this strange drama came on, fell fighting on
some hardly-contested grassy slope, and were buried
on the spot, or in the next village churchyard, in the
dress in which they played Philaster, or the court garb
in which they wooed their mistress, or the doctor's
gown in which they preached before the King, or read
Greek in the schools.
This gaiety was much increased when the Queen
joined Charles on 14th July 1643. Two thousand
foot, one thousand horse, six pieces of cannon and two
mortars, which formed her escort, proved a welcome
addition to the cause. The Queen, who had entered
the city in great state and had been loyally welcomed,
held her court at Merton, where, ever since, the room
over the archway into the Fellows5 Quadrangle has
. been known as the Queen's Chamber. From it a
passage was constructed through Merton Hall and its
vestibule, crossing the archway over Patey's Quadrangle,
and descending to the sacristy, thence by a door into
the chapel, and so to the grove and the gardens of
Corpus. Hence a door, still traceable, was opened in
the garden wall, and the private way was continued
till it reached the royal apartments in Christ Church.
Well might the classic wits compare the scene to
366
The Royalist Capital

the marriage of Jupiter and Juno of old, for here

indeed wisdom and folly, vice and piety, learning and
gaiety, terrible earnest even unto death and light
frivolity jostled each other in the stately precincts of
Parnassus and Olympus.
Meantime, the war was going more and more in
favour of the King. Parliament redoubled its en¬
deavours. Essex, whose army had been freshly
equipped, was ordered to advance upon Oxford. But
he did not care to risk his raw forces, and contented
himself with recapturing Reading. The King was
ready to “ give him battle about Oxford if he
advanced; and in the meantime, encamped his foot
upon the downs, about a mile from Abingdon, which
was the head-quarters for his horse/5 At West¬
minster it was believed that Charles could not with¬
stand a resolute attack on Oxford., Disease, however,
thinned the ranks of Essex, and his inaction gave the
Queen an opportunity of dispatching to Oxford a
much-needed convoy of arms and ammunition.
Charles now felt that he could resist any attack, and
even afford to send part of his small force from Oxford
to aid the rising in the west. At last, to quiet his
supporters in London, Essex advanced towards Thame.
His presence there, and the information given him by
Colonel Hurry, a Scottish deserter, provided Rupert
with an opportunity for making one of those daring
raids which have immortalised the name of that dashing
cavalry leader. Essex had made a futile endeavour to
capture Islip. The same afternoon, with a force of
about a thousand men, Rupert sallied out, hoping to
cut off a convoy which was bringing ^21,000 from
London to Essex’s army. An hour after midnight
the tramp of his band was heard by the sentinels at
Tetsworth ; two hours later, as the sky was whitening
before the dawn, he surprised a party of the , enemy .at
3^7
 Oxford and its Story

Postcombe. He then proceeded to Chinnor, within

two miles of Thame, and again successfully surprised
a force of the enemy. It was now time to look out
for the convoy. The alarm, however, had been given.
The drivers were warned by a countryman, and they
turned the heads of their team into the woods, which
clothed the sides of the Chiltern Hills. Rupert could
not venture to follow. Laden with prisoners and
booty the Royalists were returning to Oxford, when,
about eight o’clock in the morning, they found them¬
selves cut off by the cavalry who had been dispatched
by Essex. Rupert had just passed Chalgrove Field
and was entering the lane which led to Chiselhampton
Bridge, where a regiment of foot had been ordered to
come out to support his return, when the enemy’s horse
was found to be overtaking him. He immediately
ordered the guard with the prisoners to make their
way to the bridge, whilst he with his tired troopers
drew up on Chalgrove Field. The Parliamentarians
hoped to hold him till succour arrived from head¬
quarters. It was a dangerous game to play with
Rupert. u This insolence,” he cried, “is not to be
borne! ” He was the first to leap the hedge behind
which the enemy was drawn up. The Roundheads
fought that day as they had never fought before.
They were put to flight at last, but not before Hampden
himself, who had slept that night at Wallington and
had ridden out as a volunteer at the sound of the
alarm, had been seen “ to ride off the field before the
action was done, which he never used to do, with his
head hanging down, and resting his hands upon the
neck of his horse.” He was indeed mortally wounded,
and his death seemed an omen of the ruin of the cause
he loved. Disaster followed disaster. Essex fell back
towards London; Bristol was surrendered into Rupert’s
hands, and the flight- of six of the few peers who
The Royalist Capital

remained at Westminster to the camp at Oxford

proved the general despair of the Parliament’s
success.
But the discontent and jealousy, which were always
rife among the soldiers and courtiers in Charles’ camp,
broke out afresh when the King returned to Oxford
after his ^ failure to ■ take Gloucester. From this
■moment, indeed, the firmness of Parliament and the
factiousness and foolishness of the King’s party began
slowly to reverse the fortunes of the war. Parliament
obtained the assistance of Scotland, and Charles
negotiated with the Irish Catholics. The alliance was
fatal to his cause. Many of Charles’ supporters left
him; the six peers fled back to Westminster. The
covenant was concluded. A Scotch army crossed the
border and co-operated with Fairfax and Leven in
the north; Essex watched the King at Oxford, and
was presently supported by Waller, who had been
holding Prince Maurice in check in the west. The
Queen, who was enceinte, and afraid of being besieged,
now insisted on leaving Oxford (April 1644). She
made her way safely to Exeter.
The Royalists abandoned Reading and fell back on
Oxford, where measures were being taken for defence.
Regiments were enlisted ; trees were felled in Magdalen
walks, and means were provided for flooding the
meadows beyond. Batteries were erected at suitable
points. One of these, at the north-east comer of the
walks, was called Dover Pier (Dover’s Peer?), pro¬
bably after the Earl of Dover, who commanded the
new University Regiment. This regiment mustered
for the first time on 14th May 1644 in Magdalen
College Grove, and, along with the City Regiment,
was reviewed on Bullingdon Green a few days later.
The rise in the ground at the end of Addison’s Walk,
which is still noticeable, is probably due to.the high
2 ^ 369
 Oxford, and its Story

and strong causeway which we know Jed from the

walks to the battery in the river.
The Parliamentarians advanced, Abingdon was
evacuated by the Royalist army under Wilmot, and
occupied by Essex. Charles was obliged to withdraw
all his forces to the north of Oxford. The King’s
position was now so serious, that it was confidently
reported in London that Oxford was taken and the
King a prisoner. Another rumour ran that the King
had decided to come to London, or what Parliament
chiefly feared, to surrender himself to Essex. Pre¬
sently, indeed, his own supporters advised this course,
but His Majesty indignantly rejected the suggestion,
saying that possibly he might be found in the hands of
Essex, but he would be dead first.
As no help could be looked for from north or west,
he determined to stay in Oxford and watch for an
opportunity of fighting Waller or Essex separately.
With this object in view he disposed his army so as
to prevent the rebels from crossing the Cherwell or
Isis, the foot holding the former and the horse and
dragoons the latter. A series of smart skirmishes
ensued. Some of Waller’s forces attempted to pass
the Isis at Newbridge, but were repulsed. The next
day (29th May), however, Essex crossed the Thames
at Sandford Ferry with his whole army and quartered
himself at Islip. On his way thither he halted on
Bullingdon Green, “that the city might take a full
view of his army and he of it.” He himself rode up
within cannon shot, whilst parties of his horse skirm¬
ished about the gates, and gave the scholars and
citizens an opportunity of trying their prowess. <s It
gave some terror to Oxon,” says Wood, “and there¬
fore two prayers by his Majesty’s appointment were
made and published, one for the safety of his Majesty’s
person and the other for the preservation of the Uni-
370
Ihe Royalist Capital

versity and City, to be used in all the churches.’5 But

there was no intention of making an assault upon the
town. Essex was merely covering the passage of his
baggage train. Whilst he was thus occupied and the
scholars were making a sortie, Charles and Rupert
ascended Magdalen Tower and watched the movements
of the enemy. Next morning a determined effort was
made by Essex to pass over the Cherweil at Gosworth
Bridge, but he was repulsed by the musketeers with
considerable loss. Essex being now on the east side
of the river and cut off from communication with
Waller, the King strove to avail himself of the oppor¬
tunity of retaking Abingdon and engaging Waller
singly.
But after an unsuccessful move against Abingdon,
the design was abandoned, and the Royalist forces
were once more concentrated on the north side of
Oxford. Sir Jacob Ashley, Major-General of the
Foot, himself took command at Gosworth Bridge,
where, he perceived, Essex intended to force a passage.
There he threw up breastworks and a redoubt, and
succeeded in repulsing the enemy, who renewed their
attacks from day to day and even brought up cannon
to their support without avail. Meanwhile, however.
Waller effected the passage of the Isis at Newbridge,
quartered his van at Eynsham, and threatened the rear
of the King’s army. Ashley was compelled to retire.
Essex immediately threw his men across the Cherweil,
and quartered them that night at Bletchington. His
horse advanced to Woodstock. The King seemed
to be enveloped by the opposing armies. But after
making a demonstration against Abingdon, Charles
slipped out of Oxford on the night of 3rd June.
Marching out with six thousand men by S. John’s Road,
he made his way along a rough crooked lane and got
clear away to the north of the city. He left the Duke
371
 Oxford and its Story

of York in the town, and promised, if the place was

besieged, to do all he could to relieve it before it was
reduced to extremity. But the town had scarcely
enough provisions to stand a month’s siege.
A series of brilliant successes rewarded the per¬
severance of the King, for he now waited till Essex
marched to attack Prince Maurice at Lyme, then
turning on Waller, crushed his army at Copredy Bridge
on the Cherwell, fourteen miles north of Oxford.
After two days’ rest at Oxford, he followed up his
success by pursuing Essex into Cornwall and gaining
a complete victory over him there. But in the midst
of these successes came the news of the disaster in the
north. The star of Cromwell had risen where Rupert’s
had begun to set, at Marston Moor. ■ The battle of
Newbury checked the King’s advance on London, and
he withdrew once more to winter at Oxford (27th
October 1644). He was much pleased with the
progress that had been made with the fortifications.
In order to carry on his operations against Waller and
Essex, he had been obliged to denude Oxford of
troops. But before leaving it he had provided for its
safety. For Parliament had a strong garrison at
Reading and another at Abingdon, and the danger of
a siege seemed imminent. The inhabitants were there¬
fore commanded to provide themselves with corn and
victuals for three months, or to leave the town 4< as
persons insensible of their own dangers and the safety
of the place.” The safety of the place having been
secured, the garrison had felt themselves strong enough
to send out a force to the relief of Basing-House. The
objections of the governor, Sir Arthur Aston, who had
succeeded Sir William Pennyman in that office, were
overruled. Colonel Gage made a dash from Oxford,
relieved the Marquis of Winchester and returned safely
to Oxford after having performed one of the most
' 372
 The Royalist Capital

brilliant of the minor feats of arms that occurred during

the war. Charles, on his return, appointed him
Governor of Oxford, in place of Sir Arthur Aston,
who had broken his leg. Gage, who is buried in the
Cathedral, was killed shortly afterwards at Culham
Bridge in an attempt to surprise Abingdon.
In the spring of 1645 Oliver Cromwell appeared in
the parts about .Oxford. He was in command of
some cavalry, and the object of his movements, in
conjunction withthose of . Sir Thomas Fairfax,
was to prevent Prince Maurice from removing heavy
guns from Oxford to Hereford, and thereby to
disarrange Charles’ plan for an early campaign.
Cromwell routed Northampton at Islip. A party of
the defeated Cavaliers took refuge at Bletchington
House. Cromwell called upon the governor, Winde-
banke, to surrender. Deceived by the sheer audacity
of the demand, and moved, it is said, by the timorous
entreaties of a party of ladies from Oxford whom .he
was entertaining at Bletchington, he yielded. Winde-
banke paid dearly for . his weakness. He was
shot in the Castle - garden on his return to Oxford.
Cromwell swept round the city and defeated Sir
Henry Vaughan at Bampton. The Parliamentarians
had now achieved their object. They moved away from
Oxford. In a few weeks they were back again, and
the new fortifications of the city were at length put
to the test. The siege was heralded by the appearance
of some scattered horse near Cowley on 19th May.
Thence they, with other horse and foot, passed over
Bullingdon Green to Marston, and showed themselves
on Headington Hill. On the 2'2nd Fairfax, sat down
before Oxford. He threw up a breastwork on the
east side of Cher well, and constructed a bridge near
Marston, across which he passed some regiments.
Cromwell was commanding at Wytham and Major
373
 Oxford and its Story

Browne at Wolvercote. The most considerable

incident that occurred during the fifteen days’ siege
was a successful sortie in the direction of Headington
Hill, which was made by Colonel William Legge,
the governor of the town. Then Fairfax raised the
siege and moved north; a few weeks later the fateful
battle of Naseby was fought. Thereafter the King
finally made his way to Oxford from Newark. Here
for a while he was safe; but in the spring Fairfax
marched upon Oxford. The King was driven from
his last refuge. At three in the morning of 27th
April, disguised as a servant, with his beard and hair
closely trimmed, he passed over Magdalen Bridge in
apparent attendance upon John Ashburnham and a
scholar, one Hudson, “ who understood the byeways
as well as the common, and was indeed a very skilful
guide.” “ Farewell, Harry,” Glenham called out to
his sovereign, as he performed the governor’s duty of
closing the gates behind him. Charles’ departure was
kept so secret that Fairfax, who arrived before Oxford
on the fifth day after, sat down before the city, and
made his circumvallation before he knew of it.
The Duke of York and all the King’s Council re¬
mained shut up in Oxford. Fairfax found the city
well prepared for a siege.
“ The rising ground to the north was protected by many
strong bulwarks flanking one another. Round about the
line, both upon the bulwarks and the curtain, was strongly
set with storm poles. Outside the ditch was a strong
palisade beyond which were many pits dug so that a single
footman could not without difficulty approach to the trench.
Within the city were 5000 foot, and the place was well
supplied with stores. All this strength being apprehended
and considered by Sir Thomas Fairfax, he concluded that
this was no place to be taken at a running pull, but likely
rather to prove a business of time, hazard and industry.”

Accordingly he proceeded to make a fortified camp on

374
The Royalist Capital

Headington Hill, to make a bridge over the Gherwel!

near Marston, and establish a post between the Cher-
well and Isis on the north for the main body of his
troops. Lines were drawn from Headington to S.
Bartholomew s common road, and from thence to
Campus pits. A memento of the siege, a cannon shot
which is said to have struck the gateway tower of S.
John's College, is preserved in the library of that
college.
Little progress, however, had been made with the
siege, though the defence was for a lost cause, when
Charles, who had been handed over by the Scots to a
Committee of the House, sent orders to the governor
to make conditions and surrender the place to Fairfax.
Honourable terms were granted. Fairfax had ex¬
pressed his earnest desire to preserve a place “ so famous
for learning from ruin.” His first act, for he was a
scholar as well as a soldier, was to protect the Bodleian.
A clause to the effect that all churches, colleges and
schools should be preserved from harm was inserted in
the Articles of Surrender. The liberties and privileges
of the city and the University were guaranteed, and on
24th June the garrison, some three thousand strong,
marched out in drenching rain over Magdalen Bridge,
colours flying and drums beating, between files of
Roundhead infantry.
So ended the Great Rebellion. And the history
of it remained to be written by Edward Hyde, the
Earl of Clarendon, who came to the task equipped with
a wisdom that is born of a large experience of men
and affairs. A moderate but faithful adherent of the
Royalist cause, he could say of himself that he wrote
of events “ quorum pars magna fui.” He had been
one of the King’s most trusted advisers at Oxford.
There he lived in All Souls' College, and the King
wished to make him Secretary of State. u I must
375 '
 Oxford and its Story

make Ned Hyde Secretary of State, for the truth is I

can trust nobody else/’ wrote the harassed monarch to
his Queen. In his great history, so lively yet
dignified in style, so moderate in tone and penetrating
in its portrayal of character, he built for himself a
monument more durable than brass. A monument
not less noble has been raised for him in Oxford out
of the proceeds of that very book. For the copyright
of the history was presented to the University by his
son, and partly out of the funds thus arising the
handsome building north-east of the Sheldonian
Theatre was erected, from designs by Hawksmoor or
Vanbrugh (1713).1 Here the University Press was
transferred from the Sheldonian Theatre, where it had
found its first permanent and official home. The
“ Clarendon ” Press was removed in 1830 to the present
building in Walton Street, when it had outgrown the
accommodation of the Clarendon building.
Like Sir Harry Vane, Clarendon had been educated
at Magdalen Hall. The chair in which he wrote his
history is preserved at the Bodleian, and there too
may be seen many of the notes which his royal master
used to throw him across the table at a Council meeting.
There had been another inhabitant of Oxford in
these stirring days much affected by these events, a
vouth endowed with unbounded antiquarian enthusiasm
and an excellent gift of observation. This “ chiel
amang them taking notes” was Anthony Wood, to
whose work every writer on Oxford owes a debt
unpayable. Born in the Portionists’ Hall, the old
house opposite Merton and next door to that fine old
house, Beam Hall, where, he says, the first University
press was established, Wood was carried at the age of
four to see the entry of Charles and Rupert, and was
a Royalist ever after. Educated first at a small
Grammar School near S. Peter le Bailey and then at
1 The beautiful iron gates in the old Clarendon buildings
are by Tijou. Vanbrugh designed No. 20 St Michael’s Street.

376
The Royalist Capital

New College School, he became familiar with the

aspect of old Oxford as it was before the changes
wrought by the siege, and he was able to transcribe
into his notebooks many old inscriptions and memorials
just before a period of wanton destruction. When the
war broke out there was much ado to prevent his eldest
brother, a student at Christ Church, from donning the
armour with which his father decked out the man¬
servant. The New College boys grew soldier-struck
as they gazed from their school in the cloister upon
the train-bands drilling in the quadrangle. They
were presently turned out of their school to make
room for the munitions of war.
ButJ have.no space to write of the vicissitudes of
aA. W.Js” life; of the fate which befell Ms
biographies of Oxford writers ; of his quarrels with
the learned, pious, masterful Dean Fell, that staunch
Royalist1 and stern disciplinarian of whom every child
learns to lisp in numbers:
“ I do not like thee, Dr Fell;
The reason why I cannot tell.
But only this i know full well.
1 do not like thee, Dr Fell.”
The first step taken for the 4 s reformation ** of
Oxford was a Parliamentary order (July 1646) sus¬
pending elections in the University and colleges, and
forbidding the granting or renewing of leases. The
University petitioned Fairfax to obtain the recall of
this order, on the ground that it was contrary to the
Articles of Surrender. The prohibition was not
enforced. But the condition of the University was
deplorable. The quadrangles were empty, the courts
overgrown with grass. Scholars ceased to come up,
and those who were in residence were utterly
1 He had fought for King Charles when a student of
Christ Church.

377
 Oxford and its Story

demoralised by the war. Before the changes and

chances of war and religion, learning shrank in dismay
and discipline disappeared.
Six Presbyterian preachers were now sent down to
supersede the Royalist preachers, to beat the pulpit,
drum ecclesiastic, and convince the University. All
they succeeded in doing was to rouse the Independents
among the garrison who had already been practising m (
the schools and lecture-rooms. The Military Saints
• now set themselves, “ with wry mouths, squint eyes,
screwed faces, antic behaviours, squeaking voices and
puling tones,” to out-preach the proselytising Presby¬
terians. Royalist Oxford rocked with laughter and
congratulated itself prematurely that the revolution had
begun to devour its own children. . .
But a commission was appointed to visit the
University in May i647- Sir Nathaniel Brent,
Warden of Merton, was chairman, and Prynne a
member. Their proceedings were delayed by an
absurd trick. The University had been summoned to
appear before them in the Schools between nine and
eleven. But the preliminary sermon in 6. Mary s
was of such length that eleven had struck and the
University had dispersed before the commissioners
could get to work. The University appointed a
delegacy to act on its behalf, which drew, up a very
able and moderate series of reasons for not submitting
to the tests that were to be proposed. The authority
of the Visitors was challenged. Time was thus
gained, and the struggle that was going on between the
Presbyterians and the Independents paralysed the
Visitors. A committee of the Lords and Commons,
however, presently armed them with fresh powers.
After three hours of preliminary prayer, “a way,
says Wood, “ by which they were wont to commence
their actions’for all sorts of wickednesses,” they pro-
378
 The Royalist Capital

ceeded to inquire 44 into the behaviour of all Governors,

Professors, Officers and members.” Dr Fell and the
majority of the University offered a firm resistance.
Fell was seized and imprisoned. The action of
the Visitors, however, was still paralysed by the lack
of constitutional authority. They were once more
strengthened by the London Committee. The
business of deprivation began. Sentence was passed
upon half a dozen Heads of Houses, 44 but not a man
stirred from his place.” , The University, in fact,
continued to ignore the proceedings of the Visitors.
Even after the arrival of the Chancellor,. Lord
Pembroke, and of Fairfax’s troops, whom the Visitors
were empowered to use, the expelled Heads refused to
leave their'colleges. Mrs Fell held the deanery of
Christ Church valiantly. When the Chancellor, with
some soldiers, appeared there and desired Mrs Fell to
quit her quarters, 44 she refused that kind proposal,
had very ill language given to her by him, and then
she was carried into the quadrangle in a chair by
soldiers,” and her children on boards. The buttery
book was then sent for and Fell’s name dashed out.1
Passive resistance of this kind and the use of every
legal device to delay the action of the Visitors were
adopted everywhere.
The University fought every inch of the ground,
standing firmly on the vantage ground of constitutional

1 Fell lived on in lodgings at Oxford, keeping up (at

Beam Hall and togetherwith Dr Dolben and Dr Allestree) the
devotions and orders of the Church of England. At the
.Restoration he had his reward. As Dean of Christ Church
he set himself with all the energy of his character, to restore
the fortunes and tone of-his college, and as Vice-Chancellor
the discipline of a University which had suffered so-much
from the distractions and demoralisation of Civil War.- As
Bishop of Oxford he rebuilt the Palace at Cuddesdon, which
had been burnt during the. Civil War.

379
 Oxford and its Story

right. But the gown usually has to yield to arms.

New Heads were appointed, new M.A.’s created,
and the Visitors proceeded to purge the colleges.
Every fellow, student and servant was asked, “Do
you submit to the authority of Parliament in this
present Visitation ? ” Those who did not submit
were turned out. Presently the Negative Oath was
tendered, and subscription to “the Engagement”
was required. Rather than submit to these tests over
four hundred fellows preferred to be ejected. Puritans,
men for the most part of real learning and piety,
were substituted, though those who suffered described
“ the new plantation of saints ” as an illiterate rabble,
“ swept up from the plough-tail and scraped out of
Cambridge.”
At New College a very large proportion of the
fellows were expelled: fifty at the lowest computation.
The inquisition even extended its investigations to
the college servants. The organist, sexton, under-
butler, manciple, porter, groom .and basket bearer
were all outed, when they could not in conscience
submit. At Merton, Wood refused to answer, but
by the goodwill of the Warden and Arch Visitor, a
friend of his mother, “A. W. was connived at and
kept in his place, otherwise he had infallibly gone to
the pot.”
The Visitors acted, on the whole, in the spirit of
genuine reformers. Apart from imposing a system
of Puritan morals, they worked with a sincere desire
to make the colleges fruitful nurseries of learning.
What they did, and still more what they wished to
do, with regard to the discipline of the place was on
the right lines of educational advance.
In July an attempt was made to recapture the
guard and magazine in New College. The conspiracy
was revealed by a boozing and boastful conspirator.
38°
 The Royalist Capital

a^ins/excii^h2 °f the Sarrison’ !n F°**t

yi ianr! nf P T“d W3S checked hY the
gilance of Colonel Ingoldsby, the goyernor. 7

.T.urL Ih/u"'" * DfL- d'^“- ■»' <WU

learnW th\TUmversity ,that he meant to encourage
learning. Next year he became Chancellor, and
bes>des presenting some MSS. he resisted the proposal

supported. aCademiCaI endowm-« -hichPMi!ton

Learning and discipline were never popular • long
ET* C°mpuls0rI attendance at innumerable re?
gious exercises, aud catechisms in the tutors9 rooms
were not more so. As the sands of the Common-
wefcome^at ff ^ approachmg Restoration found a
weicome at Oxford. It was a sign of the times that
when Richard Cromwell was proclaimed Protector’
onsT'?°i “t ‘ihe tr°0perS were Pe!ted with turnip-
tops_ by the scholars m front of S. Mary’s. Without
waiting for a formal proclamation of the new order

Sk wXo W U bVrkiDd °f Sp°ntaneous “

„ weeks or more before the Restoration, a bold
Church^- thC C.ommon Prayer « S. Mary Magdalen
X, ' ,«? llUrPf ,Ce 3nd h°°d’ “d that chwas
p“pl* »h<”

At the news of the Restoration all England “went

mad with joy’ ; at Oxford the rejoicing “]asted
llthe mormng.’’ And when Coronation Day came.
Conduit ran a hogshead of wine.” Common Prayer
omoflT Md surPhces5 Pur«a° preaching went
out of fashion; the organs of Magdalen, New College
38r
 Oxford and its Story

and Christ Church. sounded once more; plays were

performed and the Solemn League and Covenant was
burnt.
Yet the prejudice against the surplice and organ
was deep. Many still denounced organ-music as
the whining of pigs. At Magdalen men clad in
surplices, with hands and faces blackened, paraded
the cloisters at twilight to encourage the story that
Satan himself had appeared and adopted the surplice.
Filthy insults and ribald abuse were heaped upon the
innocent garment.
A Royal Commission visited the University to
eject the intruders and restore those whom Parliament
had expelled. The Presbyterians took the Oath of
Allegiance and Supremacy, and were allowed to hold
their places unless some ejected fellow or scholar
appeared to claim them. But at Lincoln, where the
Independent faction was strong, several fellows were
turned out, George Hitchcock among them. He
defied the bedel who was sent to arrest him when he
refused to go. With a drawn sword and a sported
oak Hitchcock remained master of the situation until
the arrival of the military who, undaunted, stormed
the Independent’s castle and marched him off to jail.
Life at Oxford resolved itself at last to peace and
quiet study.
“The tumult and the shouting dies,
The Captains and the Kings depart

and the groves and quadrangles that had echoed with

the clash of arms, the loud laugh of roystering Cavaliers,
or the gentle rustle of sweeping trains, or the whining
of a Puritan, now resounded with the noise of the
bowling-green and tennis-court, or the chamber music
of such scholarly enthusiasts as Anthony Wood with
his fiddle, and Edmund Gregory with his bass viol.
382
 The Royalist Capital

With the Restoration a new kind of

rv'i t- st d,s
brother was the new type of rich “young gendemfo ”

SfSr.’s vz:if -a*-*-z £

Oxford yfSatlnSed byDr Earle’ « one who

b«,T he h;;rr?>,hI,
to

fencing and dancing schools Of all l

52™ “ •“ 5?

later Arthur TiHyard, “an apothecary and area-

SodJr 11°U C° we Publkly “ his house against"All

"«■ nif aLtpherwL ™en’ am°DgSt Wh°m

With the Restoration, too, the study of mere

interestinblm t0 K° °Ut °f fashion> and a humane

terest m letters began to manifest itself. pjavs

olained the °Id-fashi°«d scholars com-

™ \Were“ reRuest- Science, too, suddenly be-
ham to t'°Tb e'- CharkS Md th£ Duke of Buckina-
ham took a keen interest in chemistry; Prince Runert
solaced his old age with the 7 Rupert
called after i,- 8 “, Jiass droPs whlch are
already had ,“Tu At 0xford fflany sch°kr*
S lf* laboratories. Robert Boyle and
, ter. Sthael had for some time been lecturing on
chemistry at the Ram Inn (113 High Street^ to
-he curious, John Locke included. The King now
gave its title to the Royal Society, which h°ad i«

2 B 3«S
 Oxford and its Story

origin in the inquiries of a little group of scientific

students in London before the end of the Civil War.
It was now divided into two by the removal of its
foremost members, Dr Wilkins, Warden of Wadham,
and Dr Wallis, Savilian Professor of Geometry, to
Oxford. The Oxford branch of the society was
strengthened by such men as Sir William Petty, the
first of English economists, Dr Ward, the mathe¬
matician, Robert Boyle and Christopher Wren. In
the lodgings of Wilkins or Petty they would meet
and discuss the circulation of the blood or the shape
of Saturn, the Copernican hypothesis, the improvement
of telescopes or Nature's abhorrence of a vacuum—
any subject, in fact, which did not lead them into the
bogs of theology or politics.
u That miracle of a youth,” Dr Christopher Wren,
was one of those deputed by the University (1667) to
take a letter of thanks to Henry Howard, heir to the
Duke of Norfolk, for his princely gift of the Arundel
Marbles to the University. This gift the University
owed to the kindly offices of John Evelyn, the diarist.
The marbles were laid in the Proscholium till the
Sheldonian Theatre was finished. Ingeniously designed
by Wren to accommodate the University at the
a Act ” or “ Encaenia,” this theatre was consecrated
by Archbishop Sheldon (1669), at whose cost it was
erected. Sheldon was a Warden of All Souls’, put
out under the Commonwealth and afterwards restored,
before being promoted to the Primacy.
Wren left many other marks of his genius upon
Oxford. The chapel of B.N.C. is said to be from
his design, and may be, for it reveals the struggle that
was going on (1656) between the Oxford Gothic, as
the beautiful fan-tracery of the ceiling and the windows
bear witness, and the Italian style of the rest of the
building. Wren migrated from Wadham to All
386
 7he Royalist Capital

“chSsrt”8,r („«.,•» ,he

S1?P' heT Co!IeSe where he had been a
fellow-commoner. In the college of which he with

»£?"i rde ■ “t “”d» "■«

wealth, he made the great aod accurate sun-dial with

s«r,“dr 5r h"
desipiid ; • P P Hawksmoor it was who
aesignea the twin towers of All j *
s
ess sst' “ A«d
^g“S whlch "-e not taken, and actually d’esknft
fir!t Tt r °f the §arden q^drangle, one of the
£ addeft bmidlnKgs In 0xford- At Christ Church
Wolsey’s’ Tower ^ °C.tag0nai c«P°la to
oisey s I ower. The buttresses in Exeter Garden

aS '“The"1 bhe Bf°nieiaa are also result of his

to he ShTu b fu y proportioned building close
to the Sheldoman was presently built (168?, Wood
architect) by the University to. house the3 valuable

Ashmole! CUri°SitieS FeSented 10 k Elias

When the plague broke out in London, Charles and
his court fled to Oxford (September 1665), where
smce July, a watch had been set to keep out infected
persons flymg from London. The King and Duke
of Y°rk lodged at Christ Church; whikt, all under
the rank of master at Merton having been sent to their
omes, the Queen took up her abode there till the
followmg February. Once more courtiers filled he
co lege mstead of scholars; the loose manners of the
court were introduced mto the college precincts; the
in December88’ ^ft ,Castleraaine= bore him a bastard
Of Mmonbe n ^ 'ft WerC P °ned “P 0n the doors
rW f j ° rDIn§that eveDt- It is sadly recorded
that founder s prayers had to be recited in English,

3»7
 Oxford and its Story

because there were more women than scholars in the

chapel. And as for the courtiers, though they were
neat and gay in their apparel, yet were they, so says
the offended scholar, « very nasty and beastly ; rude,
rough, whoremongers; vain, empty and careless.”
The House of Lords sat in the Geometry School,
the House of Commons in the Convocation House,
whilst the Divinity School and the Greek School
were employed as a committee room and the Star
Chamber. After sitting for a month and passing the
Act which prohibited dissenting ministers from coming
within five miles of any city, Parliament broke up in
October. When this Act was suspended in 1672 and
Nonconformists were allowed to meet in towns, pro¬
vided they took out a licence, the Independents and
Baptists set up meeting-houses in Oxford, the
Baptists meeting first in Magdalen Street and then in
S. Ebbe’s Parish. The Nonconformist chapels were
destroyed in the Jacobite riot of 1715, but in 1720 a
new chapel was built behind the present chapel in the
New Road by the Baptists and Presbyterians in
common.
The Oxford Gazette made its first appearance during
Charles’ visit, the first number coming out on 7th
November 1665.
Again, in 1681, Parliament was summoned by
Charles II. to meet at Oxford on 21st March. He
had written in January choosing Merton, Corpus and
Christ Church to house him, his Queen, his Court1
and his Parliament. The scholars as usual departed,
but in a week the King dissolved the wicked, or
week-ed, Parliament, and the collegians returned to

1 this occasion Lady Castlemaine lodged in the rooms

of Dr Gardiner, who built the fountain afterwards known as
Mercury in Tom Quad, from the statue set up there by Dr
Radcliffe. ' - -
388
 The Royalist Capital

« s; pi“' «“>

«S&**z*£ius&8
Who w.shed to guard against the danger of a Ca&ollc

Stephen^ CoUeoe118’ ~P ^xford’ the condemnation of

wi.h h«.g „ ,he’G,d™"S" J Wh° ™ f”‘h-

wa^caeiculdaieHfiDflHX/f s° :“’any persons into the town

V P P ™t0 send UP the price of provisions. The
fix"; a rC - °r ““^y t00k the precaution of
buttef f ™ t0 the n’arket Prices- A Pound of
butter, for instance, sweet and new, the best i‘n th*
market, was not to cost more than 6d.; six eggs 2d *
or a fat plg, the best in the market, k 6d?fwhi
not more than 2s. 8d. was to be charged in every inn
for a bushel of the best oats. S y lnn

a
a Stentime«Ae!|UnKyerSity
state. “All those weWaScall
n0t Whigs”
in t0° fl°urishing
Wood

*5 T* '8005 forof theh

mg I ones, and because the Universities are
suspected of being Popish.” And Stephen Penton
the Pnnopal who built the chapel and library of s’
thatmUhd Ha .('f8®)'1 th°ught it expedient to write
k,n ”inrm,ng “ u°°k’ “The Guardian’s Instra*
non, m answer to the “rash and uncharitable censure

the Sl“s^:t!thteegharveennSow L^n^£1,0,“e' ^

part of the old wall and the old garden of S Edrn^d
m order to provide a site for a New Masonic Hall ete TV
~ °f •i* "-SXS
391
 Oxford and its Story

of the idle, ignorant, debauched, Popish University.”

But the manners of the place are indicated by such
facts as these: 66 The Act was put off because ’twas
said the Vice-Chancellor was sickish from bibbing and
smoking and drinking claret a whole afternoon.” In
1685 the mayor and aldermen, who had been splendidly
entertained by the Earl of Abingdon in return for their
election of his brother to represent them in Parliament,
« came home most of them drunk and fell off their
horses.” About the same time three Masters of All
Souls’ came drunk to the Mitre in the middle of the
night, and because the landlady refused to get up and
prepare them some food, they called her “ strange
names and told her she deserved to have her throat
cut, whereupon being extremely frightened, she fell
into fits and died.” The masters were examined by
the Vice-Chancellor and compelled to “ recant in the
Convocation.” A few months later a debauched
Master of Arts of New Inn was expelled for biting a
piece off the nose of a B.N.C. B.A.
At Balliol the buildings were literally falling to
pieces, and it was the solace of Dr Bathurst’s old age
to sit on his garden wall—he was President of Trinity
—and throw stones at the few windows that still con¬
tained any glass, u as if happy to contribute his share
in completing the appearance of its ruin.” This was
the same Dr Bathurst, who as Vice-Chancellor,
according to Prideaux’s story, had already done his
best to encourage the u men of Belial ” to deserve the
nickname bestowed upon them by Nicholas Amherst.1
£‘ There is,” wrote Prideaux, “ over against Balliol a dingy,
horrid, scandalous ale-house, fit for none but draymen and
tinkers. Here the Balliol men continually lie and by
perpetual bubbing add art to their natural stupidity to make
themselves perfect sots.”

1 Terrae Filius, 1733.

392
 The Royalist Capital

™maSterp(Dr G°°de’ a g°°d> honest old toast and

eume a Pantan) remonstrated with them and’

cloedTeed BuHneof Aem Sn«efS-n°-f th“ hellish 1!<5uor

tamely out of hi?Llj l”’ W,llm2' t0 be Poached s0
Chancdlor’s men dratk al Ifth1- "P1* ‘he Vice-
they not ttw? ^ why .hoiild
reply, immediatelv Mrfc.fh ’ beine nfnPiussed with this
formerly Vice-Chancellor,

who informed him that there was no hurt in ale

Vke!cWell Tf t0ld HS ““ that since th'

truk Si r Sld ^ere was D0 hurt in ale, though
to drink k. “g«* sJ ^ was’ hf wo^d give them leave
may be sots by authority ” " Concludes> “ ^=7

he kkctl “ 1 Mfrt0D’ where the room over

the kitchen, with the cock-loft over it, was turned
Oth 3 r°T <<f°r 1116 common use of the Fellows ”
Other colleges quickly followed an example which

witTtn3CCeSS10n °f Jaces IL was haiIed at Oxford

lit
lit at
at CarfaxXand
Carfax and fi°nSK Tk^
five barrels A lafge
of beer bonfire
broached in was
the
Town Hall, to be drunk by all comers. There were
bonfires m all the colleges, where the resne«Le

Rovafp lk “"S’ t0 the KinPg and

Royal Family. At Merton, Wood tells us ‘‘the

that n*1 htd greatef Sr.ni°rS °f 1116 house were mellow

las cefebrated3? Colleges-; And the coronation
was celebrated by a sermon and bonfire at S. Marv’s
and great extraordinaries in eating and drinking^

393
 Oxford and its Story

each College/5 But there were many townsmen who

had been ready (1683) to shout for “a Monmouth ! a
Monmouth! no York!55 and after Monmouth’s
Rebellion, when the University raised a regiment,
whose uniforms at any rate were gallant, several of the
citizens were arrested as Rebels. It was not long
before the bigotry and tyranny of James drove the
University itself into that resistance to the royal
authority which was so alien to its teaching and tradition.
For James set himself to convert the training-place of
the English clergy into a Roman Catholic seminary.
The accession of a sovereign attached to the Roman
Church had been the signal for many who had hitherto
concealed their opinions to avow their devotion to that
communion. The Master of University College was
one of those who had conformed to the rites of the
Anglican Church whilst supporting so far as he dared,
in the pulpit and the press, the doctrines of Rome.
He now openly avowed his conversion and did his
utmost to promote the Roman Catholic cause. Ave
Maria Obadiah, as he was nicknamed from an
academic catch of the time, was authorised by the
King to appropriate some college rooms for a chapel
under the Roman ritual. He had already been
absolved by a royal dispensation from the duty of
attending the services of the Church of England, and
from taking the Oaths of Allegiance and Supremacy.
Walker’s doings were at first received with ridicule
and then with indignation. But secure of the King’s
favour, he continued on his Romanising way. He
erected a press at the back of the college, and published
under royal licence a series of controversial books
maintaining Romish doctrines. The University was
disgusted and alarmed at this deliberate attempt to
undermine the National Church in the very centre of
its chief stronghold. A pamphlet war ensued, but it
394
 Ihe Royalist Capital

was a war in which the King made it evident on the

the^ide* of Ob'd' T °X/°rd in l6®7 that he °n

„ “ e of Obadiah. A statue of the monarch was

UniXskvV^ °f the kr§e jangle of

- ,be ““ °f "»
At Christ Church, meanwhile, Massey a convert
»d cmature of W,|k„, M be..’ appoint^ dI“'w
tLCT715 T11DStaIled witil0ut protest by the Chapter7
1?ry,°rC*r,hur!' S up
attended m.alStl A*. Alff'l 1“,r,™“
^ admitted as^den^.t 'pSef. 'tm
bp he royal Fero8,dve. B.t J,n„L, „.t “

b.cth,” SSffl.",h ,h' M'” “ »*■«

The office of President was vacant. The TTinrr
recommended for election Anthony Farmer, a disre¬
putable Cantab of notoriously bad character, who had
migrated to Oxford, and "who, never having £
fellow either of Magdalen or New College had no
qualification for the presidentship. But he was reputed
o be mchned to Romanism. This virtue was apparently

TheJS.,'y'*fhb'fifrd
■he »„d„, .f jm„'„d .LS™ h”J 'f ^
to whom there could be no objection. Cited to
y:rr,bef0rhe Ecc^es*astical Commission on com-
plaint that they had disregarded the King’s mandate
the ^ce-PresidentandfeUows, through their delegate!’

char r ^ referenCe t0 **
the character of Farmer. Jefferies, who presided
had to admit that Farmer was proved to the court to
be a very bad man.” The college was commanded
Oxford “Th6" T 0f“fJ KiDg’s>P«ker, Bishop of
Oxford. The college held that the place of President

395
 Oxford and its Story

was already filled. To enforce obedience, James now

came over from Woodstock (3rd September) in
person.
The King wore a scarlet coat, and an old beaver
hat edged with a little lace, not worth a groat, as some
of the people shouted. He proceeded very slowly to
the North Gate, where he found eight poor women all
clad in white, some of whom strewed the way before
the King with herbs,

“ which made a very great smell in all the street, continuing

so all the night till the rain came. When he came to
Quatervois he was entertained with the wind music or waits
belonging to the city and University, who stood over the
Penniless Bench—all which time and after the Conduit ran
claret for the vulgar.”

The fellows of Magdalen were summoned to the

royal presence in Christ Church Hall, where they were
rudely reprimanded and bidden to go to their chapel,
and elect the bishop forthwith or they should know
what it was to feel the weight of a king’s hand. “ Is
this your Church of England loyalty?” James cried.
“ Get you gone. I am King. I will be obeyed! ”
Curious to think that William Penn, who had
formerly been sent down from Christ Church for
Nonconformity, was present at this scene ; and a
servitor of Exeter, the father of the Wesleys, quitted
it, a resolved to give the tyrant no kind of support.”
The fellows protested their loyalty, but declared that
it was not in their power to do what the King required.
Penn, the courtly Quaker, endeavoured to bring about
a compromise, but seems to have been convinced at
last that an agreement was impossible. Hough’s
comment on these negotiations was, “ It is resolved
that the Papists must have our College. All that we
can do is, to let the world see that they take it from
us, and that we do not give it up.” A commission
396
 7be Royalist Capital

I-!r&W£=
eccleTLrical e*P*1,ed’ and ^ere declared incapabie of
to ecogn se The. demies> ^ho refused
o recognise barker, were not interfered with bv the
commission; they remained in the college holding

?noPrtrtheCep ^ theiLlves tnl

WhPtl h Prpl j fe °WS who were introduced
the t0 °bLe>'the officers nominated by
»• , & e!f^leen were expelled. Parker

that he had been going too fast. He began to Vrf

desperately for the support he had alienafed K
restored the ejected fellows, but tbev had scarctlv
returned when William’s supporters; under Told
Lovelace, entered Oxford in force. They were

ns
m their m ie East
black Gate
gowns, by the
who wentmay°r
withand
them up the

peopleftrSet ami<1 the Sh°UtS aDd congratuiations of the

T ^eaMinlt lhe MaSter 0f University had fled to

London with his nominee, the Dean of Christ Church
He was captured by the mob and thrown into the

“wld^ ”Dtoa Charff °f,hi?h treas0n‘ And at Oxford

Driest e« derlirwf’^ metaPhor of aa Oxford
P y declined. The Jesuits, who had been “ i0
very hopeful way and had three public shops

frustrated Tk • ^ ^ ^ thek sche™

trough. „ u.”L","e” *“d Pl“”g °f «“
The Coronation of WiUiam and Mary was observed

397
 Oxford and its Story

by a special Act ceremony, in which one of the pieces

recited was 44 Magdalena Ridens,” Magdalen smiling
in triumph at the flight of her oppressor. October
25, 1688, was the day on which James had restored
the ejected fellows. Ever since, the college has
observed that day, and yearly the members pledge
each other in a loving-cup, Jus suum culque.
 CHAPTER X

Jacobite Oxford~and after

Addison and Sacheverell-Hanoveriansand “Honest” Men

Addison whose name is traditionally connected with

kingfishers'llJ3if1 °d ^ ^agda^en walksJ where the

ngfisher flashes adown the river, a flame of blue,”
^d Henry Sacheverell, his friend and chamber-fellow
The former outlined the pacific policy of the
Hanoverians in the Freeholder; for the latter, when
uUt h'S “ b °°dy £aS and banner of defiance ”
against the existing order, as for Atterbury, Oxford
was loud with the cheers of “honest” men. For

wasllnti;Jacobitef ^ CentUry °xford

in JSh=fi°kCke> bad h*™ susPected of complicity

hadShf bMy 3 jeS,lga a§ainst succession! and
at ChrTs! rT°led (l68^ from bis student’s place
at Christ Church in accordance with the directions
of a royal mandate, had warned William that the
g0°d effects of the revolution would be lost if no care
Han ken t0 fjS^late the Universities. But the
W~T aV°’,ded °PPress>ve measures. The Tory
e Club, under the cabalistic name of High

399
 Oxford and its Story

Borlace, to which no member of a Whig college like

Wadham, Christ Church, Exeter or Merton might
belong, was allowed to meet annually at the King’s
Head Tavern on 18th August to toast the King
across the water and drink confusion to the rival
Constitution Club. But the triumph of the Whigs at
the accession of George I. and the disappointment of
“honest” men, led to a great riot on the first
anniversary of the birthday of the new sovereign.

« Mobs paraded the streets, shouting for the Pretender

and putting a stop to every kind of rejoicing. The
Constitution Club had gathered to commemorate the day at
the Kind’s Head. The windows were illuminated and
preparations made for a bonfire. Tossing up their caps and
scattering money among the rabble that flocked to the front
of the hotel, the Jacobite gownsmen egged them on with
shouts of 4 No George,’ 4 James for ever,’ « Ormond,’ or
« Bolingbroke ! ’ The faggots were torn to pieces, showers
of brickbats were thrown into the clubroom. The Con-
stitutioners were glad to escape with their lives by a back¬
door. Thus baffled the mob rolled on to attack all illumi¬
nated houses. Every Whig window was smashed. The
meeting house was entered and gutted. . . . At last the
mob dispersed for the night, publicly giving out that 4 the
glorious work ’ was left unfinished till to-morrow. The
twenty-ninth of May was associated with too significant
reminiscences to be allowed to pass in quiet. Sunday
though it was, the streets were filled with people running
up and down with oak-boughs in their hats, shouting,
£ King James, the true King. No usurper! The Good
Duke of Ormond.’ The streets were brilliantly illuminated,
and wherever disregard was shown to the mob’s fiat, the
windows were broken. . . . The crowds grew thicker and
noisier towards even. A rumour had got abroad that Oriel
had given shelter to some of the Constitutionalists. The
mob rushed to the attack and threatened to break open the
closely-barred gates. At this moment a shot from a window
wounded one of the ringleaders, a gownsman of Brasenose,
and the crowd fled in confusion to break fresh windows,
gut the houses of dissenters, and pull down the chapels of
Anabaptists and Quakers ” (Green). 1
400
 Jacobite Oxford—and after

pT* Tw°f °f. r!J°1C1CSS on the birthday of the

Prmce of Wales led to further disturbance. The
major of a recruiting party then in Oxford drew out
his regiment to celebrate the day. They were attacked

bLknk canridgesandTrre
cartridges. The matter wast0made
haVethe
res0urce to
occasion
of a grand debate in the House of Lords. But in
tfonTTV^ Government had shown its apprecia-
* dangerous disloyalty of Oxford by dis¬
patching Major-General Pepper thither with a number
Ma£f°l?S’ 0n the outbreak of Mar’s Rebellion.
Martiai law was at once proclaimed, and suitable
measures were taken “to overawe the University.”
ihe Grown had recently purchased Bishop Moore’s
magnificent library and presented it to Cambridge.
iWed DrnTW thefreafent of the two Universities
Profe“ “f p°»>-. “
KinS’ observing with judicious eyes
1 he wants of his two Universities,
To Oxford sent a troop of horse ; and why ?
X hat learned body wanted loyalty 3
To Cambridge books he sent, as well discerning
. How much that loyal body wanted learning..” *

To which the Cambridge wit. Sir Thomas Browne,

retorted with still greater neatness and point:

“ Ihe to Oxford a troop of horse

vi?-rLTories, °wn no argument but force ;
■p l£ w?-Ua cf re.to Cambridge books he sent,
ror Whigs admit no force but argument.”

The famous county election of 1754, when the

Jacobite rioters held the approach to Broad Street,
but the Whigs managed to slip through Exeter
College and so gam the polling booths, shows that
Uxtord had not changed its sentiments, but when
lory principles mounted the throne with Georoe
2 C
401
 Oxford and its Story

HI Jacobitisra disappeared like a dream. The

reign of Toryism did little to promote the cause of
learning or conduct. During the eighteenth century
examinations for a degree were little better than a

^arC£ y “ E’en Balaam’s ass

If he could pay the fee, would pass,”
sanw the poet. Lecturers ceased to lecture ; Readers
did°not read. In many colleges scholars succeeded
to fellowships almost as a matter of course, and tutors
were as slow to enforce, as “ Gentlemen Commoners”
would have been swift to resent, any study or dis-
cipline as part of the education of a Beau pr Buck.
Though Oriel produced Bishop Butler, for Oxford
was still the home of genius as well as of abuses, the
observance of religion dwindled down to a roll-call.
And corrupt resignations of fellowships, by which the
resigning fellow nominated his successor, in return for
a fee, were paralleled in the city by wholesale corrup¬
tion at elections. The mayor and aldermen in 1768
even had the effrontery to propose to re-elect their
representatives in Parliament for £7500, the.amount
of the municipal debt 1 This bargain, in spite of a
reprimand from the Speaker and a committal to. New¬
gate for five days, they succeeded in. striking with the
Duke of Marlborough and Lord Abingdon.
For the rest, it was the age of periwigs and patches,
of coffee-houses and ale, of wine and common rooms,
of pipes and news-letters, of a University ajfing the
manners of London and Bath in Merton College
Gardens or the race-course of Woodstock.
Bucks and Bloods were succeeded by the Smarts,
whose beautiful existences Terr* Filius has described
for us. Called by the servitor at six, they tumbled
out of bed, their heads reeling, with the last night’s
debauch, to attend a chapel service. For the habit of
402
DR. JOHN RADCLIFFE
Jacobite Oxford—and after

early rising was still in vogue, and though a Smart

might rise late, his lateness seems early to us. For
it was held disgraceful to be in bed after seven,
though carried there over-night drunk but not dis¬
graced. But the Smart’s breakfast was scarce over
by ten ; a few notes on the flute, a glance at the
last French comedy, and in academic undress he is
strolling to Lyne’s coffee-house. There he indites
a stanza or a billet-doux to the reigning Sylvia of
the town; then saunters for a turn in the park or
under Merton wall, while the dull regulars, as
Amherst has it, are at dinner in hall according to
statute. Dinner in his rooms and an hour devoted
to the elaborate business of dress, and the Smart is
ready to sally forth in silk-lined coat with laced
ruffles at breast and wrist, red stockings and red-
topped Spanish leather shoes, and laced hat or square
cap most rakishly cocked. So emerging from his
rooms, with tripping gait and jaunty dangle of his
clouded amber-headed cane, he is about to pay a visit
to the coffee-house or parade before the windows of
a Toast when he stops to jeer at some ragged servitor
of Pembroke, a Samuel Johnson perhaps, going round
shamefacedly in worn-out shoes to obtain second-hand
the lectures of a famous Christ Church tutor, or a
George Whitefield, wrestling with the devil in Christ
Church walks, or hesitating to join the little band of
Methodists who, with Charles and John Wesley at
their head, are making their way through a mocking
crowd to receive the Sacrament at S . Aid ate’s, S.
George’s in the Castle or S. Mary’s.
But the Smart cares for none of these things.
Sublimely confident in his own superiority he passes on ;
drinks a dram of citron at Hamilton’s, and saunters off
at last to chapel to show how genteelly he dresses and
how well he can chaunt. Next he takes a dish of
403
 Oxford and its Story

tea. with some fair charmer, with whom he discusses,

with an infinite nicety of phrase, whether any wears
finer lace or handsomer tie-wigs than Jack Flutter,
cuts a bolder bosh than Tom Paroquet, or plays ombre
better than Valentine Frippery. Thereafter he escorts
her to Magdalen walks, to Merton or Paradise gardens;
sups and ends the night, loud in song, deep in puns,
put or cards, at the Mitre. Whence, having toasted
his mistress in the spiced cup with the brown toast
bobbing in it, he staggers home to his college, “a
toper all night as he trifles all day.” Yet the names
we have mentioned remind us that there was, even in
the eighteenth century, another side to the picture.
Meantime certain improvements were taking place
in the city. Under the Commissioners Act (!77 0
the streets were widened and paved, and most of the
walls and gates removed—Bocardo along with them.
Turnpike Roads and the Enclosures Acts led to the
disappearance of the highwaymen, by whom coaches,
ere railways took the place of the “flying coach,”
which first went to London in one day “ with A. W.
in the same coach’5 (1669), had so frequently been
held up near Oxford. Curiously enough highwaymen
were most popular with the fair sex, and the cowardly
ruffians occasionally returned the compliment so far as
to allow them to ransom their jewels with a kiss.
Claude Duval, the prince of highwaymen, after
capturing a coachful of ladies, was satisfied with danc¬
ing a coranto with each in turn upon the green. He
was executed at Oxford. He had maintained his
nonchalance to the end ; played “ Macheath in the
prison, and threw himself off at the gallows without
troubling the hangman. It was not death, he declared,
but being anatomised that he feared. And, lest their
hero should be put to so useful a purpose, a Jarge body
of bargemen surrounded the scaffold, carried off the
404
 Jacobite Oxford—and after

body in triumph to the parish church and buried it in

lime forthwith.
At length, after the Age of Reason and Materialism,
came the Age of Revival and Romance. The spirit
of medievalism summoned up by Sir Walter, was
typifiedm Oxford architecture by Sir Gilbert Scotland
ugm. In the University the beginning of a new
or er o things, which was to end in throwing open
the Universities to the whole Empire and rendering
them on every side efficient places of education, was
begun m 1800 by the system of Honours Lists, lono
advocated by reformers like John Eveleigh of Oriel
and brought into being by the energy of Cyril Jackson,
?e,rn, °f rfhnst Church’ and Parsons, Master of
a 10J. The work of nationalising the Universities
was developed by the two University Commissions
and by that “Extension” movement, of which the
pioneer was William Sewell, a remarkable tutor of
Exeter, who, in 1850, urged that “It may be im¬
possible to bring the masses to the University, but may
it not be possible to carry the University to the
masses. This development of the University,
which must ever be closely connected with the name
of Dr Jowett, Master of Baliiol, and has received a
hirther significance _ from the last testament of Cecil
Rhodes,2 of Oriel, is illustrated on every side by new
buildings; by the Indian Institute, the Nonconformist
colleges, Mansfield and Manchester, the Women's
1 The foundation, of Ruskin Hall by two young Americans,
Walter vrooman and Charles Beard, was a move in the
tormer direction {1899). It is intended to provide facilities
tor residence and study for the working-classes. It first
occupied an old house in S. Giles’, and has since developed
into Ruskin College and moved into large red-brick buildings
at^the comer of Worcester Place.
2 A medallion-portrait marks his old rooms in St Edward’s
Street: a more artistic memorial is hung on the walls of the
Examination Schools; the most fitting is the'extension of
Oriel College, and the charming Rhodes House {1929).
4°5
 Oxford and its Story

Halls, the Science Buildings and the new foundation

of Hertford College,1 grafted on that of old Hart
Hall and Magdalen Hall by Mr Baring. Intellectually
the spirit of revolt produced by the French Revolution
at the beginning of this period, is illustrated by the
careers of Shelley and Landor, and the musical lyrics
of Swinburne; the deep questionings prompted by the
Tractarian Movement are voiced in the poems of
Clough, Keble and Arnold. For in the first half of
the nineteenth century there was a revival of spirituality,
and men followed the lead, not of a WyclifFe, an
Erasmus or a Wesley, but of Keble, Pusey and New¬
man. Oriel College, whose fellowships were confined
neither to members of the college nor, in most cases,
to candidates from certain places, was the centre whence
men like Hurreli Froude, Keble’s pupil, preached their
doctrine of reaction ; men who, finding the Church of
England in a very parlous state, counselled a return to
what was best in medievalism, and, protesting against
the Protestantism of the English Church, taught
Newman to look with admiration towards the Church
of Rome. The name of Keble and the impulse which
he gave to Anglicanism are commemorated in Keble
College; the prominence of the chapel, which contains
Holman Hunt’s 64 Light of the World,” and the
arrangement of the buildings emphasise the fact that it
was founded to provide the poorer members of the
Church of England with higher education on Church
lines.
The revival of medievalism in Religion was echoed
by a revival of medievalism in Art. John Ruskin,
who had matriculated at Christ Church in 1836,

1 The view from the corner of Hertford College in which

S. Mary’s groups behind the Radcliffe Camera, and the
Camera behind the corner of the Bodleian, ranks among the
finest architectural views in the world.
406
 Jacobite Oxford—and after

0f from

f8Pcef3Th SOda!iSt’’? toP°E4taefin

Bume-Jones^boLTou? with Sir Edward
roofed house, °!| , °M “P°n “the ™ion of grey-
of many bells 53 which* mmi^ freet and the sound
•WO fri/odVh™ Sth'?.for h "• The
» .he e™, 1"S, 1 'h'f
windows of the Cathedral. C^aPeI acd m the
Schools the trreat teacher’ ^ st ,at Corpus and in the
of enthusiastfr 2athered round him a circle
WyclS, WesleV orD\Tmen’ and a° Abelard,
so advised and inspired^h!™11- u reliSious world,
gospel, that whenP in ? ""th hr S°CIaI and artistic
principle “laborare est^rlre"^hf d°U m°n?stic
to mend a farmer’s road at FT n e,d uP°n them
their bats and oars and mar ,ln?kse?> theY Eld aside
at their head to dm « \h ° Wlt^ professor
surfi inc * *s W1^ spade and shovel Out nf

S.ST'LTSi' f;f”,
Arnold Toynbee.
u”"»t
London’ ,naugurated by

*«hbfr..”s tz **- “T'f”*if “»h™

srss? t sHi

enough ,h» th, Eritic'w" “Sri'0'”8 d'P'°"Uj

Town Hdl l s“l£,°'af‘l “d >‘e

4O7
 Oxford and its Story

to every style of architecture that can be found in the

University, and to look back upon the history of the
town and of the learned institution with which for
good and evil it has been so closely connected, with
no ungracious feeling.
The rapid growth of the place as a residential and
industrial centre is being provided for by a considered
scheme of “regional town planning5’ for develop¬
ments both within and without the City. New roads
and bridges are being built; the erection of new
buildings and garden suburbs supervised. Botley
Road, the main approach from Gloucester, has been
widened. A by-pass is contemplated and urgently
needed.
The Oxford Preservation Trust has been formed
(1898) with the object of raising funds to acquire
lands in the vicinity, and to guide the necessary
process of expansion so as to avoid unnecessary
destruction of amenities. Every friend of Oxford
and lover of its beauties owes it his support.
In 1930, Sir William Morris, having purchased
from the trustees the site and buildings of the Rad-
cliffe Observatory, vested it in trustees for the use
of the Radcliffe Infirmary and the Medical School
of the University. The Observatory, the second
oldest in England, was built from a graceful design
by Keene, improved by Wyatt (1772), in the form
of an octagon Tower of the Winds, and adorned with
magnificent figures of Atlas and the Winds by John
Bacon, the sculptor of the fine portraits of Black-
stone at All Souls and of George III. at Christ Church.
Under the Morris Trust the Observatory buildings
are now to be used for the development of an Oxford
University Institute of Medical Research, whilst the
rest of the site will be devoted to the needs of the
Infirmary.
4.08
 APPENDIX 1
The College Buildings

To view College Buildings apply to the porters at the

College lodges at the main entrances. A small fee is usually
expected when the Halls, Chapels, etc. have to be opened.

All Souls’ College (High Street). Founded 1437.

Front quadrangle, fifteenth century.
Chapel on the N.^side (open 12-1, and 2-4 in term time'.
Late Perpendicular. Original glass in the Ante-Chapel.
fe/edos restored 1876. The Noli me tangere of Raphael
Mengs, once the Altar-piece, now hangs in the Ante-
Cnapel.
The Great Ouadrangle:—
Hall 1729 ^
Codrington Library (N.) | First half of eighteenth
£ioister f century.
Hawksmoor’s Twin Towers J

Balliol College (Broad Street). Founded 1266*

The Old Hall (Library) 1
The Old Library , L Fifteenth century.
Portion of the Master^ Lodgings J
Chapel (Butterfield) nineteenth century. Some old glass
sixteenth and seventeenth century (Abraham van
Linge). Jowett Memorial (Onslow Ford).
The New Hall *| J
Garden Quadrangle (N. side) | {Wcterimsi) nineteenth
First Quadrangle (E. side) j century.
The College Front J
Fishers Buildings, corner of the Broad, eighteenth century.

Brasenose College (High Street). Founded 1509,

Old Quadrangle, 1509 :—
Tower Gateway, 1509.
Hall, 1509.
 Appendix 1
Second Quadrangle, seventeenth century:—
Chapel (? Sir Christopher Wren), 1666.
(? Fan Tracery from S. Mary’s College).
Library (? Sir Christopher Wren), 1663.
New Quadrangle (T. G. Jackson). 1887.

Christ Church Cathedral (St Aldatds).

See Chapter I.
Choral Service 10 A.M. and 5 P.M. daily.

Christ Church (JEdes Christi—C£ The House ”).

Tom Tower lower part begun by Wolsey; the upper part
{Wren), 1682.
ct Tom ” may be seen on application to the Porter on payment of 2d.
Tom Quadrangle {Wolsey): N. side, 1668.
The Hall (Wolsey),
Staircase roof, 1640.
The Kitchen (Wolsey),
The Old Refectory of S. Frideswide’s Monastery, (S. of the
Cathedral), converted from a library into rooms, 1775.
The Cloisters, fifteenth century.
Chapter House, Early English, (admirably restored, 1880);
(doorway c 1180).
Belfry, completed 1879.
New Buildings (1866).
Peckwater Quadrangle (designed 1
by Dean AldricK) j-Early eighteenth century.
Library J
Canterbury Quadrangle and Doric \ T . . . .
Gateway V Late eighteenth century.

The Hall of Christ Church is the most superb Refectory

in England. It measures 115 feet by 40. It was originally
paved with yellow and green tiles. The splendid roof of
Irish oak bears the date of 1529, and the exquisite panelling
which lines the walls is enriched by a wonderful collection
of portraits of members of the foundation. (Fee 2d.).
The Cardinal Wolsey, formerly attributed to Hans
Holbein, provides us with an authentic view of the buildings
of Cardinal’s College.
The Library (open 11-1 ; Fee 3d.) contains General
Guise’s collection of Pictures and Drawings chiefly by the
Italian Masters. Here too is preserved Wolsey’s Cardinal’s
Hat.
410
Appendix I

Corpus Christi College {Merton Street). Founded 1516.

The Front Quadrangle:—
Gateway
Hall
Chapel (much restored); Rubens Altar-piece
Library (of which Erasmus wrote that it 1 1520.
would attract more scholars to Oxford j
than were formerly attracted to Rome
nl, dial \n centre of Quadrangle, 1581. Restored 1008.
Old President’s Lodgings, 1600.
Cloisters a
New Fellows’ 1
Buildings (built by Dr Turner. 1706.
President) 1
New President's Lodgings, 1906.
The small College Garden contains traces of the Old
City Wall and affords a good view.
New buildings, N. side of Merton Street (T. G.
Jachon), 1885.

Exeter College (Turl Street). Founded 1314 and 1566.

Quadrangle, seventeenth century.
West front and * 1
Tower Gateway ^Rebuilt 1703. Refaced 1834.
OK (I,60S) . J.
Chapel, a clever imitation of the beautiful Sainte
Chapelle in Paris (Sir Gilbert Scott t 1858). Carved
oaken stalls designed by Bodley, 1884.
Open daily 1-4 p.m.
On the South wall the magnificent tapestry, Adoration of
wasrdesi^ned SfrE. Burne-Jones and executed
by William Morris, both Honorary Fellows of the College.
One of the noblest pieces of modern handicraft.
Hall, 1618. Restored 1818. Jacobean Gothic.
Library, Sir G. Scott 1855.
Rector’s Lodgings, 1857 (includes old fifteenth century
gateway of the College).
New Quadrangle, facing Broad Street (Underwood),
1832-1856. v Js
Hertford College (New College Street) Hart Hall, 1282;
Magdalen Hall, 1847, transferred hither 1820 V Founded
1874.
Quadrangle:—
Library, Elizabethan.
Eastern side, Jacobean.
 Appendix I
Chapel, 1716. New Chapel (1907). T. G. Jackson. Mixed
Gothicand Renaissance. Much of the detail is as lovely
as it is learned, and the craftsmanship is admirable.
Re red os (War Memorial), 1923.
West Front (facing the Bodleian), 1S22.
Gateway and Hall (N.) (T. G. Jackson), 1889.
New Buildings, Fellows’ Lodgings, etc., including the
Old Chapel of Our Lady fronting New College
Lane (T. G. Jackson), 1889-1906. Mixed style.
The Old Chapel rebuilt, 1925.
Jesus College (Turl Street). Founded 1571.
Outer Quadrangle:—
Principal’s Lodgings, seventeenth century.
Library (1621), and Chapel (1621). Late Gothic.
New (E.) Front and Gateway Tower (Buckler), 1854.
The new wing now a-building, 1907, (Ship Street) is
in strict harmony with the rest of the College.
Inner Quadrangle:—
Begun (N. and S.) c. 1635. Completed, eighteenth
century.

St John’s College. (S. Giles’) Founded 1555.

Remains of S. Bernard’s College (1437):—
Front, Tower-gateway and W. side of First
Quadrangle.
Remainder of First Quadrangle :—
Hall (1502) modernised.
Chapel (1530) modernised. East window, Kempt.
President’s Lodgings.
Second (Canterbury) Quadrangle, Ini*o Jones: Classical
colonnades and Gothic Garden front. Completed
1636.
Library, S. (1597) and E. (1635) contains interesting
relics of Arch. Laud, through whose munificence
it was completed, the portrait of Charles I. and
many rare books including a Caxton’s Chaucer and
the First Prayer Book of Edward VI.
New Buildings, N. of the College (G. Scott), 1880-1901.
Gardens. Open free to the public.

Keble College (Parks Road). Founded 1868.

Chapel (Butterfield), 1873.
Hall and Library {Butterfield), 1876.
(All Gifts of the Gibbs family of Tyntesfield.)
Warden’s House, 1882.
In the Chapel Holman Hunt’s <f The Light of the
World,” the gift of Mrs Combe, who also gave the Holman
412
Appendix I

Hunt pictures to the University Gallery, may be seen by

obtaining a 6d. ticket from the porter. The Chapel is open
free daily 10-12 and 2-5.30 (4 in winter).
Lincoln College <; Turl Stnet). Founded 1427
Front Quadrangle, fifteenth century:_
Library (N.), 1436. ^New Library (1907). Rein and
Adacdonald. Renaissance.
Hall and kitchen (perhaps part of Old Winton Hall),
(E.)Tfae Hall has its old Louvre or central chimney,
1436. Restored from eighteenth century mishand¬
ling in 1891 by T. G Jackson.
Rector’s Lodgings (S.), 1467 and 1884.
South Quadrangle (The square window over the passage
is John Wesley’s room), seventeenth century.
Chapel (glass and wood-carving noteworthy 1631)
New, Grove, Buildings (T. G. Jackson) 1880. ’
The Imp over the entrance gateway (1900) is a reproduc¬
tion of an old leaden grotesque which has been confused
with the ‘£ devil which looks o’er Lincoln ” (Cathedral).
St Mary Magdalen College {High Street). Foundation
Stone laid, 1474.
Parts of the old Hospital of S. John are!
traceable in the Kitchen and Chaplain’s -thirteenth century.
Quadrangle, right of entrance J
Entrance Gateway, 1885.
Bell Tower (c. 150 feet high), 1492.
S. John’s Quadrangle:—
Chapel (E.) | ,
Grammar Hail j c' I4^°*
To the Chapel admission free, 2-4 p.m.
Choral Service 10 a.m.
6 p.m. (public admitted to the ante-
chapel only; on Sundays an
order is necessary).
President’s Lodgings (Bodley and Garner), 1887.
S. Swithun’s Quadrangle (W.), (Bodley and Garner \ 1884.
Founder’s Tower }
Library f
The Cloisters ( * 1^°-
The Hall )
New Buildings, 1733. New Quadrangle, 1929.
The very beautiful Altar-piece—Christ bearing His Cross
—is the work of a Spanish Master (? Morales).
The Water Walks, including Addison's Walk, 'are open, free
413
 Appendix 1

to the public. The Grow (Deer-Park) may be seen from the

New Buildings, or from the walks, but is not open to the
public.

Merton College (Merton Street), Founded 1264.

Gateway and Tower, 1418.
College Front, late sixteenth century, remodelled 1836.
S. Alban’s Quadrangle, on site of S. Alban’s Hall, c. 161a.
{Basil Champneys), X907.
Chapel and Tower (Geometrical Decorated), 1297-1451.
Altar-piece ascribed to Tintoretto.
Front Quadrangle:—
Sacristy, fourteenth century.
Hall (old glass), thirteenth century (restored) ; re¬
modelled, 1794 and 1874 (Sir G. Scott).
Muniment Room (Treasury), thirteenth century.
Warden’s House, late fifteenth century.
Mob Quadrangle;—thirteenth and fourteenth century.
Library, 1377.
Outer Sacristy, thirteenth century.
New Building {Butterfield), 1864.
Fellows’ Quadrangle, Late Gothic, 1610.
G arden. Quadrangle facing Christ Church Meadows, 1930.
Relics of the Church of S. John Baptist, over Entrance
Gateway.

New College (iV<r *10 College Street.) Founded 1379.

Entrance Gateway and Tower, and Warden’s'
House (W.)
Front Quadrangle (Storey added seventeenth
century):—
Chapel, 1383 (fourteenth century Glass, Brasses,
Carving). Restored by Sir G. Scott and roof
disastrously raised, 1879.
{Pearson) 1890-1894.
Staff. (Transition)
Reredos restored
Founder’s Pastoral
Late I
four¬
teenth
century.
Cloisters (1400)
Hall. Restored by Sir G. Scott (N.)
Kitchen
Muniment Tower
Library (E.), 1386
Bell-Tower, circ. 1400 /
Garden, open 9 a.m. till dusk. Closed on Sundays in
summer until z f.m. City Walls and Slype, thirteenth
century.
414
 Appendix I

Garden Quadrangle, seventeenth century.

New Buiidings (Holywell Street), Sir G. Scott 1876 . and
JSasil Lhampneys 1884-1897.
New Gateway Tower (in memory of Mr Alfred Robinson,
Bursar and Benefactor), 1898 (ChaminevA.
The Chapel is open free u-i and i-+, (3 on Saturday).
Choral Service open to the public daily, during term
8 a.m. (7.3o. Summer), and 3 p..m., Sunday 9.30. am.
and 6 P M. An order from the Sub-Warden is necessary
on Sunday. '

Oriel College (Grid Street). Founded 1326.

First Quadrangle l
Hali I16-C-16
Chapel (restored, T. G. Jackson, 1884) J^
Garden Quadrangle, eighteenth century.
Library {Wyatt), 1788.
Extension to High Street, Cecil Rhodes Memorial. (Basil
Lhampneys, 1911v

Pembroke College (Pembroke Street), Founded 1624.

Library (Refectory, slightly altered, of old Broadgates
rian). 0
Rest of Front Quadrangle seventeenth century : Gothicised
nineteenth. ’
Chapel, eighteenth century (interior, 18S5).
Hall (good modem Gothic, Hayward), 1848.
Dr Johnson’s rooms were over the gateway in the second
storey. His portrait by Reynolds hangs In the Senior Com¬
mon Room, and a copy of another portrait of him, also by
Reynolds, in the Hall. In the Library are a bust and a sketch
of him in old age; the MS. of Johnson’s “Prayers and
Meditations,” his college essays, letters and two of his desks.
Jn the Senior Common Room, among other relics his be¬
loved tea-pot. 5

Queen’s College and St Edmund’s Hall {High Street).

Founded 1340.
Front Quadrangle (Hawksmoor), Italian style, early
eighteenth century. 1
Hall.
Chapel ( Wren), seventeenth century glass {Van Linge).
Back Quadrangle, seventeenth century.
Library (ceiling and carving by Grinling Gibbons), late
seventeenth century. *

415
 Appendix I

Opposite the old entrance to Queen’s College in Queen’s

Lane is S. Edmund Hall, now incorporated with Queen’s.
Founded 1559 {traditionally 1226 by S. Edmund).
Chapel 1
Hall -late seventeenth century.
Library J
Trinity College (Broad Street). Founded 1555.

Remains of Durham College :—

Buttery, etc. ]
Bursary -fourteenth century.
Common Room j

First Quadrangle:—
Tower Gateway and Chapel (carving, screen and Altar-
piece, Grinling Gibbons; good modern glass.
Aldrich and Wren), E., late seventeenth century.
Library (glass), fifteenth century.
Hall (on site of Durham College Refectory), 1620,
interior, eighteenth century.
Garden Quadrangle (Wren), seventeenth century, S. side
eighteenth century.
Garden and Iron Gates.
New Buildings and President’s Lodgings {T. G. Jackson ),
1883-7.
E. of Trinity College, Kettle Hall, 1615.

University College {High Street , S. side). Founded 1249.

First Quadrangle \
Tower and Gateway [seventeenth century Gothic, refronted
Hall j 1800.
Chapel J
Radcliffe Quadrangle, eighteenth century (1719).
New Buildings, W. facing the High Street (Sir Charles
Barry), 1842.
Library {Sir G. Scott), 1861.
Master’s Lodge (Bodley), 1879.
New Buildings on opposite side of Logic Lane {Wilkinson
Moore), 1896, etc.

The Shelley Memorial is in the garden, E. of entrance.

Tht very beautiful recumbent Statue of the drowned poet is
by Onslow Ford.
416
 Appendix /

Wadham College {Park Street) Founded 1613,

Front Quadrangle:
Hall.
Chapel (interior 1834. Fine Perpendicular A
Choir. East window, Bernard Far. i
Linve, 1621') r 16 I j.
Library" > |
Back Quadrangle, eighteenth century
Garden..

Worcester College (Beaumont Sireef)„ Founded 17*4,

Remains of Gloucester Hall. etc. fizS'’'''
S. side of Quadrangle:—
Chapel i
Hall l late eighteenth century.
Library j
Garaerrs.

Mansfield College {Mansfield Bond). Transferred from

Birmingham to Oxford, ,886. Erected by the Con-
gregational Churches for the study of theoW bv
graduate students. * °* s
Entrance Gateway \
Library * I
Principal’s House [ Basil Champneys, 18S9.

Common Room f

Manchester College (Mansfield Road, The Manchester

Academy dedicated ;i To Troth, to Libertv, to Religion.*’
was transferred from Manchester to London, 1853, and
from London to Oxford, 1889. Intended for the theo¬
logical training of graduate students.
Entrance Tower and Gateway
Chapel {Burne-Jones Glass) ! (Messrs Worthington)
Library (gift of Henry Tate) i 1893 and 1914.
Lecture rooms, etc. ' J

Somerville Hall {Woodstock Road], Opened 1879.

Styled Somerville College, 1894.
Occupies the site of the old Manor House of Walton,
happily adapted and enlarged by Sir T. Jackson (1SS1).
Additions by H. C. Moore (1S86} ; Basil Champneys (1904L
and Edmund Fisher (S. building and Hall) 191c.
 Appendix II

T adv Margaret Hall {Norkam Gardens). Founded 1S79.

Wordsworth Building;, 1896 (Basil Champneys: additions
by Sir Reginald Biomfield. 1925).
e Hu2*h’s Hall (.Norkam Gardens). Founded 1886, by Miss
Wordsworth. Moved to St Margaret’s Road and styled
S. Hugh’s College {Badland), 1916.
s.. Hilda’s Hall {Cowley Place). Founded by Miss Beale,
^ 93-
Society of Oxford Home (Women) Students {Jaivett
Walk).

Ruskin College. See p. 405 11.

St Peter’s College. {Ketv Inn Hall Street.) Founded 1896.

APPENDIX II

The Bodleian—University Galleries— I he Schools

The New Examination Schools {High Street) {T. G.Jack-

son, 1882. Open 9-4. Fee ?d.). /the interior is very
richly decorated. Portraits ol English Composeis.

The Bodleian Library,

Duke Humphrey’s Library (over the Divinity School)
fifteenth century.
East Wing, 1610.
West Wing (over Laud’s Convocation House ), 1634.
Bodleian Picture Gallery (third storey of the old Ex¬
amination Schools), 1613.
Radcliffe Library (Camera), used as a Reading Room and to
store modern books, 1749 {Gibbs), Open 10-10. Preeio
parties accompanied by Members of the University in Academical
dress. Bodley is open 9-3 (November-January), 9-4
(February-March, August-October), 9-5 (April-July).
To use the Library an introduction to the Librarian
by some Master of Arts is required.
1 Electric light has been installed in “■ Bodley,” and part
of the long picture gallery converted into a reading-room
(1930). A11 extension into Broad Street, connected by a
subway, was begun in 1929.
418
Appendix II

Fee id. for visitors not accompanied by Members of the

University in Academical cap and gown.
Among the treasures of Bodley are :_
The Epistles of Pliny (Duke Humphrey’s Autograph).
Romance of Alexander. French Illustrated MS. Gift
of Sir Thomas Bod!ey.
Bodley's Register of Benefactors.
An Exercise Book and a Translation of “ De Christo ,J
of Queen Elizabeth.
The Gospel Book of Queen Margaret of Scotland.
Shakespeare’s signed copy of Ovid.
Caxton’s Histories of Troye (Selden Bequest): the
first book printed in English (1474).
Codex Laudianus (Acts of the Apostles), among; the
gifts of Archbishop Laud.
Milton’s presentation, copy of his Poems, with an
autograph Latin Ode.
Shelley relicsMS. of Prometheus "Unbound. Copy of
Sophocles found on his drowned body.
Samuel Daniel’s Presentation copy of his Poems (1601).
Edmund Spenser’s *'£ Howleglas.”

Bodleian Picture Gallsiy : {Entrance same as to the Library).

Open {Fee 3d.'.) Summer 9-6.
December 9-4.
January 9-5.
There is no official catalogue; the pictures are labelled
and liable to re-arrangement. Many are worthless copies
and many are so hung as to be practically invisible. Atten¬
tion may be drawn to the following, chiefly as illustrations
of the story of Oxford—(begin on the right).
"* William of Waynefleet.
* Cardinal Wolsey.
* Sir Thomas More.
* Erasmus (2).
Drake (Print).
A Chair made out of the Golden Hind, the ship in which
Drake sailed round the world. An inscription by
Abraham Cowley.
In the centre of the room is a Bust of Sir Thomas Bodley
and his Strong Box.
* Edward VII. in Academical dress.
Queen Adelaide {Sir David Wilkie).
2 D 2 4I9
 Appendix II

* William Camden, author of Britannia, 1586 (Marcus

Gheeraerts the Younger)
* Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury. Burnt at
Oxford, 1556.
* Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, 1588.
Mrs Williams (wife of Shelley’s friend).
Drawing of E. A. Silsbee of Salem, Mass., who presented
Shelley’s guitar to the Gallery, d. 1900 (J. S. Sargent),
* Thomas Allen, Mathematician and Antiquary, 1632.
Hugo Grotius, 1645 (Rembrandt).
* John Selden, Scholar and Benefactor, d. 1654.
* John Locke, Philosopher, 1690 (Thomas Gibson).
Sir Hans Sloa'ne, Physician and Collector, d. 1753 (Jonathan
Richards on , the Elder), ,
James Stewart, The Pretender.
Maria Clementina, wife of the Pretender.
John Wills, D.D., Warden of Wadham College 1783 (Lewis
Kas let).
James Wallis, Mathematician, 1703 (Sir Godfrey Kneller).
Queen Mary II. (Sir Godfrey Kneller).
John Osilby, Surveyor, d. 1676 (Sir Peter Lely),
Sir Thomas Overbury, Poet, poisoned in the Tower, 1613
(Cornelius van Ceulen).
Sir Martin Frobisher, Navigator, d. 1594 (Cornells Ketel).
* John Fox, Historian, d. 1587.
Sir Francis Walsingham, Secretary of State, 1573 (Sir A.
Mar).
Martin Luther, d. 1546.
Margaret Clifford, Countess of Cumberland, d. 1616.
Robert Plot, First Keeper of the Ashmolean, d. 1696.
Isaac Casaubon, 1614.
* William Cecil, Lord Burleigh, riding on an ass.
* John Hough, President of Magdalen 1688, Bishop ol
Winchester.
Nicholas Harpesfeld, First Regius Professor of Greek, 1546
* Richard Allestree, D.D., 1680.
Some Astronomers, including -
John Flamsteed, 1719 (Thomas Gibson).
James Bradley, 1729 (Thomas Hudson).
Flora Macdonald, who assisted Prince Charles Edward
Stuart to escape in Skye, 1746 (Allan Ramsay).
* Charles 1.
Queen Henrietta Maria.
* Charles II. (as a boy).
* Henry Frederick, Prince of Wales, 1612 (Isaac Oliver),
420
Appendix II

* James I.
Matthew Prior, Poet and Diplomatist. 1731 (Jonathan
Richardson, the Elder'),
* Joseph Addison, Poet, Essayist and Secretary of State
(Sir Godfrey Kneller),
(This portrait is hung in the “Poet’s Corner” of the
Gallery, which includes Dryden, Pope, Ben Jonson, etc ).
Mary Queen of Scots.
George Frederick Handel, Composer.
* John Radcliffe.
Nathaniel, Baron Crewe, Benefactor, d. 1721 (Sir Godfrey
(Kneller),
* Sir Thomas Pope.
* Queen Elizabeth (Federho ZuccaroX
* Henry VIII.
* Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, Lord Chancellor, 1658
(.History of the Rebellion), (Sir Peter Lely).
* Archbishop Laud, Benefactor (Copy from' Sir Anthony Kan
Dyck),
The immense Hops Collection of Engraved Portraits (over
20,000) and the Sutherland Collection are lodged in the Old
School of Natural Philosophy. Open free 11-1 and 2-4.
Saturday, ll-i.

The Sheldonlan Theatre (Broad Street). Entrance,

side door.
The scene of the Commemoration Ceremonies in the summer
and of the conferring of degrees. Built by Sir Christopher
Wren, 1663-9, at t^ie expense of Archbishop Sheldon. (Fee
3d. : 10-4; 10-6 Summer).
Portraits:—Archbishop Sheldon.
Lord Crewe, Bishop of Durham, 1825 (Founder of the
Crewe Orations).
James, Duke of Ormond, 1669.
Sir Christopher Wren, Architect, 1669, (Sir Godfrey
Kneller, Sir James Thornhill, Antonio Verrie).
Ceiling painted by Streeter, Court Painter to Charles 1.
(Restored.)

University Galleries (Beaumont Street), (Cockerell, 1845.)

{Open 11-4. Fee 3d. Saturdays Free.) Contains inter alia :—
The Ashmolean Museum.
The Arundel Marbles.
421
 Appendix II

Collections of Antiquities: including Donations of Mr

Flinders Petrie, and specimens of Renaissance Art
gift of Mr C. D. E. Fortnum. 5
Here, too, will be found, King Alfred’s Jewel: and Guy
Fawkes’ Lantern, formerly housed in the Bodleian
Picture Gallery (First Floor).
The Portraits include: —
An Assembly of Artists bv William Hogarth.
Earl and Countess of Pomfret, donor of the Arundelian
Statues 1755 (Thomas Bardwell).
David Garrick, 1764 (Pampeo Battani)
Joseph Warton, d. 1800 (Sir Joshua Reynolds),
Queen Mary.
Robert Walter, 1648 (by himself).
Original Etchings and Drawings:
By-
Michel Angelo and RafFaello.
Albert Durer.
Rembrandt.
Van Dyck.
Turner.
The Turner Collection, gift of John Ruskin.
Collection of Miniatures (Bentinck Hawkins).
Combe Bequest of works by the Pre-Raphaelite School.
A (Provisional) Catalogue for use (free) in the Galleries can be
obtained on the upper foors.

Ashmolean B/Euseilin (University Galleries^ Beaumont Street),

The story of the University Museum is a curious one. In
the reign of Charles I., John Tradescant, the Barnum of the
period, founded at South Lambeth a popular show known
as “ Tradescant’s Ark.” It was the earliest Museum of
Curiosities in England. The founder, whose portrait hangs
in the Ashmolean Gallery, had travelled in Russia and
fought against the Algerian corsairs. He was the first
gardener at the Oxford Botanic Garden. His son, John the
Younger, inherited the Ark, and added to the collection
notably shells and plants from Virginia. He and his second
wife agreed that, upon the death of the survivor of them,
the Ark should become the property of Elias Ashmole, who
had been an inmate of their house. He tried, however
to alter this arrangement by will. The will was upset:
Mrs Tradescant was found drowned in the pond of her
garden ; Elias Ashmole inherited, and made over the Museum
422
 Appendix 11
together with his own collection of pictures, coins, etc., to
the University of Oxford in 1683. In accordance with his
stipulations, the Ashmolean building was erected to contain
this famous collection, which filled twelve carts when sent
down from London.1 [Summary Catalogue, as. 6d.).
The specimens of Natural History have since been
separated from the works of Art: the latter are to be seen
m the University galleries, the former have been lodo-ed In
..the University Science Museum (Paris Ready (Dean, ana *Waod-
v.iW, i860). Open free 2-4. This includes'the Pitt Rivers
Anthropological Museum, which is intended for the illustra¬
tion and study of Nature in her various departments. Ad¬
joining this building is the Library given by the Drapers
Company to the University (T. G. Jackson).

Ashmolean Collection. Portraits :_

Staircase and Lobby :—

Thomas Parr (at the age of 152), d. 1635.

John Tradescant. Established a Museum and Physic
Garden at Lambeth. First gardener of the Botanic
Garden, Oxford, 1632.
John Tradescant the Younger, and his friend Zythepsa
of Lambeth, who bequeathed his Museum to Elias
Ashmole, d. 1662.
John TradescSnt ( ? Wiliam Dobson).
Hester and John Tradescant, 2nd wife and son of
above, d. 1678.
Hester, Frances, and John Tradescant.
Elias Ash mole.
Robert Plot, First Keeper of the Ashmolean Museum,
1683.
Nicholas Fiske, Astrologer, d. 1659 (? Cornelius Neve).
John Lowin, Shakespearian Actor, 1623.
Oliver de Critz (by himself0.).
? Inigo Jones.
Oueen Elizabeth Woodville, d. 1692.
John Dee. Astrologer, Warden of Manchester College.
*595*
C. D. E. Fortnum, £{ the Second Founder of the
Ashmolean.”
Taylor Institution (Beaumont Street, Cockerell, 1845),
forming the west wing of the University galleries.
Founded by Sir Robert Taylor for the study of
modern languages,
1 By the Sheldonian Theatre (Wood Architect'. Now
houses Mr Lewis Evans’ historical collection of scientific
instruments.
 Appendix III
APPENDIX. Ill
A L*nk with Shakespeare

John Davenant, vintner, host of William Shakespeare

(see p. 26), occupied No. 3 Cornmarket Street between the
years 1592 and 1614. This house, now the property of the
city, is leased by Messrs. Hookham, tailors. A member of
this firm, Mr. E. YV. Attwood, recently discovered, by
stripping off layers of canvas and wall-papers, that the walls
of one of the rooms were covered with beautiful black and
white decorations and panelling of the sixteenth century.
This room may well have been the Guest Chamber in which
Shakespeare slept, and the old fourteenth-century winding
staircase leading to it, the steps he trod on his wav to the
land of dreams. The background of the decorations is
stained with the rich ochre of Headington; the interlacing
pattern of the design is filled with roses, Canterbury bells,
and other flowers. On panels above it are inscribed rhyming
texts, a common feature of the period. One can decipher
. And last of thi rest]be thou gods servant |for that
hold i best. In the morning early (serve god devoutlye. |
Feare god above allthvnge | and [honour?) the Kynge.”
Over the old brick fire-place are the letters I.H.S., an
earlier monogram (? 1450). (Admittance is. for non-resident
visitors.)
 INDEX
Abelard, Peter, 76; Peter Loin- j Bible, the. Authorised Version,
bard pupil of, 76. j 349; Bamberg, 276; Mazarin,
Abingdon, 24, 25, 44-6, 107, 119; ! 274; movable type used for, 276.
toll of herrings paid to moaas- | Black A ssizes, the, 28S.
ten’, 29; and see Charles I. i Black Death,, the, causes of, 28S;
Act of Supremacy, 306, 329. effect on learning, 242, 290; out¬
Addison, Joseph, demy of Mag¬ breaks of, 241, 252; provisions
dalen, 369, 399. against in statutes of Corpus
/Ethelred, the Unready, rebuilding Christi, 286; regulations con¬
of S. Frideswide by, 11-22. cerning, 2S9.
Agnellus of Pisa builds school cf Blue Boar, old inn known as, 125.
Grey Friars, 112. Bomrdo, old gate-house used as
Aldrich, Dean, 54 (note). prison, 34, and passim-; prisoners
Alfred, King, as founder of Uni¬ i in, old cry of, 320.
versity, 71, 72; relics of, 96. i Bodlev, Sir., architect, 93 (note),
Allen, Dr. Thomas (astrologer), j 225' 227.
115. j Bodley, Thomas, founder of library,
Arthur, Prince, at Oxford, 266; 339-43, 346 (note).
record of, at Magdalen,_266. Bodleian Library, formation oi,
Ashmolean, 124, 304^ building of, 260, 339-41; visit of James I. to,
for collection of Elias Ashmole, 343; of Charles 1. and Falkland,
. 387, 422- 343; some rare books and trea¬
sures in, 344; building, and
Bacon, Roger, 113-16: Opus Majus, I description of, 345: extension
etc., of, 114. of, by Laud, 332; preservation
Balliol, Sir John de, founds Balliol of from injury by Fairfax, 373,
Hall, 145; .his widow endows 41S ft
scholars, 146. Botanic Gardens, formation of, 352.
Bancroft, Archbishop, Chancellor, Botany Bay, gardens known as, 12 2.
prohibits long hair, and institutes Brasenose' Hall purchased by
other reforms, 347. I University, 91; see 232.
Barbers, regulations concerning, j Brazen Nose Knocker, carried to
64. | - Stamford, and brought back to
Barnes, Joseph, new press at i Oxford, 232.
Oxford set up by, 277. | Brethren of the Holy Trinity,
Barons, the, struggle with King settlement of, in Oxford, 119.
and effect on University, 237. Broad Walk, origin of the name, 22.
Basset, Alan, first to endow an Brorne, Adam de, founder of hah,
Oxford scholarship, 90. afterwards King’s Hall, and
Battle of the Books, 54 (note). Oriel .College, 142; chapel of,
Beaumont, Palace of, 61, 69, 70; 177, 1S1.
grant of, to Carmelite Friars, Burne-Jones, E., works of, at
116; use of, for S. John’s, 353. Oxf ord, 9, 10, 407.
-Fields, 213, 236. Burton, R., “Anatomy of Melan¬
Bedford Hall (Charleton’s Inn), choly,” 20.
bought for site of All Souls’, 257. Bury, 'Richard .de, founder of first
Benedictines, the, 119-22. public library at Oxford, 121;

1 425
 General Index
college proposed by,V* 3
Butteaeld, architect, ^i, I48>

(tmd Calvinists), 3n, „5;

Campion, Edmund, poet, 32s
CanMch, origin of name 3I '
Canterbury, school at 77 25.i&*£ssu:
251 Tower at, 26,
171; conduit at, 65, 66
Castle, the, 27, 36 ■?*’ a*, a
Castle milt 41! ■ 4<5’ 47‘ 6a
CAtTHPRAL’ Tiie, S—22, 3oS- Chan-
ChtpeUr8°iiISV3?6 (n’0te)’; l!!oPv
in m ■ V,r 6,o6,3; mo™mems
d 66(^7^X)’ 25-S0,
19,. Latin Chapel, o 10.
restoration of, r4; s£ir’e 9f 3» 46. I*
.S Lucy’s Chapel, 15 ’
Catholic reaction, the, 31* “cal’ W^.^3,*
colleges due to, 322 3 5> °27’ architecture of' ,£ X2’ 35?;
Cat Street, 257 (notch’ torical incidents d,'~7V Jl'f
Caxton, press of, 276.
hn1’ 3SV porch of> 35^’ -Ir"-
Champeaux, William of, 76. borrowed by Uni versitv for'^r’
Chtmcelior,jurisdiction of, 85, i90, mons, etc iSr • or ser"
i92~4; office of, made permanent
and non-resident, r96. 1 31
__’ c‘ p1<dloIas , 4T, 106.
of, 19^4 0f- l86^°'' Jurisdiction

j«?
abi 4 Lterd,f%Pt,0sf.-Znn
Porch, etc., of, 4&7, 4fa’ Cancel,

aaOxforf°Tr°f,s353:c°ur‘of' C'ist e rci a n tMf;Mdc1 s ^ r-"^ -l * founds f1 ’

Oxford*’ 364<- 365; returns to for, by Chichele, r^’ foundatl°n
?6of ^’n369;/ntlCaI P°si«on of,
309, D70; refuses to surrender Clarendon Press, thef^G
®scapes frora Oxford, 37/ Cobharn, ihornas, ‘ BishoD nf
3/4; defeated at Newburv • g:2?T-. “iarsernent Sf S
Oxford ordered to surrender by,’ Maiyb designed bv, 187. honC;
?S7Pad^ll0rfun®>«Pen^ '
beu;eenSPSriclC*Cdmi^
versify, i8- and llle
fle
Uni-
CZtef “Ck:'a‘ Oxford, 99, j6s
Colleges and Halls_

Chichele,’ AflhbfehoT 5,9, 1 °*$ 91'

f&v Appendix L]
’ f?UrifLition of, *36
founded "3 :C0Ueges
law’ andiaSrCal aspect of, 256,!
bti^neS> nu™ber of, in D’Oigli’s
studied at 4*7 if sp,e(#y
IfaSy f; ,o”d?aSe °f’ un*r
—_ I?, I'-.5?: disappeared, ,0.
norrnnal founder of -urs.
63:^6? '44'5I'5i(note),
j S. .-Mdate’s, 4.0. 2ite^tc°f’,S?:FCS<Jt5o8‘“-
, S, Clement, 51,
cu|t°“yn7dm'issi°n of™o; °U
, S. Cross, 51. Baikal, foundation IS 4'
426 regulations «SE&£&
General Index

at, 147; fellowships at, 147; exec- ' Magdalen fS. Mary’Magdalen),
tion of buildings in XVth cen- j foundation of, 128, 262; statutes
turv, 14S; present chapel of, 14S; i of, based on those of New College,
manuscripts brought by William < 263; recognition of non-founda¬
Grey from Italy,” 27S;* statutes | tioners by, 221; “pcore scholars”
of, rewised by Bishop Foxe, 147. i at, 222; foundation stone laid in
Brasenose Hall, purchase of, | 1474, 262; old trees in “Grove”
91; conversion of into college, i at, 263; buildings of, 222-S, 263;
232; ^famous knocker of, 232; ! Founder's Tower, 263; visit of
foundation stone of college laid ; Edward IV. to, 204; of Richard
in 1509, 232; chapel or, 232. 34.3. ' 1IL, 264; of Henry VII., 265; old
Christ Church, 143; foundation ! tapestry’ at, 266; Wolsey’s share
of, by Wolsey, 296: funds tor, i in design of tower of, 269; obit
procured by suppression of n-li- : for Henry7 VII. kept by, 269;
gious houses, 297; foundation ! ceremony* on May” Day, 270;
stone laid in 1525, 29R; buildings ’• school of, 313; refusal to accept
of, 299; migration of Cambridge , President chosen by James II.,
students to, 299; introduction by ; 395; restoration of ejected
same of Lutheran tenets, 300’; i fellows, 397; buildings for com¬
effect of Wolsey’s fall upon, 306; 1 moners at, known ns S.Swithun’s,
opposition to* King’s divorce, ; 226, 227; Magdalen Tower,
307; answer of King to petition I beauty of, 271; Magdalena
concerning, 307; later founda- I Ridens, 398.
tion of, 30S; court established i Merton, foundation of, 133,
at, by Charles I., 364; residence i 137; statutes of, 133, 134;
of Charles II. at, 3S7; bells of, i regulations of, 134; “secondary7
54; ami see 152 (note). ! scnohrs” of, 135; revision o’f
Corpus Christi, first of the j statutes of, by Walter de Merton,
Renaissance Colleges, 2S3; i 135; old bull lings of, 137;
foundation of, by Richard Foxe, j chapel, 138; quadrangles, 139;
147, 283; statutes at, 284; pro- 1 mediaeval library of, 239; valu¬
visions for teaching the New \ able books, etc., possessed by,
Learning, 285; curious sundial 140; Mob Quad, 140; “‘salting*”
at, 2S6; sculpture over gateway, old custom of, 204; court held at
286; connection with Magdalen, by Henrietta Maria, 366; resi¬
286. dence of Charles II.’s queen at,
Exeter, foundation of, 141; I 35“.. .
statutes of, based on those of Seu\ foundation of, 250-2;
Merton, 142; refounding of in. ; provisions of, by William- of
1566, 141; modem buildings of, Wykeham, 253; plan of build¬
141; tapes trv at, 407. ings of, 254; chapel windows of,
Hertford (Hart Hall}, 406. 255, 256; ecclesiastical aspect of,
Jesus, first Protestant college, 256; cloisters of, converted into
foundation of, by Hugh Rees in powder magazine, 363.
is?1? 339; Elizabeth nominal Oriel, .125-7; foundation of,
foundress of, 339; statutes of, 142; buddings purchased for,
339* 142; retourtded in 1326, 142;
Keble, 406. first chapel of, built by Arch¬
King's Hall, 142. bishop Arundel, 160; dispute
Lincoln, foundation of, 166; math University, 1S2.
building of, as planned by Pembroke, 50.
Bishop Fleming and finished by j Queen's, foundation of, by
John Forest, 167; remodelling of j Robert Eglesfield, 249; statutes
foundation, 16S; famous sermon ! of, 249; ecclesiastical character
on behalf of, 169; valuable book | of, 249; fellowships at, restric¬
brought by Robert Fleming j tion of, 249; “Boar’s Head”
from Italy, 2 78. J dinner at, 23, 250; quadrangle

427
 General Index
of, 250; carvings by Grinling
Gibbons, 250; see 272, 3S7. 1 nniversiiy library first
lodged there, 182; description of
Ruskin Hall, 405 (note).
scene m, at the appointment of
S. Edmund Hall, chapel and
new guardians of “chests,” iSj
library of, built by Pen ton in
Convocation, or Great Congrega¬
1680, 391; old garden of,.391.
tion, held in chancel of S. Mary’s
5. John Baptist, foundation of,
Js4; Convocation House!
by Sir Thomas White, on site of built by Laud, 352.
old college of S. Bernard, 123, Commarket Street, 66, o0I
328; munificence of Laud to, Crafts and Guilds, 63.
32S; buildings by Laud, 328;
Cramner, Thomas, Archbishop of
loyalty of, to King, 353; precious
Canterbury, imprisonment and
relic preserved at, 353; colon¬
niartyrdo.a of, 316-26; portrait
nades of, 328; gardens of, 328. of, m Bodleian, 326
Mary's, Erasmus at, 280; Cromwell Thomas, Vicar-genera!
dissolution of, and conversion of of England, 306.
buildings to other purposes, in Cromwell, Oliver, appearance of
154b 280; remains of ancient near Oxford, 373; surrender of
building of, 280; present house
Cavaliers at Bletchington Plouse
on site of, 2 So.
to, 373; visit of to Oxford, to
Trinity, foundation of, by Sir
watch progress of Reformation
Thomas Pope, in 1555, 327; 381; present of MSS. from, as
statutes of, 327; reconstruction Chancellor, 381.
by Wren_ in 1665, 327; chapel,
Crown Inn, old, Shakespeare at, 26.
carvings in, 328; new buildings
by Jackson,328; and sen 21, 3S7. Danes, massacre of, 11; ravages
University, early University of, 12, 27.
endowment, 87; story of law¬ Davenant, John, 26.
suit, 88; French petition forged,
, Sir William, Shakespeare
88; real founder of, 90; tene¬ sponsor to, 26.
ments acquired by, Droglrda Divinity, decline in study of, after
Hall, etc., 91; incorporation of the Restoration, 385.
in 12S0, 91; statutes of, 91, 92; Divinity School and Library-
removal to present site in 1332,
erection of 259, 345; gifts to!
93; extension of, 93, 95 (note); from Cardinal Beaufort and
chapel of, 94; bequest of Dr.
Thomas Kempe, Bishop of
Radcliffe to, 95; hall and library
London, 259, 260; Parliament
of, 95; and see Walker.
sitting at, 365; Star Chamber
Wadham, foundation of, by at, 3S8.
Nicholas Wadham, in 1609, 348- DTvry, Roger, 22 (note), 35, 46.
architecture of, 348.
D’Oigli, Robert, remains of castle
Women’s Halls, -266.
of, 27; possession of Oxford by,
Worcester, Gloucester Hall 30; fortifications restored by,
afterwards S. John Baptist Hall 32; Castle of Oxford built by, in
refounded as, in 1714, i2i; hall,
1071, 36; S. Michael’s Tower
library, chapel of, 121; gardens built by, 43; story- of conversion
of, 121; and see 119, 143.
of, 45; churches built by, 46;
Colleges and chantries made over landmarks left of time of, 51;
to the King by Parliament, 310. death of, and successor, 51, 22
Common Rooms, 393. (note).
Commons and battels, explanation -, mphiw of above, story of
of the terms, 202. wife of, 52.
Commoners, meaning of the term, Drogheda Hall, 91.
221; increase in number of, 222 * Drunkenness, rise of, 347; increase
system of, first definitely recog¬ of, measure against, 347.
nised, 221.
Dudley, Robert, Earl of Leicester,
Congregation Plouse, old, 178, reforms by, 332-4.
428
General Index

Duns Scotus (Dunses, “Dunce”), j collegiolum, beginning of Lincoln

^ x49j 310. ! College, in 1427 by, 166.
Duppa, Dean, 14; Cathedral glass ; Folly Bridge (Welcome’s Folly),
destroyed by, 10. origin of name, 116; built in
Durham Hall, 121; dissolution of, place of Grand Pont, 24.
Foxe, Richard, Bishop of Win¬
Durham Monastery, students sent chester, founder of Corpus Christi
^ to Oxford from,'122. College, 2S3; provision for teach¬
Duval (highwayman), execution ing the New Learning made bv,
of, at Oxford, 404. 2S4-6.

Edmund, Kong, death of, at j

' 1
Friar?, coming of the, 105; old and
new, opposition between, 109;
Oxford, 29. | attempt to gain control of Uni¬
-, Earl of Cornwall, Abbev of I versity, 129; bitter controversy
regulars founded by, 22 {note), \ with the University, 130; “wax-
doctors,” 131; traces of, in
^ I23- ' I
Edward II., share of Oxford in j modern Oxford, 143; political
deposition of, 241. partisanship of, 149; pride and
Edward IV., visit to Magdalen, j luxury of, 150.
264. -3, Austin, settlement of, 11S;
Eglesfteld, Robert, chaplain of disputations in grammar and
Queen Philippa, foundation of philosophy, 11S; meeting of
Queen’s by, 249; symbolism per¬ Bachelors, long known as
vading his ordinances, 249, 250. “Austins,” 118.
Elizabeth, Queen, accession of, -, Black (Dominican), lands and
329; ^needlework of, now in ' buildings of, rod, 119; and see
Bodleian, 329; deputation from j Mad Parliament.
University to, 330; reception of, | -, Carmelite (White), Palace of
at Oxford, 330, 331; leave-taking j Beaumont acquired’ by, 1x6;
of, 332; second visit to Oxford, dissolution .of, in 1539, nS;
336; speech bv, 336; departure library and church of, 128;
traces of, xi8.
_ of> 339.
Erasmus, visit of to Oxford, 279: -, Crossed (or Cruched), 119.
reception of, 2So; description of -, Grey (Franciscan), 107; land
Oxford and scholars by, 280, acquired by, 109, nx; first school
• 281; works of, 281; application of at Oxford, 112; libraries of,
of new method of study, 281. 113; Franciscan scholars, 113.
Essex, advance upon Oxford, 367; j -, Penitentiarian, 11S; called
occupation of Abingdon by, 367; Brothers of the Sack, 1x9; sup¬
defeat at Gosworth Bridge, 371”; pression of, and acquirement of
defeat in Cornwall, 372. their lands bv the Franciscans,
119-

Faculty of Arts, meaning of the j Garret, Thomas, Lutheran, escape

term, 76 (note). and arrest of, 300-3.
Fairfax, Sir Thomas, investment of Gibbon, Edward, historian,
Oxford by, 373; withdrawal of, “gentleman commoner” at
374; renewal of siege by, 374; Magdalen, 225.
camp of, 375; surrender of Gibbons, Grinling, carvings by, in
Oxford to, 375; visit to Oxford Queen’s library, 250; in Trinity
to watch progress of Reforma¬ chapel, 328.
tion, 381. Gibbs, James, architect, 96.
Fell, Dean, 22, 358; quarrels of with C-iraldus Cambrensis, visit to
Anthony Wood, 377; imprison¬ Oxford of, 82; account of same
ment of, 379; Vice-Chancellor by, 79, S3.
and Bishop of Oxford, 379 (note). Gloucester Hall, history of, ng;
Fleming, Bishop, foundation of a and see Worcester College.

4.29
 General Index

Godstow village, and remains of Henry III., 125; converted later

nunnery of, 61, 62. into Blue Boar, 125; site now
Greek, introduction of study of occupied by modern Town Hall,
into England, 278; abolition of 125.
.compulsory, 266 (note). Houses, built of stone by Jews,
Greeks and Trojans, Old and New 200; rebuilt after fire in 1190,
Learning, 2S2. 200; Wood’s description of, 200,
Grey, William, manuscripts 201; names of, according to
brought from Italy by, 278. structure, 200.
Grossetete, Robert, 106; lectures Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester,
of, at school of Grey Friars, 112. acquisition by University of
Guarino of Verona, pupils of, from library of, 259; death of, 261;
Oxford, 27S. delay in completion of library
Gunpowder Plot, the, 348. building, 261; three books of,
now in Bodleian, 339.
Halls, origin of old names of, 200; Hyde, Edward, Earl of Clarendon,
principal and government of, historian of the Great Rebellion,
202; see a Iso Houses, Hostels, and, 375; “Clarendon” Press, 376.
232, 271.
Harold, death of, at Oxford, 30. Tffley, 37.
Hawksmoor, Nicholas, architect, Inns, old, 26, 65, 66 (note), 201,
250, 258, 376, 387- 356, 361, 385.
Hebdomadal Board, 351. Irishmen, encounter with North¬
Henry Beauclerk, building at erners, 229; exemption of Irish
Beaumont and Woodstock, 61 students from statute of 1413,
Henry II., 60, 61, 62; quarrel with 229; petition concerning, 229.
Becket, 80; encouragement to
literary culture given by, 81. Jackson, T. G,, architect, 167,
Henry III., support given to by 328.
Oxford Dominicans, 236; struggle James I., visit to Bodleian, and
with the Barons, 237. gift to library, 343; visit to
Henry V., ordinances of in 1420 for Oxford with Queen in 1605, 347;
academical reform, 248; as a letters patent to Universit
young man, at Queen’s College, granted by, 348; play acted
272. honour of, 354.
Henry VII., -visit to Oxford, 265; James II., endeavour of, to tre
endowment by, 265; gift of, form the University into
towards Magdalen bell tower, Roman Catholic seminary, y .
266; obit established by, for command of, to elect Preside
widow of Warwick, in 1493, 265; . of Magdalen, 395; visit to O
obit kept for, by Magdalen, 269. ford to enforce obedience, 39I
Henry VIII., call on University change of policy, and restoration
by, for decision concerning of ejected fellow's, 397.
divorce, 305; marriage of, de¬ Jewry’-, 106, 192; Jewries, great
clared void, 306; refusal to and little, boundaries of, 57;
despoil the colleges, 308. Jewry and Priory, feud between,
Hermitage of “Our Lady in the 57; culmination of, in 1268, 58.
w’all,” 128. Jew's, stone houses built by, 200;
High Street, 171, 172. Jews’ garden, 128; protection,
Holywell Manor, 31. enjoyed by Jews, 57; wealth and
Hospitals and hermitages, various, insolence of, 58; persecution and
in Oxford, 125. banishment of, 59; place of
Hostels, also entries or inns, 202. burial granted to, by Henry II.,
Hoton, Richard of, prior of Durham 60, 12S; House of Converts, 125.
Monas tcry, erection of college Johnson, Dr., 50, 53.
by, 122. Jones, Inigo, gateway of Physic
House of Converts, founded by Garden designed by, 61; also
430
General Index

Magdalen gateway, 19S, 227; j Martyr, Catherine, burial of, 16;

colonnades and garden front of treatment of body of, 19; bones,
S, John’s by, 32S; scenery of I mingled with those of S.
Interludes arranged by, 353. Frideswide, 19.
Jousts, or tourneys, reasons for Martyrs' Memorial, by Sir G.
forbidding, 233. Scott, 316-26.
JurisDrudence, revival of study of, Mary, Queen, persecution of Pro¬
in Italy, 75. testants by, 315, 327.
Master of Arts, first mention of
Ivempe, Thomas, Bishop of Lon¬ degree of, roo; origin of dress
don, gift towards completion of of, 249; see also 130.
Divinity School and" Library Matilda, Queen, besieged by
from, 2*60. Stephen, 38; escape of, from
King, Bishop, 52, 53; palace of, Oxford Castle, 41.
55? 56. ' Matriculation, possible origin of,
King's Mead, 45. 203.
! Merton, Walter de, founder of
Latimer and Ridley, martyrdom Merton College, 133 seq. ;
of, 316-22. statutes of, 133; second, in 1270,
Laud, William, Archbishop, elec¬ 134-
tion of, as Chancellor, in 1630, Mitre Inn, 66 (note), 201, 356, 392,
350; statutes of, 350; University 403.
reforms, 350, 351; popularity of, More, Thomas, 279, 2S2; execution
351; gifts, endowments, etc., of, of, 306.
352; impeachment of and resig¬ Morris, William. 10, 407.
nation. of chancellorship by, 356.
Learning, state of, during early
Naseey, battle of, 374.
Middle Ages, 274.; and see Old’,
New Learning, at Oxford, 275;
New.
Oxford students attracted to
Lewes, battle of, 240.
Italy by, 275; opposition, of Old
Library, 121, 1S2, 183, 259, 339 ft, !
Learning to, 2S2; King and
375?*4*S.
Woisey supporters of, 296.
Lina ere, Thomas, study of raedi-
Northampton, defence of, by
, cine, and foundation of College
students during Wars of the
of Physicians and Lectureships
j Barons, .240
at Merton, 278.
1 Northerners and Southerners, main
* eke, John, 3S5, 399.
division of students into, 229;
gllardism, Oxford the centre of,
I encounters between, 229, 230;
::I5S; name “Lollards,” 139;
j respective attitudes of, towards
suppression of, 159; continued
I Lollardism, 247.
p support in Oxford and final
- ' stamping out of, 159-66: expres¬
sion of, in students’ riots, 247. 1 Old Learning, revolt of, against
Lutheranism, introduction of by | Greek and Heresy, 282;. and
Cambridge students, 300; mea¬ i see 3.10.
sures taken to stamp out, 300-4. 1 Osney, Monastery of, story in con¬
nection with foundation of, "52;
Mad Parliament meets in Convent rebuilt in 1247, 52; magnificence
of Black Friars, 149, 236. of, 52; destruction of, 53; picture
Manciple, 202. of, in old. window, 53; famous
Margaret, Countess of Richmond, bells of, 54; mill at, used as
foundation of Colleges by, -266; powder factory, 22 (note), 46,
of readerships at Oxford and 363; Cat.hedra.rof, 53, 56, 308.
Cambridge, 266. Our Lady in the wall, old Hermi¬
Marsh (de Marisco), Adam, first tage known as, 128.
Franciscan to lecture in Oxford, Oxford Gazette, first appearance of,
113; effect of, 129. in 1665, 388.

4 31
 General Index

Oxford (town of), approach to, 1-5; degrees, Bachelor, etc., 75; in¬
earliest mention of, 23 (note), 27; dependence of, and sudden
charter granted to, 62; fortifica¬ growth of its reputation, 79, 84;
tion of (Henry Iiy, 32; legend¬ visit of Giraldus Cambrensis in
ary origin of, 68; merchant 1187, 79, 82; migration of
guilds and trading regulations, scholars from Paris to, 80;
63-6; early political importance quarrel with town re Ecclesiasti¬
of, 67; attainment of municipal cal Jurisdiction, and withdrawal
self-government, 67. of scholars from Oxford, 84;
-(village of), assembly at, for second migration to, by royal
Cnut’s successor, 30; death of invitation, from Paris, 86; first
Harold at, 30; early existence of, property acquired by, 91; spirit
7; first religious community at, of, opposed to Ecclesiasticism,
7; gemots held at, 28; natural 101; rise of scholastic philo¬
defences of, 27; old boundaries, sophy, 102; support of Lol-
etc., of, 23; old tower of Castle lardism by, 160; representatives
Mound of, 27, 36; old wall of of, at Council of Constance, 164;
fortification of, 30, 32; prosperity precinct of, as ' defined under
of, after Conquest, 50. Henry IV., 194; classes held to
-, Castle of, building of, 36; be “of the privilege of,” 195;
romantic episode concerning, 37. number of scholars at, 195;
-, quarrel of town of, with Uni¬ attitude of, during Barons’ War,
versity concerning jurisdiction, 239; during struggle between
and penalties imposed on, 84-6; Edward II. and Queen’s party,
insanitary condition of, in early 241; privileges secured after
times, no; streets of, in mediae¬ riot on S. Scholastica’s Day, in
val times, description of, 286-9; 1355, 245; effect upon, of law¬
riot on S. Scholastica’s Day, and lessness of students, 248; reforms
penalties incurred by citizens of, adopted by, 248; causes of de¬
246; charter of, taken from and cline in prosperity of, 252; stag¬
restored to, by Henry VIII., 310; nation in fifteenth century, 252;
reforms at, as to licensing, etc., political, time-serving of, 258;
by Laud, 351; Parliament meets gifts to, by Henry VIL, 265;
at, 355, 364, 38S; sympathies of, changes in character at close of
with Parliament, 357, 358; entry the Middle Ages, 271; grievances
into, of Parliamentary troops, from crown favour shown to,
360; evacuation of by same, 361; 293; called upon to decide for
defences at, plan of, 362; court separation from Rome, 306;
established at, 364; description learning checked by early de¬
of spectacle presented by, at this velopments of the Reformation,
time, 364; gaieties at, 365; mus¬ 305; visitation of, in 1535,
tering of Royalists at, 367; siege objects of, 310; enforcement of
of, by Fairfax, 373; surrender of, “Edwardine Statutes” at, 311;
375; terms granted to, by Fair¬ reception of Queen Elizabeth
fax, 375; Parliament convened by, 330; feuds between Roman
at, in 1681, 38S; prices of provi¬ Catholics and Calvinists, 335;
sions at, rise in, 391; riots of the letters patent from James I. to,
mob, and Jacobite gownsmen, 348; support of Absolutism by,
on birthday of George I., 400; 349; revision of statutes by
improvements under Act of 1771, Laud, 350; recovery of popu¬
404. larity of, under Laud, 352;
Oxford University (see also support of Royalist cause by,
Students), origin (possible) of, 358; defence of city undertaken
20; as given by Rous, and in by, 358; council of war formed
Historiola, 69; controversy in by, 360; proposal to lay down
time of Elizabeth, 71; Alfred arms, 360; escape of volunteers
claimed as founder of, 71; belonging to, 360; liberties and

43 2
General Index

privileges guaranteed to, by Fair- Oxford or Cambridge who be¬

fas, 375; elections suspended at, came Pope {Alexander V.), 164.
by Parliament, 377; deplorable Physic Garden, first land set apart
condition of, 377; Parliamen¬ for the study of plants, 60; trees
tary Commission to, 378; gift grown in, 60, 61, 128.
of Arundel Marbles to, 3S0; Pie-Powder Court, 20.
drunkenness and general de¬ Pillory, 190,193, 195, 235.
generacy at, 392; resistance of, Plague, the, 288; precautions
to James II.’s policy, 394; . against, 289; ravages of, in reign
depreciation of learning at, dur¬ of James I., 290.
ing reign of Toryism, 402 ; Plays, first acting of, in colleges
description of life at, 402-4; and halls, 215; performed before
beginnings of new order of things royalty, 330, 353, 354, 365; and
at, _ 405; development of, 405; see 335.
revival of spirituality at, 406; Poets Laureate, rhetoricians so
of medievalism in art, 406: styled, 290.
Tractarian movement, 406; Popery, 152, 350; inquiry by
Keble and Anglicanism, 406; Parliament, 356; under James
University Settlements, 407; II., 394-7; and see 311.
arrangement of differences Port Meadow, ancient rights still
between University and Town, surviving, 51.
407; arms of, 341. Press, the first, 276, 277, 376.
Oxford, Charter of, granted at -, the Clarendon, 376.
request of Wolsey in 1523, 292; Printing, introduction of, at Ox¬
struggle with town arising from ford, 275-7; right of printing
grant of charter, 293-5; taken Bibles, 352.
over by Henry VIII. in 1530, Proctors, first mention of, 22S;
310; restored by Mm, 310; cycle of election of, 350.
Wolsey’s charter repealed, 295; Protestantism (see also Lutheran¬
second .grant under Elizabeth ism), enforcement of, at Oxford,
and fresh disturbances, 295; under Edwardine statutes, 311,
Privy Council orders in 1575, reaction against, 315; attempt of
295* Cardinal Pole to suppress, after
Cranmer’s death, 327.
Papal Legate, arrival of, at Pugin, A. W., architect, 227.
Oxford, 236; flight of, 237. Pullen, Robert, lectures on the
Paris, University of, first home j Bible, in 1133, 78.
of scholasticism, 151; famous Puritanism, growth of, at Oxford,
scholars at, 76; development of, 346; suppression by Laud, 350;
from schools of Notre Dame, struggle of, with High Church
78; migration from, owing to party, 350; increase of, after
King’s quarrel with Becket, 80; 1641, 356.
further migration of scholars
from, 86; privileges and customs
of, 87. Radclute, Dr. John, court phy¬
Parsons, Robert, dissemination of sician, 95, 96 (note).
Romanis f literature by, 334. Radcliffe Quadrangle, Infirmary,
Peasant Revolt, 157. Observatory, and library, 96,408.
Penn, William, attempt of, at Raleigh, Six Walter, 342.
compromise between James I. Rede, William, Bishop of Chiches¬
and fellows of Magdalen, 396. ter, gift of library to Merton by,
Penniless Bench, 171 (note), 362, 239-
396. Rewley Abbey, 22 (note), 46 (note),
Person’s Gardens, 112. 123,124.
Perilous Hall bought for Oriel, Reynolds, Sir Joshua, windows by,
V 142. 256.
Phylargi, Peter, only graduate of Rhodes, Cecil, 405, 415.

433
 General Inde:
Richard III., visit of, tq Magdalen, S. George's Tower, 36.
264. S. Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, 104
Richard, Earl of Cornwall, 123. S., John (he Baptist, Hospital of
Ridley and Latimer, martyrdom 128. ’
of, 318-22. S. A licit ad's Tower, 43; military
* Robert of Cricklade, restoration of character of, 44. J
S. Frideswide by, 13. S. Thomas A Bucket, n, 80, 181
Robsart, Amy, 7; death of, 332. Say, Lord, Parliamentary Lord
Roger de Mortimer at Osney, 241. Lieutenant of Oxford, 361.
Romanism, see Popery, 'Protes¬ Scholars, demy and post-masb
tantism, Puritanism. *
Rood, Theodore, of Cologne, first Scholastic. Philosophy, methods of
Oxford press set up by,’276. 103, 104; schools of, 150; fim
Rotherham, Thomas, Chancellor of downfall of, 311; disputations
Cambridge and Archbishop of succeeded by public examina¬
York, foundation of Lincoln tions, 351.
remodelled by, 16S. Science at University after Re¬
Rous, John, old chronicler, account storation, 385; cf. 102.
of the origin of Oxford by, 69; Scoiists and Thornists, rival camps
of Woodstock, 61. of, 149; see also 312.
Royal Society, the, origin of, 386; Scott, Sir Gilbert, 14, 95, 141 256,
title conferred on by Charles Scout, 222, 225.
„ n., 3S5. Selling, William, introduction of
, Rufinus, Tyrannius, work by, study of Greek by, 278.
being the first book issued from Servitors, 207.
the Oxford Press, 276. Shakespeare, sponsor to Sir William
Rupert, Prince, daring raid of, Davcnant, 26.
367; surrender of Bristol to, Sheldonian Theatre, 386,421.
36S; defeat of, at Marston Moor, Sinmel, Lambert, 265.
372; solace of, in old age, 385. Simon de Moutfort", support h
Ruskin, John, revival of medieval¬ Oxford Franciscans of, r.p-,
ism in art by, 407; indebtedness terms of reform drawn up by,
of Oxford to, 407; influence of, 237; country in hands of, 237;
on architecture, 407. Universities espouse his cause
Ruskin Hall, 405 (note). 239; rise of, to head of the State
and order to students, 240.
S. Ai.date, origin of name, 49. Skelton, John, poet, 290; attituc’
S. Aldate’s Street, 23, 24, 55, 57, of, towards Wolsey, 291; pos,'
66. lion at court held by, 290,
S. Bartholomew, Hospital of, for Spicer's Hall, known later as
lepers, founded by Henry I., University Flail, 93.
125; ceremony at, on May Day, Stamford, migration of schr
125; relics preserved at, 126; to, 231; famous Brazen Lu. -
base use of, by Parliamentarians, Knocker carried to, 232.
127; restoration of, by Oriel Stampensis, Theobaldus, lecturer,
College, 127; remains of," 127. 78.
S. Edmund, 100, 101. Stapledon, Walter de, Bishop of
S. Frideswide, legend of, 8; relics Exeter, foundation of hall, after¬
of, 16, 19; shrine of, 9, 239, 292; wards Exeter College, by, 1 r*.
destruction of, 16; new shrine of, Stephen of Blois, election of, as
19; illustrated history of, in King, 38; Oxford besieged bv
window by Burne-Jones, 9. 38. .
-, Priory of, 12; suppressed by StillingUm, Bishop, sair
Wolsey’s agency, 297; feud with demanded of the thriven-
Jewry, 57. Henry VII., 265.
-, chest of, 59 (note). Stockivell Street (Stoke \
-, Fair of, survival of, 20. origin of name, 116.
434