beautiful britain--cambridge by gordon home [illustration: the old gateway of king's college this is now the entrance to the university library. at the end of the short street is part of the north side of king's college chapel.] contents page chapter 3 i. some comparisons 6 ii. early cambridge 15 iii. the greater colleges 35 iv. the lesser colleges 51 v. the university library, the senate house, the pitt press, and the museums 57 vi. the churches in the town 64 index list of illustrations page illustration frontispiece 1. the old gateway of king's college 17 2. the library window of st. john's college 24 3. in the choir of king's college chapel 33 4. the entrance gateway of trinity college 40 5. the gate of honour, caius college 49 6. the old court in emmanuel college 56 7. the circular norman church of the holy sepulchre on the cover 8. the "bridge of sighs," st. john's college chapter i some comparisons "..._and so at noon with sir thomas allen, and sir edward scott and lord carlingford, to the spanish ambassador's, where i dined the first time.... and here was an oxford scholar, in a doctor of laws' gowne.... and by and by he and i to talk; and the company very merry at my defending cambridge against oxford._"--pepys' _diary_ (may 5, 1669). in writing of cambridge, comparison with the great sister university seems almost inevitable, and, since it is so usual to find that oxford is regarded as pre-eminent on every count, we are tempted to make certain claims for the slightly less ancient university. these claims are an important matter if cambridge is to hold its rightful position in regard to its architecture, its setting, and its atmosphere. beginning with the last, we do not hesitate to say that there is a more generally felt atmosphere of repose, such as the mind associates with the best of our cathedral cities, in cambridge than is to be enjoyed in the bigger and busier university town. this is in part due to oxford's situation on a great artery leading from the metropolis to large centres of population in the west; while cambridge, although it grew up on a roman road of some importance, is on the verge of the wide fenlands of east anglia, and, being thus situated off the trade-ways of england, has managed to preserve more of that genial and scholarly repose we would always wish to find in the centres of learning, than has the other university. then this atmosphere is little disturbed by the modern accretions to the town. on the east side, it is true, there are new streets of dull and commonplace terraces, which one day an awakened england will wipe out; there are other elements of ugly sordidness, which the lack of a guiding and controlling authority, and the use of distressingly hideous white bricks, has made possible, but it is quite conceivable that a visitor to the town might spend a week of sight-seeing in the place without being aware of these shortcomings. this fortunate circumstance is due to the truly excellent planning of cambridge. it is not for a moment suggested that the modern growth of the place is ideal, but what is new and unsightly is so placed that it does not interfere with the old and beautiful. the real cambridge is so effectively girdled with greens and commons, and college grounds shaded with stately limes, elms, and chestnuts, that there are never any jarring backgrounds to destroy the sense of aloofness from the ugly and untidy elements of nineteenth-century individualism which are so often conspicuous at oxford. cambridge has also made better use of her river than has her sister university; she has taken it into her confidence, bridged it in a dozen places, and built her colleges so that the waters mirror some of her most beautiful buildings. further than this, in the glorious chapel henry vi. built for king's college, cambridge possesses one of the three finest perpendicular chapels in the country--a feature oxford cannot match, and in the church of the holy sepulchre cambridge boasts the earliest of the four round churches of the order of the knights templars which survive at this day. but comparisons tend to become odious, and sufficient has been said to vindicate the exquisite charm that cambridge so lavishly displays. chapter ii early cambridge roman cambridge was probably called camboritum, but this, like the majority of roman place names in england, fell into disuse, and the earliest definite reference to the town in post-roman times gives the name as grantacaestir. this occurs in bede's great _ecclesiastical history_, concluded in a.d. 731, and the incident alluded to in connection with the roman town throws a clear ray of light upon the ancient site in those unsettled times. it tells how sexburgh, the abbess of ely, needing a more permanent coffin for the remains of aetheldryth, her predecessor in office, sent some of the brothers from the monastery to find such a coffin. ely being without stone, and surrounded by waterways and marshes, they took a vessel and came in time to an abandoned city, "which, in the language of the english, is called grantacaestir; and presently, near the city walls, they found a white marble coffin, most beautifully wrought, and neatly covered with a lid of the same sort of stone." that this carved marble sarcophagus was of roman workmanship there seems no room to doubt, and professor skeat regards it as clear that this ruined town, with its walls and its roman remains, was the same place as the caer-grant mentioned by the historian, nennius. in course of time the anglo-saxon people of the district must have overcome their prejudices against living in what had been a roman city, and grantacaestir arose out of the ruins of its former greatness. in the ninth century a permanent bridge was built, and the town began to be known as grantabrycg, or, as the anglo-saxon chronicle gives it, grantebrycge. domesday toned this down to grentebrige, and that was the name of cambridge when a norman castle stood beside the grass-grown mound which is all that remains to-day of the saxon fortress. what caused the change from g to c is hard to discover, but when king john was on the throne the name was written cantebrige, and the "m" put in its appearance in the earlier half of the fifteenth century, the "t" being discarded at the same period. it seems that the name of the river was arrived at by the same process. perhaps the oddest feature of the whole of these vicissitudes in nomenclature is the similarity between the roman camboritum and cambridge, for the two names have, as has been shown, no connection whatsoever. a map of cambridgeshire, compiled by the rev. f.g. walker, showing the roman and british roads reveals instantly that the university town has a roman origin, for it stands at the junction of four roads, or rather where akeman street crossed via devana, the great roman way connecting huntingdon and colchester. two or three miles to the south, however, the eye falls on the name of a village called grantchester, and if we had no archaeology to help us, we would leap to the conclusion that here, and not at cambridge, was the ancient site mentioned by the earlier chroniclers. and this is precisely what happened. even recent writers have fallen into the same old mistake in spite of the discovery of roman remains on the site of the real roman town, and notwithstanding the fact that the two roads mentioned intersect there. the trouble arose through the alterations in spelling in the name of the village of granteceta, or, as it often appears in early writings, gransete, but now that professor skeat has given us the results of his careful tracking of the name back to 1080, when it first appears in any record, we see plainly that this village has never had a past of any importance, and that the original name means nothing more than "settlers by the granta." there is a roman camp near this village, and a few other discoveries of that period have been made there, but such finds have been made in dozens of places near cambridge. it is therefore an established fact that modern cambridge has been successively british, roman, saxon, and norman, and the original town, situated on the north-western side of the river, has extended across the water and filled the space bounded on three sides by the cam. being on the edge of the fen country, where the conqueror found the toughest opposition to his completed sovereignty in england, the patch of raised ground just outside modern cambridge was a suitable spot for the erection of a castle, and from here he conducted his operations against the english, who held out under hereward the wake on the isle of ely. in the hurried operations preceding the taking of the "camp of refuge" in 1071, there was probably only sufficient time to strengthen the earthworks and to build stockades, but soon afterwards william erected a permanent castle of stone on this marsh frontier--a building fuller describes as a "stately structure anciently the ornament of cambridge." in her scholarly work on the town, miss tuker tells us how edward iii. quarried the castle to build king's hall; how henry vi. allowed more stone to be taken for king's college chapel; and how mary in 1557 completed the wiping out of the norman fortress by granting to sir robert huddleston permission to carry away the remaining stone to build himself a house at sawston! wherever building materials are scarce such things have happened, even to the extent of utilizing the stones of stately ruins for road-making purposes. it thus comes about that the artificial mound and the earthworks on the north side of it are as bare and grass-grown as any pre-historic fort which has not at any period known a permanent edifice. owing to its fairs, and particularly to the famous stourbridge fair, an annual mart of very great if uncertain antiquity, held near the town during september, cambridge at an early date became a centre of commerce, and it had risen to be a fairly large town of some importance before the conquest. in the time of ethelred a royal mint had been established there, and it appears to have recovered rapidly after its destruction by robert curthose in 1088, for it continued to be a mint under the plantagenets, and even as late as henry vi. money was coined in the town. a bridge, as already stated, was built at cambridge in the ninth century, but in 870, and again in 1010, the danes sacked the town, and it would seem that the bridge was destroyed, for early in the twelfth century we find a reference to the ferry being definitely fixed at cambridge, and that before that time it had been "a vagrant," passengers crossing anywhere that seemed most convenient. this fixing of the ferry, and various favours bestowed by henry i., resulted in an immediate growth of prosperity, and the change was recognized by certain jews who took up their quarters in the town and were, it is interesting to hear, of such "civil carriage" that they incurred little of the spite and hatred so universally prevalent against them in the middle ages. the trade guilds of cambridge were founded before the conquest, and, becoming in course of time possessed of wealth and influence, some of them were enabled to found a college. as england settled down under the norman kings, the great abbey of ely waxed stronger and wealthier, and in the wide fen country there also grew up the abbeys of peterborough, crowland, thorney, and ramsey--all under the benedictine rules. to the proximity of these great monasteries was due the beginning of the scholastic element in cambridge, and perhaps the immense popularity of stourbridge fair, which defoe thought the greatest in europe, may have helped to locate the university there. exactly when or how the first little centre of learning was established in the town is still a matter of uncertainty, but there seems to have been some strong influence emanating from the continent in the twelfth century which encouraged the idea of establishing monastic schools. cambridge in quite early times began to be sprinkled with small colonies of canons and friars, and in these religious hostels the young monks from the surrounding abbeys were educated. mr. a.h. thompson, in his _cambridge and its colleges_, suggests that the unhealthy dampness of the fens would have made it very desirable that the less robust of the youths who were training for the cloistered life in the abbeys of east anglia should be transferred to the drier and healthier town, where the learning of france was available among the many different religious orders represented there. in 1284 the first college was founded on an academic basis. this was peterhouse. its founder was hugh de balsham, bishop of ely, who had made the experiment of grafting secular scholars among the canons of st. john's hospital, afterwards the college. finding it difficult to reconcile the difficulties which arose between secular and religious, he transferred his lay scholars, or ely clerks, to two hostels at the opposite end of the town, and at his death left 300 marks to build a hall where they could meet and dine. after this beginning there were no imitators until forty years had elapsed, but then colleges began to spring up rapidly. in 1324 michael house was founded, and following it came six more in quick succession: clare in 1326, king's hall in 1337, pembroke in 1347, gonville hall in 1348, trinity hall in 1350, and corpus christi in 1352. these constitute the first period of college-founding, separated from the succeeding by nearly a century. the second period began in 1441 with king's, and ended with st. john's in 1509. after an interval of thirty-three years the third period commenced with magdalene, and concluded with sidney sussex in 1595. a fourth group is composed of the half-dozen colleges belonging to last century. chapter iii the greater colleges st. john's.--with its three successive courts and their beautiful gateways of mellowed red brick, st. john's is very reminiscent of hampton court. both belong to the tudor period, and both have undergone restorations and have buildings of stone added in a much later and entirely different style. across the river stands the fourth court linked with the earlier buildings by the exceedingly beautiful "bridge of sighs." to learn the story of the building of st. john's is a simple matter, for the first court we enter is the earliest, and those that succeed stand in chronological order,--eliminating, of course, sir gilbert scott's chapel and the alterations of an obviously later period than the courts as a whole. to lady margaret beaufort, the foundress of the college, or, more accurately, to her executor, adviser and confessor, john fisher, bishop of rochester, who carried out her wishes, we owe the first court, with its stately gateway of red brick and stone. it was built between 1511 and 1520 on the site of st. john's hospital of black canons, suppressed as early as 1509. [illustration: the library window st. john's college from the bridge of sighs. from this spot beautiful views are obtained up and down the river.] the second court, also possessing a beautiful gate tower, was added between 1595 and 1620, the expense being mainly borne by mary cavendish, countess of shrewsbury, whose statue adorns the gateway. filling the space between the second court and the river comes the third, begun in 1623, when john williams, then lord keeper and bishop of lincoln, and afterwards archbishop of york, gave money for erecting the library whose bay window, projecting into the silent waters of the cam, takes a high place among the architectural treasures of cambridge. if anyone carries a solitary date in his head after a visit to the university it is almost sure to be 1624, the year of the building of this library, for the figures stand out boldly above the gothic window just mentioned. the remaining sides of the third court were built through the generosity of various benefactors, and then came a long pause, for it was not until after the first quarter of the nineteenth century had elapsed that the college was extended to the other side of the river. this new court came into existence, together with the delightful "bridge of sighs," between the years 1826 and 1831, when thomas rickman, an architect whose lectures and published treatises had given him a wide reputation, was entrusted with the work. the new buildings were not an artistic success, in spite of the elaborate gothic cloister, with its stupendous gateway and the imposing scale of the whole pile. their deficiencies might be masked or at least diminished if ivy were allowed to cover the unpleasing wall spaces, and perhaps if these lines are ever read by the proper authority such a simple and inexpensive but highly desirable improvement will come to pass. the stranger approaching st. john's college for the first time might be easily pardoned for mistaking the chapel for a parish church, and those familiar with the buildings cannot by any mental process feel that the aggressive bulk of sir gilbert scott's ill-conceived edifice is anything but a crude invasion. more than half a century has passed since this great chapel replaced the tudor building which had unluckily come to be regarded as inadequate, but the ponderous early decorated tower is scarcely less of an intrusion than when its masonry stood forth in all its garish whiteness against the time-worn brick of lady margaret beaufort's court. a perpendicular tower would have added a culminating and satisfying feature to the whole cluster of courts, and by this time would have been so toned down by the action of weather that it would have fallen into place as naturally as the tudor gothic of the houses of parliament has done in relation to westminster abbey. like truro cathedral, and other modern buildings imitating the early english style, the interior is more successful than the exterior; the light, subdued and enriched by passing through the stained glass of the large west window (by clayton and bell) and others of less merit, tones down the appearance of newness and gives to the masonry of 1869 a suggestion of the glamour of the middle ages. fortunately, some of the stalls with their "miserere" seats were preserved when the former chapel was taken down, and these, with an early english piscina, are now in the chancel of the modern building. the tudor gothic altar tomb of one of lady margaret's executors--hugh ashton, archdeacon of york--has also been preserved. at the same time as the chapel was rebuilt, sir gilbert scott rebuilt parts of the first and second courts. he demolished the master's lodge, added two bays to the hall in keeping with the other parts of the structure, and built a new staircase and lobby for the combination room, which is considered without a rival in cambridge or oxford. it is a long panelled room occupying all the upper floor of the north side of the second court and with its richly ornamented plaster ceiling, its long row of windows looking into the beautiful elizabethan court, its portraits of certain of the college's distinguished sons in solemn gold frames, it would be hard to find more pleasing surroundings for the leisured discussion of subjects which the fellows find in keeping with their after-dinner port. there is an inner room at one end, and continuing in the same line and opening into it, so that a gallery of great length is formed, is the splendid library, built nearly three centuries ago and unchanged in the passing of all those years. the library of st. john's is rich in examples of early printing by caxton and others whose books come under the heading of incunabula, but it would have been vastly richer in such early literature had bishop fisher's splendid collection--"the notablest library of books in all england, two long galleries full"--been allowed to come where the good prelate had intended. when he was deprived, attainted, and finally beheaded in 1535 for refusing to accept henry as supreme head of the church, his library was confiscated, and what became of it i do not know. over the high table in the hall, a long and rather narrow structure with a dim light owing to its dark panelling, hangs a portrait of lady margaret beaufort, the foundress of the college, and on either side of this pale tudor lady are paintings of archbishop williams, who built the library, and sir ralph hare. the most interesting portraits are, however, in the master's lodge, rebuilt by sir gilbert scott on a new site north of the library. [illustration] it was through no sudden or isolated emotion that lady margaret was led to found this college in 1509, the year of her death, for she had four years earlier re-established the languishing grammar college, called god's house, under the new name of christ's college, and had been a benefactress to oxford as well. on the outer gateways of both her colleges, therefore, we see the great antelopes of the beauforts supporting the arms of lady margaret, with her emblem, the daisy, forming a background. sprinkled freely over the buildings, too, are the tudor rose and the beaufort portcullis. st. john's hospital, which stood on the site of the present college, had been founded in 1135, and was suppressed in 1509, when it had shrunk to possessing two brethren only. the interest of this small foundation of black canons would have been small had it not been attached to ely, and through that connection made the basis of bishop balsham's historic experiment already mentioned. the founding of st. john's by a lady of even such distinction as the mother of henry vii. could not alone have placed the college in the position it now occupies: such a consummation could only have been brought about by the capacity and learning of those to whom has successively fallen the task of carrying out her wishes, from bishop fisher down to the present time. to mention all, or even the chief, of these rulers of the college is not possible here, and before saying farewell to the lovely old courts, we have only space to mention that among the famous students were thomas wentworth, earl of strafford, lord-lieutenant of ireland; matthew prior, the poet-statesman; william wilberforce, and william wordsworth. king's college.--henry vi. was only twenty when, in 1441, he founded king's college. in that year the pious young sovereign himself laid the foundation stone, and five years later it is believed that he performed the same ceremony in relation to the chapel, which grew to perfection so slowly that it was not until 1515 that the structure had assumed its present stately form. it was henry's plan to associate his college at eton, which he founded at the same time, with king's. the school he had established under the shadow of his palace at windsor was to be the nursery for his foundation at cambridge in the same fashion as william of wykeham had connected winchester and new college, oxford. henry's first plan was for a smaller college than the splendid foundation he afterwards began to achieve with the endowments obtained from the recently-suppressed alien monasteries. had the young king's reign been peaceful, there is little doubt that a complete college carried out on such magnificent lines as the chapel would have come into being; but henry became involved in a disastrous civil war, and his ambitious plans for a great quadrangle and cloister, three other courts, one on the opposite side of the river connected with a covered bridge and an imposing gate tower as well, never came to fruition. fortunately, henry's successor, anxious to be called the founder of the college, subscribed towards the continuance of the chapel, but he also diverted (a mild expression for robbery) a large part of henry's endowments. richard iii., in his brief reign, found time to contribute â£700 to the college, but it was not until the very end of the next reign that henry vii., in 1508, devoted the first of two sums of â£5,000 to the chapel, so that the work of finishing the building could go forward to its completion, which took place in 1515. at the present time the chapel is on the north side of the college, but when originally planned it stood on the south, for the single court which was built is now incorporated in the university library, and the existing buildings, all comparatively modern, stand in somewhat disjointed fashion to the south, and extend from king's parade down to the river. fellows' building, the isolated block running north and south between the chapel and this long perspective of bastard gothic, was designed by gibbs in the first quarter of the eighteenth century, and its severe lines, broken by an open archway in the centre, are a remarkable contrast to the graceful detail, of the chapel. framed by the great arch, there is a delicious peep of smooth lawn sloping slightly to the river, with a forest-like background beyond. in the other buildings of king's it is hard to find any interest, for the crude gothic of william wilkins, even when we remember that he designed the national gallery, st. george's hospital, and other landmarks of london, is altogether depressing. even the big hall, presided over by a portrait of sir robert walpole, is unsatisfying. it is the custom to scoff at the gateway and stone arcading wilkins afterwards threw across the fourth side of the grassy court of the college; but, although its crocketed finials are curious, and we wonder at the lack of resource which led to such a mass of unwarranted ornament, it is not aggressive, neither does it jar with the academic repose of king's parade. [illustration: in the choir of king's college chapel. this chapel and that of henry vii at westminster and st. george's at windsor, are the finest examples of the gorgeous fan tracery belonging to the last phase of english gothic architecture.] owing to the extreme uniformity of the exterior of the chapel the eye seems to take in all there is to see in one sweeping vision, refusing subconsciously to look individually at each of the twelve identical bays, each with its vast window of regularly repeated design. but there are some things it would be a pity to pass over, for to do so would be to fail to appreciate the profound skill of the mediaeval architects and craftsmen who could rear a marvellous stone roof upon walls so largely composed of glass. in this building, like its only two rivals in the world--st. george's chapel at windsor castle and henry vii.'s chapel at westminster--the wall space between the windows has shrunk to the absolute minimum; in fact, nothing is left beyond the bare width required for the buttresses, and to build those reinforcements with sufficient strength to take the thrust of a vaulted stone roof must have required consummate capacity and skill. at eton, where, however, the stone roof was never built, the buttresses planned to carry it appear so enormous that the building seems to be all buttress, but here such an impression could never for a moment be gained, for the chapel filling each bay completely masks the widest portion of the adjoining buttresses. the upper portions are so admirably proportioned that they taper up to a comparatively slight finial with the most perfect gradations. directly we enter the chapel our eyes are raised to look at the roof which necessitated that stately row of buttresses, but for a time it is hard to think of anything but the splendour of colour and detail in this vast aisleless nave, and we think of what henry's college might have been had the whole plan been carried out in keeping with this perfect work. wordsworth's familiar lines present themselves as more fitting than prose to describe this consummation of the pain and struggle of generations of workers since the dawn of gothic on english soil: tax not the royal saint with vain expense, with ill-matched aims the architect who planned- albeit labouring for a scanty band of white-robed scholars only--this immense and glorious work of fine intelligence! give all thou canst; high heaven rejects the lore of nicely-calculated less or more; so deemed the man who fashioned for the sense these lofty pillars, spread that branching roof self-poised, and scooped into ten thousand cells, where light and shade repose, where music dwells lingering--and wandering on as loth to die; like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof that they were born for immortality. when the sunlight falls athwart the great windows the tracery and the moulded stonework on either side are painted with "the soft chequerings" of rainbow hues, and the magnificent glass shows at its best all its marvellously fine detail, as well as the beauty of its colour. the whole range of twenty-six windows having been executed under two contracts, dated 1516 and 1526, there was opportunity for carrying out a great subject scheme, and thus it was found possible to illustrate practically the whole gospel story, culminating in the crucifixion in the east window, and continuing into apostolic times until the death of the virgin mary. at the west end is the one modern window. it represents the last judgement. it is safe to say that of their period this glorious set of windows has no real rival, and it is hardly possible to do them any justice if the visitor has become a little jaded with sight-seeing. in one of the windows there is a splendidly drawn three-masted ship of the period (henry viii.'s reign), high in the bow and stern, with her long-boat in the water amidships, and every detail of the rigging so clearly shown that the artist must have drawn it from a vessel in the low countries or some english port. it is one of the best representations of a ship of the period extant. this is merely an indication of the vivid archaeological interest of the glass, apart from its beauty in the wonderful setting of fan vaulting and tall, gracefully moulded shafts. the splendid oaken screen across the choir, dividing the chapel into almost equal portions, was put up in 1536, at the same time as nearly the whole of the stalls. it is rather startling to see the monogram of henry viii. and anne boleyn, entwined with true lovers' knots, on this wonderful piece of renaissance woodwork, for in 1536, the date of the screen, anne, charged with unfaithfulness, went to the scaffold. how was it, we wonder, that these initials were never removed? the screen also reminds us of the changes in architecture and religion which had swept over england between the laying of the foundation stone and the completion of the internal fittings, for, not only had the gothic order come to its greatest perfection in this building, and then its whole traditions been abandoned and a reversion to classic forms taken place, but the very religion for which the chapel had been built had been swept away by the reformation. the tudor rose and portcullis frequently repeated within and without the chapel constantly remind us of the important part henry vii. played in the creation of one of the chiefest flowers of the gothic order and the architectural triumph of cambridge. trinity college.--oxford does not possess so large a foundation as trinity college, and the spaciousness of the great court impresses the stranger as something altogether exceptional in collegiate buildings, but, like the british constitution, this largest of the colleges only assumed its present appearance after many changes, including the disruptive one brought about by henry viii. in that masterful manner of his the destroyer of monasticism, having determined to establish a new college in cambridge, dissolved not only king's hall and michael house, two of the earliest foundations, but seven small university hostels as well. the two old colleges were obliged to surrender their charters as well as their buildings; the lane separating them was closed, and then, with considerable revenues obtained from suppressed monasteries, henry proceeded to found his great college dedicated to the trinity. there is something in the broad and spacious atmosphere of the great court suggestive of the change from the narrow and cramped thought of pre-reformation times to the age when a healthy expansion of ideas was coming like a fresh breeze upon the mists which had obscured men's visions. but even as the reformation did not at once sweep away all traces of monasticism, so henry's new college retained for a considerable time certain of the buildings of the two old foundations which were afterwards demolished or rebuilt to fit in with the scheme of a great open court. thus it was not until the mastership of thomas nevile that king edward's gate tower was reconstructed in its present position west of the chapel. on this gate, beneath the somewhat disfiguring clock, is the statue of edward iii., regarded as a work of the period of edward iv. shortly before henry made such drastic changes, king's hall had been enlarged and had built itself a fine gateway of red brick with stone dressings, and this was made the chief entrance to the college. the upper part and the statue of henry viii. on the outer face were added by nevile between 1593 and 1615, but otherwise, the gateway is nearly a whole century earlier. it is interesting to read the founder's words in regard to the aims of his new college, for in them we seem to feel his wish to establish an institution capable in some measure of filling the gap caused by the suppression of so many homes of learning in england. trinity was to be established for "the development and perpetuation of religion" and for "the cultivation of wholesome study in all departments of learning, knowledge of languages, the education of youth in piety, virtue, self-restraint and knowledge; charity towards the poor, and relief of the afflicted and distressed." to the right on entering the great gateway is the chapel, a late tudor building begun by queen mary and finished by her sister elizabeth about the year 1567. the exterior is quite mediaeval, and all the internal woodwork, including the great _baldachino_ of gilded oak, the stalls and the organ screen dividing the chapel into two, dates from the beginning of the eighteenth century. in the ante-chapel the memory of some of the college's most distinguished sons is perpetuated in white marble. among them we see macaulay and newton, whose rooms were between the great gate and the chapel, tennyson, whewell--the master who built the courts bearing his name, was active in revising the college statutes, and died in 1866--newton, bacon, wordsworth and others. on the west side of the court, beginning at the northern end, we find ourselves in front of the lodge, which is the residence of the master of the college. the public are unable to see the fine interior with its beautiful diningand drawing-rooms and the interesting collection of college portraits hanging there, but they can see the famous oriel window built in 1843 with a contribution of â£1,000 from alexander beresford-hope. this sum, however, even with â£250 from whewell, who had just been elected to the mastership, did not cover the cost, and the fellows had to make up the deficit. it was suggested that whewell might have contributed more had not his wife dissuaded him, and a fellow wrote a parody of "the house that jack built" which culminated in this verse: this is the architect who is rather a muff, who bamboozled those seniors that cut up so rough, when they saw the inscription, or rather the puff, placed by the master so rude and so gruff, who married the maid so tory and tough, and lived in the house that hope built. the latin inscription, omitting any reference to the part the fellows took in building the oriel, may still be read on the window. in the centre of this side of the court is a doorway approached by a flight of steps, and, from the passage to which this leads, we enter the hall. it was built in the first decade of the seventeenth century, and the screen over the entrance with the musicians' gallery behind belongs to that period. [illustration: the entrance gateway of trinity college. trinity was expanded by henry iii from the "great college" built by edward iii. the gateway dates from about 1535.] unfortunately, the panelling along the sides has replaced the old woodwork in recent times. this beautiful refectory resembles in many ways the middle temple hall in london. the measurements are similar, it has bay windows projecting at either end of the high table, a minstrels' gallery at the opposite end, and well into the last century was heated by a great charcoal brazier in the centre. the fumes found their way into every corner of the hall before reaching their outlet in the lantern. among the numerous portraits on the walls there are several of famous men. among them we find dryden, vaughan, thompson (by herkomer), the duke of gloucester (by sir joshua reynolds), coke (the great lawyer), thackeray, tennyson (by g.f. watts), cowley and bentley. on the other side of the entrance passage are the kitchens with the combination rooms above, where more notable portraits hang. the remainder of the court is composed of living-rooms broken by the queen's gate, a fine tower built in 1597 facing king edward's gate. it has a statue of elizabeth in a niche and the arms of nevile and archbishop whitgift. nevile's court is approached by the passage giving entrance to the hall. the eastern half was built when nevile was master between 1593 and 1615, and the library designed by sir christopher wren occupies the river frontage. to the casual observer this building is a comparatively commonplace one, built in two stories, but although it allows space for the arcaded cloister to go beneath it, the library above consists of one floor and the interior does not in the least follow the external lines. on great occasions nevile's court is turned into a most attractive semi-open-air ball or reception room. one memorable occasion was when the late king edward, shortly after his marriage, was entertained with his beautiful young bride at a ball given at his old college. passing out of the court to the lovely riverside lawns, shaded by tall elms and chestnuts, we experience the ever-fresh thrill of the cambridge "backs," and, crossing trinity bridge, walk down the stately avenue leading away from the river with glimpses of the colleges seen through the trees so full of suggestive beauty as to belong almost to a city of dreams. there are other courts belonging to trinity, including two gloomy ones of recent times on the opposite side of trinity street, but there is, alas! no space left to tell of their many associations. chapter iv the lesser colleges peterhouse.--taking the smaller colleges in the order of their founding, we come first of all to peterhouse, already mentioned more than once in these pages on account of its antiquity, so that it is only necessary to recall the fact that hugh de balsham, bishop of ely, founded this the first regular college in 1284. of the original buildings of the little hostel nothing remains, and the quadrangle was not commenced until 1424, but the tragedy which befell the college took place in the second half of the eighteenth century, when james essex, who built the dreary west front of emmanuel, was turned loose in the court. his hand was fortunately stayed before he had touched the garden side of the southern wing, and the picturesque range of fifteenth-century buildings, including the hall and combination room, remains one of the most pleasing survivals of mediaeval architecture in cambridge. dr. andrew perne, also known as "old andrew turncoat," and other names revealing his willingness to fall in with the prevailing religious ideas of the hour, was made master of peterhouse in 1554, and subsequently he became vice-chancellor of the university. he added to the library the extension which now overlooks trumpington street, and to him the town is largely indebted for those little runnels of sparkling water to be seen flowing along by the curbstones of some of the streets. the chapel was added in 1632 by bishop matthew wren in the italian gothic style then prevalent, and its dark panelled interior is chiefly noted for its flemish east window. the glass was taken out and hidden in the commonwealth period, and replaced when the wave of puritanism had spent itself. all the other windows are later work by professor aimmuller of munich. before this chapel was built the little parish church of st. peter, which stood on the site of the present st. mary the less, supplied the students with all they needed in this direction. clare.--michael house, the second college, was, as we have seen, swept away to make room for trinity, so that the second in order of antiquity is clare college, whose classic facade of great regularity, with the graceful little stone bridge spanning the river, is one of the most familiar features of the "backs." the actual date of the founding of the college by elizabeth de burgh, daughter of gilbert de clare, was 1342, and the court, then built in the prevalent decorated style, continued in use until 1525, when it was so badly damaged by fire that a new building was decided upon, but the work was postponed until 1635, and was only finished in the second year of the restoration. although no shred of evidence exists as to the architect, tradition points to inigo jones, whose death took place, however, in 1652. the bridge is coeval with the earliest side of the court, having been finished in 1640. in the hall, marred by great sheets of plate-glass in the windows, there are portraits of hugh latimer, thomas cecil (earl of exeter), elizabeth de clare (foundress), and other notable men. pembroke.--like clare, pembroke college was founded by a woman. she was marie de st. paul, daughter of guy de chatillon, and on her mother's side was a great-granddaughter of henry iii. she was also the widow of aymer de valance, earl of pembroke, whose splendid tomb is a conspicuous feature of the sanctuary in westminster abbey. instead of the usual modest beginning with one or two existing hostels adapted for the purposes of a purely academic society, the foundress cleared away the hostels on the site nearly opposite historic peterhouse, and began a regular quadrangle, the first of the non-religious type cambridge had known. an existing hostel formed one side, but the others were all erected for the special purpose of the college. a hall and kitchen were built to the east, and on the street side opposite was a gateway placed between students' rooms. marie de st. paul also received permission from two successive avignonese popes to build a chapel with a bell tower at the north-west corner of the quadrangle, and to some extent these exist to-day, incorporated in the reference library and an adjoining lecture-room. of the other buildings to be seen at the present time the oldest is the ivy court, dating from 1633 to 1659. since then architect has succeeded architect, from sir christopher wren, who built a new chapel in 1667, to mr. g.g. scott, the designer of the most easterly buildings in the style of the french renaissance. between these comes the street front by waterhouse, for whose unpleasing faã§ade no one seems to have a good word. there has indeed been such frequent rebuilding at pembroke that the glamour of association has been to a great extent swept away. this is doubly sad in view of the long list of distinguished names associated with the foundation. among them are found thomas rotherham, archbishop of york, who was master of pembroke; foxe, the great bishop of winchester and patron of learning; ridley; grindal, afterwards archbishop of canterbury; matthew hutton and whitgift. beside these masters edmund spenser, the poet gray, and william pitt are names of which pembroke will always be proud. caius.--in the year following the founding of pembroke edmund de gonville added another society to those already established. this was in 1348, but three years later the good man died and left the carrying on of his college to william bateman, bishop of norwich, who had just founded trinity hall. he found it convenient to transfer gonville's foundation to a site opposite his own college, and from this time until the famous dr. caius (kayes or keyes) reformed it in 1557, the college was known as gonville hall. [illustration: the gate of honour caius college. on the left is the senate house, in the centre the east end of king's college chapel, and on the right the university library.] the buildings now comprise three courts, the largest called tree court, being to the east, and the two smaller called gonville and caius respectively, to the west side, separated from trinity hall by a narrow lane. tree court had been partly built in jacobean times by dr. perse, whose monument can be seen in the chapel; but in 1867 mr. waterhouse was given the task of rebuilding the greater part of the quadrangle. he decided on the style of the french renaissance, and struck the most stridently discordant note in the whole of the architecture of the colleges. the tall-turreted frontage suggests nothing so much as the municipal offices of a flourishing borough. the present hall, built by salvin in 1854, was decorated and repanelled by edward warren in 1909. two of the three curiously named gateways built by dr. caius still survive, and one of them, the gate of honour, opening on to senate house passage, is one of the most delightful things in cambridge. dr. caius had been a fellow of gonville hall, and, having taken up medicine, continued his studies at the university of padua; and after considerable european travel practised in england with such success that he was appointed physician to the court of edward vi. philip and mary showed him great favour, and his reputation grew owing to his success in treating the sweating sickness. having acquired much wealth, he decided to refound his old college, and the italian gothic of the two gateways is evidence of his delight in the style with which he had become familiar at padua and elsewhere. he built the two wings of the caius court, leaving the court open towards the south. the idea of his three gates, beginning with the simple gate of humility, leading to the gate of virtue, and so to that of honour, is very fitting, for such sermons in stones could scarcely find a better place than in a university. caius has many famous medical men, treasuring the memory of harvey, who discovered the circulation of the blood, and of dr. butts, who was henry viii.'s physician. trinity hall.--as already mentioned, trinity hall was founded two years after gonville made his modest foundation. it is specialized in relation to law as its neighbour is to medicine. although architecturally of less account, its modern work is free from anything obtrusively out of keeping with academic tradition. salvin's uninspired eastern side of the court containing the entrance was built after a fire in 1852, and is typical of his harsh and unsympathetic work. behind the georgian front of the north side of this court, there is a good deal of the fabric of the tudor buildings, and some of the lecture-rooms, with their oak panelling and big chimneys, are most picturesque. on the west side is the hall, dating from 1743, and the modern combination room, containing a curious old semi-circular table, with a counter-balance railway for passing the wine from one corner to the other. the chapel is on the south side, and is a few years earlier than the hall. corpus christi.--within two years from the founding of trinity hall corpus christi came into being, the gild of st. benedict's church, in conjunction with that of st. mary the great, having obtained a charter for this purpose from edward iii. in 1352, henry duke of lancaster, the king's cousin, being alderman at that time. this was the last of the colleges founded in the first period of college-building, and it has managed to preserve under the shadow of the saxon tower of the parish church, which was for long the college chapel, one of the oldest and most attractive courts in cambridge. several of the windows and doors have been altered in later times, but otherwise three sides of the court are completely mediaeval. having retained this fine relic, the college seems to have been content to let all the rest go, when, in 1823, wilkins, whose bad gothic we have seen at king's college, was allowed to rebuild the great court, including the chapel and hall. sir nicholas bacon and matthew parker, archbishop of canterbury, are two of the most famous names associated with corpus christi. parker left his old college a splendid collection of manuscripts, which are preserved in the library. this college has a strong ecclesiastical flavour, and it is therefore fitting that it should possess such a remarkable document as the original draft of the thirty-nine articles, which is among the treasured manuscripts. queens'.--after the founding of corpus there came an interval of nearly a century before the eight colleges then existing were added to. henry vi. founded king's in 1441, and seven years later his young queen margaret of anjou, who was only eighteen, was induced by andrew docket to take over his very modest beginning in the way of a college. it was refounded under the name of queen's college, having in the two previous years of its existence been dedicated to st. bernard. as in the case of king's, the progress of margaret's college was handicapped by the wars of the roses, but fortunately edward iv.'s queen, elizabeth woodville, espoused the cause of margaret's college when docket appealed to her for help. above all other memories this college glories in its associations with erasmus, who was probably advised to go there by bishop fisher. there are certain of his letters extant which he dates from queens', and it is interesting to find that he wrote in a querulous fashion of the bad wine and beer he had to drink when his friend ammonius failed to send him his usual cask of the best greek wine. he also complained of being beset by thieves, and being shut up because of plague, but it need not be thought from this that cambridge was much worse than other places. of all the colleges in the university queens' belongs most completely to other days. its picturesque red brick entrance tower is the best of this type of gateway, which is such a distinctive feature of cambridge, and the first court is similar to st. john's, with which bishop fisher was so closely connected as lady margaret beaufort's executor. in the inner court, whose west front makes a charming picture from the river, is the president's lodge occupying the north side. its oriel windows and rough cast walls of quite jovial contours overhanging the dark cloisters beneath strike a different note to anything else in cambridge. restoration has altered the appearance of the hall since its early days, but it is an interesting building, with some notable portraits and good stained glass. the court, named after erasmus, at the south-west angle of the college was, it is much to be regretted, rebuilt by essex in the latter part of the eighteenth century; but for this the view of the river front from the curiously constructed footbridge would have been far finer than it is. like the sundial in the first court, this bridge, leading to soft meadows beneath the shade of great trees, is attributed to sir isaac newton. st. catherine's.--this college was founded in 1473 by robert woodlark, chancellor of the university, and dedicated to "the glorious virgin martyr, st. catherine of alexandria." undergraduate slang, alas! reduces all this to "cat's." it was originally called st. catherine's hall, and is one of the smallest of the colleges. although not claiming the strong ecclesiastical flavour of corpus, it has educated quite a formidable array of bishops. from trumpington street the buildings have the appearance of a pleasant manor-house of queen anne or early georgian days, and, with the exception of the wing at the north-west, the whole of the three-sided court dates between 1680 and 1755. both chapel and hall are included in this period. jesus.--standing so completely apart from the closely clustered nucleus, jesus college might be regarded as a modern foundation ranking with downing or selwyn by the hurried visitor who had failed to consult his guide-book and had not previous information to aid him. it was actually founded as long ago as 1497, and the buildings include the church and other parts of the benedictine nunnery of the virgin and st. rhadegund. bishop alcock, of ely, was the founder of the college, and his badge, composed of three cocks' heads, is frequently displayed on the buildings. the entrance gate, dating from the end of the fifteenth century, with stepped parapets, is the work of the founder, and is one of the best features of the college. passing through this tudor arch, we enter the outer court, dating from the reign of charles i., but finished in georgian times. from this the inner court is entered, and here we are in the nuns' cloister, with their church, now the college chapel, to the south, and three beautiful early english arches, which probably formed the entrance to the chapter-house, noticeable on the east. in this court are the hall, the lodge, and the library, but the most interesting of all the buildings is the chapel. it is mainly the early english church of the nunnery curtailed and altered by bishop alcock, who put in perpendicular windows and removed aides without a thought of the denunciations he has since incurred. in many of the windows the glass is by morris and burne-jones, and the light that passes through them gives a rich and solemn dignity to the interior. christ's.--perhaps the most impressive feature of christ's college is the entrance gate facing the busy shopping street called petty cury. the imposing heraldic display reminds us at once of lady margaret beaufort, who, in 1505, refounded god's house, the hostel which had previously stood here. although restored, the chapel is practically of the same period as the gateway, and it and the hall have both interesting interiors. from the court beyond, overlooked on one side by the fine classic building of 1642 attributed to inigo jones, entrance is gained to the beautiful fellows' garden, where the mulberry-tree associated with the memory of milton may still be seen. [illustration: the old court in emmanuel college. the large stained glass window of the hall is seen on the right, and beyond that the window of the combination room. the dormer window of harvard's room is seen on the extreme left.] magdalene.--this college is the only old one on the outer side of the river. it stands on the more historic part of cambridge; but although an abbey hostel was here in henry vi.'s time, it was not until 1542, after the suppression of crowland abbey, to which the property belonged, that magdalene was founded by thomas, baron audley of walden. in the first court of ivy-grown red brick is the rather uninteresting chapel, and on the side facing the entrance the hall stands between the two courts. it has some interesting portraits, including one of samuel pepys, and a good double staircase leading to the combination room, but more notable than anything else is the beautiful renaissance building in the inner court, wherein is preserved the library of books pepys presented to his old college. in the actual glass-covered bookcases in which he kept them, and in the very order, according to size, that pepys himself adopted, we may see the very interesting collection of books he acquired. here, too, is the famous diary, in folio volumes, of neatly written shorthand, and other intensely interesting possessions of the immortal diarist. emmanuel.--the college stands on the site of a dominican friary, but sir walter mildmay, the founder, or his executors, being imbued with strong puritanism, delighted in sweeping away the monastic buildings they found still standing. ralph symons was the first architect, but all his excellent elizabethan work has vanished, the oldest portion of the college only dating back to 1633. from that time up to the end of the eighteenth century the rest of the structures were reconstructed in the successive styles of classic revival. wren began the work, but unluckily it was left to essex to complete it, and he is responsible for the dreary hall occupying the site of the old chapel. sidney sussex.--at the foot of the list of post-reformation colleges comes sidney sussex, founded, in 1589, by frances lady sussex, daughter of sir william sidney, and widow of the second earl of sussex. during the mania for rebuilding, all the elizabethan work of ralph symons was replaced by essex, and in the nineteenth century the notorious wyatville, whose georgian gothic removed all the glamour from windsor castle, finished the work. downing.--the remaining colleges belong to the period we may call recent. downing, the first of these, was not a going concern until 1821, although sir george downing, the founder, made the will by which his property was eventually devoted to this purpose as early as the year 1717. ridley hall came into being in 1879, and is an adjunct to the other colleges for those who have already graduated and have decided to enter the church. selwyn college, founded about the same time, is named after the great bishop selwyn, who died in 1877. the college aims at the provision, on a hostel basis, of a university education on a less expensive scale than the older colleges. of the two women's colleges, girton was founded first. this was in 1869, and the site chosen was as far away as hitchen, but four years later, gaining confidence, the college was moved to girton, a mile north-west of the town, on the roman via devana. newnham arrived on the scene soon afterwards, and, considering proximity to the university town no disadvantage, the second women's college was planted between ridley and selwyn, with miss clough as the first principal. chapter v the university library, the senate house, the pitt press, and the museums in the early days when the university of cambridge was still in an embryonic state, the various newly formed communities of academic learning had no corporate centre whatever. "the chancellor and masters" are first mentioned in a rescript of bishop balsham dated 1276, eight years before he founded peterhouse, the first college, and six years before this henry iii. had addressed a letter to "the masters and scholars of cambridge university," so that between these two dates it would appear that the chancellor really became the prime academic functionary. but it was not until well into the fourteenth century that any university buildings made their appearance. the "schools quadrangle" was begun when robert thorpe, knight, was chancellor (1347-64), and during the following century various schools for lecturing and discussions on learned matters were built round the court, now entirely devoted to the library. unfortunately, the medieval character of these buildings has been masked by a classic faã§ade on the south, built in 1754, when it was thought necessary to make the library similar in style to the newly built senate house. thus without any further excuse the fine perpendicular frontage by thomas rotherham, bishop of lincoln and fellow of king's, was demolished to make way for what can only be called a most unhappy substitute. george i. was really the cause of this change, for in 1715 he presented cambridge with dr. john moore's extensive library, and not having the space to accommodate the little hanoverian's gift, the authorities decided to add the old senate house, which occupied the north side of the quadrangle, to the library, and to build a new senate house; and the building then erected, designed by mr., afterwards sir james, burrough, is still in use. it is a well-proportioned and reposeful piece of work, although the average undergraduate probably has mixed feelings when he gazes at the double line of big windows between composite pillasters supporting the rather severe cornice. for in this building, in addition to the "congregations," or meetings, of the senate consisting of resident and certain non-resident masters of art, the examinations for degrees were formerly held. here on the appointed days, early in the year, the much-crammed undergraduates passed six hours of feverish writing, and here, ten days later, in the midst of a scene of long-established disorder, their friends heard the results announced. immediately the name of the senior wrangler was given out there was a pandemonium of cheering, shouting, yelling, and cap-throwing, and the same sort of thing was repeated until the list of wranglers was finished. following this, proctors threw down from the oaken galleries printed lists of the other results, and a wild struggle at once took place in which caps and gowns were severely handled, and for a time the marble floor was covered with a fighting mob of students all clutching at the fluttering papers, while the marble features of the two first georges, william pitt, and the third duke of somerset remained placidly indifferent. although there is no space here to describe the many early books the library contains, it is impossible to omit to mention that among the notable manuscripts exhibited in the galleries is the famous _codex bezae_ presented to the university by theodore beza, who rescued it, in 1562, when the monastery at lyons, in which it was preserved, was being destroyed. this manuscript is in uncial letters on vellum in greek and latin, and includes the four gospels and the acts. it was a pardonable mistake for the old-time "freshman" to think the pitt press in trumpington street was a church, but no one does this now, because the gate tower, built about 1832, when the gothic revival was sweeping the country, is now known as "the freshman's church." the pitt press was established with a part of the fund raised to commemorate william pitt, who was educated at pembroke college nearly opposite. the university press publishes many books, and gives special attention to books the publication of which tends to the advancement of learning. the two universities and the king's printer have still a monopoly in printing the bible and book of common prayer. the magnificent museum founded by richard, viscount fitzwilliam, is a little farther down trumpington street. it was finished in 1847 by cockerell, who added the unhappy north side to the university library, but the original architect was basevi, who was prevented from finishing the building he had begun by his untimely death through falling from one of the towers of ely cathedral. the magnificence of the great portico, with its ceiling of encrusted ornament, is vastly impressive, but the marble staircase in the entrance lobby, with its rich crimson reds, is rather overpowering in conjunction with the archaeological exhibits. plainer, cooler and less aggressive marble such as that employed in the lobby of the victoria and albert museum would have been more suitable. a very considerable proportion of the museum's space is devoted to the collection of pictures--some of them copies--which the university has gathered. the interesting turner water-colours presented by john ruskin are here, with a murillo, reputed to be his earliest known work, and a good many other examples of the work of famous men of the italian and dutch schools. besides the museum of archaeology, between peterhouse and the river, the vigorous growth of the scientific side of the university is shown in the vast buildings newly erected on both sides of downing street, which has now become a street of laboratories and museums. now that the outworks of the hoary citadel of classicism have been stormed, and the undermining of the great walls has already begun, the development of modern science at cambridge will be accelerated, and in the face of the urgency of the demands of worldwide competition it would appear that the university on the cam is more fitted to survive than her sister on the isis. [illustration: the circular norman church of the holy sepulchre. this splendid survival of the norman age is one of the four churches in england planned to imitate the form of the holy sepulchre of jerusalem.] chapter vi the churches in the town almost everyone who goes to cambridge as a visitor bent on sightseeing naturally wishes to see the colleges before anything else, but it should not be forgotten that there are at least two churches, apart from the college chapels, whose importance is so great that to fail to see them would be a criminal omission. there are other churches of considerable interest, but for a description of them it is unfortunately impossible to find space. foremost in point of antiquity comes st. benedict's, or st benet's, possessing a tower belonging to pre-conquest times, and the only structural relic of the saxon town now in existence. the church was for a considerable time the chapel of corpus christi, and the ancient tower still rises picturesquely over the roofs of the old court of that college. without the tower, the church would be of small interest, for the nave and chancel are comparatively late, and have been rather drastically restored. the interior, nevertheless, is quite remarkable in possessing a massive romanesque arch opening into the tower, with roughly carved capitals to its tall responds. outside there are all the unmistakable features of saxon work--the ponderously thick walls, becoming thinner in the upper parts, the "long and short" method of arranging the coigning, and the double windows divided with a heavy baluster as at wharram-le-street in yorkshire, earl's barton in northamptonshire, and elsewhere. next in age and importance to st. benedict's comes what is popularly called "the round church," one of the four churches of the order of knights templar now standing in this country. the other three are the temple church in london, st. sepulchre's at northampton, and little maplestead church in essex, and they are given in chronological order, cambridge possessing the oldest. it was consecrated the church of the holy sepulchre, and was built before the close of the eleventh century, and is therefore a work of quite early norman times. the interior is wonderfully impressive, for it has nothing of the lightness and grace of the transitional work in the temple, and the heavy round arches opening into the circular aisle are supported by eight massive piers. above there is another series of eight pillars, very squat, and of about the same girth as those below, and the spaces between are subdivided by a small pillar supporting two semi-circular arches. part of the surrounding aisle collapsed in 1841, and the cambridge camden society (now defunct) employed the architect salvin to thoroughly restore the church. he took down a sort of battlemented superstructure erected long after the norman period, and built the present conical roof. after these early churches, the next in interest is great st. mary's, the university church, conspicuously placed in the market-place and in the very centre of the town. it has not, however, always stood forth in such distinguished isolation, for only as recently as the middle of last century did the demolition take place of the domestic houses that surrounded it. and inside, the alterations in recent times have been quite as drastic, robbing the church of all the curious and remarkable characteristics it boasted until well past the middle of the nineteenth century, and reducing the whole interior to the stereotyped features of an average parish church. if we enter the building to-day without any knowledge of its past, we merely note a spacious late perpendicular nave, having galleries in the aisles with fine dark eighteenth-century panelled fronts, and more woodwork of this plain and solemn character in front of the organ, in the aisle chapels, and elsewhere. a soft greenish light from the clerestory windows (by powell), with their rows of painted saints, falls upon the stonework of the arcades and the wealth of dark oak, but nothing strikes us as unusual until we discover that the pulpit is on rails, making it possible to draw it from the north side to a central position beneath the chancel arch. this concession to tradition is explained when we discover the state of the church before 1863, when dr. luard, who was then vicar, raised an agitation, before which the georgian glories of the university church passed away. before the time of laud, when so many departures from mediaeval custom had taken place, we learn, from information furnished during the revival brought about by the over-zealous archbishop, that the church was arranged much on the lines of a theatre, with a pulpit in the centre, which went by the name of the cockpit, that the service was cut as short as "him that is sent thither to read it" thought fit, and that during sermon-time the chancel was filled with boys and townsmen "all in a rude heap between the doctors and the altar." but this concentration on the university sermon and disrespect for the altar went further, for, with the legacy of mr. william worts, the existing galleries were put up in 1735, the cockpit was altered, and other changes made which mr. a.h. thompson has vividly described: ... the centre of the church was filled with an immense octagonal pulpit on the "three-decker" principle, the crowning glory and apex of which was approached, like a church-tower, by an internal staircase. about 1740 burrough filled the chancel-arch and chancel with a permanent gallery, which commanded a thorough view of this object. the gallery, known as the "throne," was an extraordinary and unique erection. the royal family of versailles never worshipped more comfortably than did the vice-chancellor and heads of houses, in their beautiful armchairs, and the doctors sitting on the tiers of seats behind them. in this worship of the pulpit, the altar was quite disregarded.... the church thus became an oblong box, with the organ at the end, the throne at the other, and the pulpit between them. of all this nothing remains besides the organ and the side galleries, and of the splendid screen, built in 1640 to replace its still finer predecessor, swept away by archbishop parker nearly a century before, only that portion running across the north chapel remains. until the senate house was built, the commencements were held in the church, but thereafter it would appear that the sermon flourished almost to the exclusion of anything else. the diminutive little church of st. peter near the castle mound is of transitional norman date, and has roman bricks built into its walls. o fairest of all fair places, sweetest of all sweet towns! with the birds and the greyness and greenness, and the men in caps and gowns. all they that dwell within thee, to leave are ever loth, for one man gets friends, and another gets honour, and one gets both. amy levy: _a farewell_. printed in great britain by billing and sons, ltd., guildford and esher. [illustration: plan of cambridge. by permission, from _a concise guide to the town and university of cambridge_ (j. willis clark), published by bowes and bowes, cambridge.] index akeman street, 8 alcock, bishop, 46, 47 ashton, hugh, archdeacon of york, 18 audley of walden, thomas baron, 48 "backs," the, 34 bicon, sir nicholas, 43 bolsham, bishop, 13, 21, 51 beaufort, lady margaret, 15, 18, 20, 45, 47 bede, 6 beza, theodore, 54 boleyn, anne, 28 burrough, sir james, 52, 61 cains college, 39-41 caius, dr., 40 cambridge camden society, 59 cambridge castle, 7-10 cambridge, origin of name, 6-9 cavendish, mary, countess of shrewsbury, 16 caxton, william, 19 christ's college, 20, 47-48 clare college, 36-37 corpus christi college, 13, 42-43, 57 curthose, robert, 11 docket, andrew, 43 downing college, 50 downing, sir george, 50 edward iii., 10, 30, 42 edward vi., 41 edward vii., 34 elizabeth, queen, 33 elizabeth woodville, queen, 44 ely, 6, 9, 12, 21 emmanuel college, 48-49 erasmus, 45 essex, james, 35, 49 fisher, bishop, 15, 19, 44, 45 george i., 52, 53 gibbs, james, 23 girton, 50 gonville, edmund de, 39 gonville hall, 13, 40 grantchester, 8 great st. mary's church, 42, 59 henry i., 11 henry iii., 51 henry iv., 10 henry vi., 11, 22, 23, 43 henry vii., 23 henry viii., 20, 28, 29, 30 hereward the wake, 9 jesus college, 46 jones, inigo, 37-38, 48 king's college, 10, 14, 22-28 king's hall, 10, 13, 29 magdalene college, 14, 48, 49 margaret of anjou, queen, 43 mary, queen, 10, 31 michael house, 13, 29 mildmay, sir walter, 49 moore, dr. john, 52 nevile, thomas, 30 newnham, 50 newton, sir isaac, 31, 45 parker, archbishop, 62 parker, matthew, archbishop of canterbury, 43 pembroke college, 13, 37-38 pepys, samuel, 3, 48 perne, dr. andrew, 36 perse, dr., 40 peterhouse, 13, 35-36, 51 philip and mary, 41 pitt press, 54 pitt, william, 39, 53, 54 queens' college, 43-45 richard iii., 23 rickman, thomas, 17 ridley hall, 50 roman cambridge, 6-9 round church, the, 58 st. benedict's church, 42, 57 st. catherine's college, 45-46 st. john's college, 14, 15-21 st. john's hospital, 13, 16, 21 st. mary the less, 36 st. peter's church, 36, 62 salvin, anthony, 59 scott, sir gilbert, 15, 17 selwyn college, 50 senate house, 52, 53, 62 sidney, sir william, 49 sidney sussex college, 14, 49 skeat, professor, 7, 9 stourbridge fair, 10, 12 sussex, frances lady, 49 symons, ralph, 49 tennyson, lord, 31 thirty-nine articles, 43 trinity college, 29-31 trinity hall, 13, 41-42 valance, aymer de, 38 via devana, 8 walpole, sir robert, 24 whewell, william, 32 wilberforce, william, 21 wilkins, william, 24 william the conqueror, 9, 10 williams, lord keeper, 16 wordsworth, william, 21, 26, 31 wren, bishop matthew, 35 wren, sir christopher, 34, 38 wyatville, sir j., 49 wykeham, william of, 2 every attempt has been made to replicate the original as printed. variation in the spellings of names has not been corrected (i.e. queens'/queen's) some typographical errors have been corrected; a list follows the text. the footnotes follow the text. ^{e} signified a superscript letter e some illustrations have been moved from mid-paragraph for ease of reading. (etext transcriber's note) cambridge and its story _all rights reserved_ [illustration: oriel windows queen's college] cambridge and its story by charles william stubbs, d.d. dean of ely [illustration] with twenty-four lithographs and other illustrations by herbert railton the lithographs being tinted by fanny railton 1903 london j. m. dent & co. aldine house, w.c. printed by ballantyne, hanson & co. at the ballantyne press preface i should wish to write one word by way of explanation of the character of the descriptive historical sketch which forms the text of the present book. some time ago i undertook to prepare, for "the mediæval towns series" of my publisher, a work on the story of the town and university of cambridge. arrangements were made with mr. herbert railton for its pictorial illustration. it had been intended in the first instance, that the artist's pen and ink sketches should have been reproduced by the ordinary processes used in modern book illustration. but the poetic glamour of such a place as cambridge and its _genius loci_ did not allow the enthusiasm of the artist to remain satisfied with such drawings only as might be readily reproduced by the ordinary processes. in addition to many sketches in black and white, suitable for reproduction in the body of the text in illustration of interesting bits of architectural detail, or of quaint grouping, mr. railton has also drawn a series of large-sized pencil-pictures of the principal college buildings. these drawings are so beautiful, so full of delicacy and tenderness and yet so firm and effective in their treatment of light and shade, and show so much sympathy for the old buildings and all their picturesque charm, that the publisher at once felt that they must not be treated as ordinary book illustrations. the artist had produced pictures worthy to be classed with the best work of samuel prout. it became the duty of the publisher to treat them with corresponding respect. the method of auto-lithography has accordingly been adopted, by which the plates are an absolute reproduction in size and tint of the pencil drawings, and the artist's work goes straight to the reader without any mechanical intervention. a new feature has been added by which the colour stones have been made by mrs. railton acting in collaboration with her husband. this process of reproduction necessarily involved a change in the proposed format of the book. it was determined, therefore, to issue in the first instance an _edition de luxe_ of "the story of cambridge," on specially prepared paper and in large quarto size. i have readily consented to such a course, for although i may seem, by the more imposing form of a large library edition, to be guilty of some presumption in placing my historical sketch in competition with such histories as those of mr. mullinger in the "epochs of history series," or of my friend, mr. t. d. atkinson, in "cambridge described"--the larger books of mr. j. w. clark on the architectural history of cambridge, and of mr. mullinger on the general history of the university are already classics to which humbler writers on cambridge can only look as to final authorities--i can only hope that my readers will recognise that my presumption is only apparent, and meanwhile i rest confident that even the historical critic will have little care for the inadequacy of my prose rendering of "the story of cambridge," absorbed as he must be by his delight in the beauty of mr. railton's drawings. in any case, i shall be entirely satisfied if only my descriptive sketch is found adequate for the help of the general reader in appreciating the story of which the artist has been able to give so poetic an interpretation. c. w. s. the deanery, ely, _michaelmas_, 1903. contents page preface v list of illustrations xiii chapter i legendary origin of the university 1 geographical and commercial importance of the city site--map of the county a palimpsest--glamour of the fenland--cambridge the gateway of east anglia--the roman roads--the roman station--the castle hill--stourbridge fair--cambridge a chief centre of english commerce. chapter ii cambridge in the norman time 22 william i. at cambridge castle--cambridge at the domesday survey--roger picot the sheriff--pythagoras school--castle and borough--s. benet's church and its parish--the king's ditch--the great and the small bridges--the king's and the bishop's mills--the river hythes--s. peter by the castle and s. giles church--the early streets of the city--the augustinian priory of barnwell--the round church of the holy sepulchre--the cambridge jewry--debt of early scholars to the philosophers of the synagogue--benjamin's house--municipal freedom of the borough. chapter iii the beginnings of university life 49 monastic origins--continuity of learning in early england--the school of york--the venerable bede--alcuin and the schools of charles the great--the danish invasions--the benedictine revival--the monkish chroniclers--the coming of the friars--the franciscan and dominican houses at cambridge--the franciscan scholars--roger bacon--bishop grosseteste--the new aristotle and the scientific spirit--the scholastic philosophy--aquinas--migration of scholars from paris to cambridge--the term "university"--the colleges and the hostels--the course of study--trivium and quadrivium--the four faculties--england a paradise of clerks--parable of the monk's pen. chapter iv the earliest college foundation: peterhouse 71 the early monastic houses in cambridge--student proselytising by the friars--the oxford college of merton a protest against this tendency--the rule of merton taken as a model by hugh de balsham, founder of peterhouse--the hospital of s. john--the scholars of ely--domestic economy of the college--the dress of the mediæval student--peterhouse buildings--little s. mary's church--the perne library--the college chapel. chapter v the colleges of the fourteenth century 93 the fourteenth century an age of great men and great events but not of great scholars--petrarch and richard of bury--michael house--the king's scholars--king's hall--clare hall--pembroke college--gonville hall--dr. john caius--his three gates of humility, virtue, and honour. chapter vi the college of the cambridge guilds 120 unique foundation of corpus christi college--the cambridge guilds--the influence of "the good duke"--the peasant revolt--destruction of charters--"perish the skill of the clerks!"--the black death--lollardism at the universities--the poore priestes of wycliffe. chapter vii two royal foundations 137 henry vi--the most pitiful character in all english history--his devotion to learning and his saintly spirit--his foundation of eton and king's college--the building of king's college chapel--its architect, reginald of ely, the cathedral master-mason--its relation to the ely lady chapel--its stained glass windows--its close foundation--queens' college--margaret of anjou and elizabeth wydville--the buildings of queens'--similarity to haddon hall--its most famous resident, erasmus--his _novum instrumentum_ edited within its walls. chapter viii two of the smaller halls 173 the foundation of trinity hall by bishop bateman of norwich--on the site of the hostel of student-monks of ely--prior crauden--evidence of the ely obedientary rolls--the college buildings--the old hall--s. edward's church used as college chapel--hugh latimer's sermon on a pack of cards--harvey goodwin--frederick maurice--the hall library--its ancient bookcases--the foundation of s. catherine's hall. chapter ix bishop alcock and the nuns of s. rhadegund 183 the new learning in italy and germany--the english "pilgrim scholars": grey, tiptoft, linacre, grocyn--the practical genius of england--bishops rotherham, alcock, and fisher--alcock, diplomatist, financier, architect--the founder of jesus college--he takes as his model jesus college, rotherham--his object the training of a preaching clergy--the story of the nunnery of s. rhadegund--its dissolution--conversion of the conventual church into a college chapel--the monastic buildings, gateway, cloister, chapter house--the founder a better architect than an educational reformer--the jesus roll of eminent men from cranmer to coleridge. chapter x colleges of the new learning 210 the lady margaret foundations--bishop fisher of rochester--the foundation of christ's--god's house--the buildings of the new college--college worthies--john milton--henry more--charles darwin--the hospital of the brethren of s. john--death of the lady margaret--foundation of s. john's college--its buildings--the great gateway--the new library--the bridge of sighs--the wilderness--wordsworth's "prelude"--the aims of bishop fisher--his death. chapter xi a small and a great college 246 dissolution of the monasteries--schemes for collegiate spoliation checked by henry viii.--monks' or buckingham college--refounded by sir thomas audley as magdalene college--conversion of the old buildings--the pepysian library--foundation of trinity college--michaelhouse and the king's hall--king edward's gate--the queen's gate--the great gate--dr. thomas neville--the great court--the hall--neville's court--new court--dr. bentley--"a house of all kinds of good letters." chapter xii ancient and protestant foundations 265 queen elizabeth and the founder of emmanuel--the puritan age--sir walter mildmay--the building of emmanuel--the tenure of fellowships--puritan worthies--the founder of harvard--lady frances sidney--the sidney college charter--the buildings--the chapel and the old franciscan refectory--royalists and puritans--oliver cromwell--thomas fuller---a child's prayer for his mother. list of illustrations _tinted lithographs_ oriel windows, queens' college _frontispiece_ the school of pythagoras _facing page_ 28 peterhouse " 82 clare college and bridge " 96 pembroke college " 106 gate of honour and gate of virtue, caius college " 112 the churches of s. edward and s. mary the great from peas hill " 123 corpus christi college and s. benedict's church " 128 the pitt press, s. botolph's church, and corpus christi college " 132 the west doorway, king's college chapel " 144 gateway to old court of king's college " 153 the chapel, trinity hall " 174 oriel window, jesus college " 178 gateway in great court, s. catherine's college " 180 the chapel, christ's college " 214 gateway, s. john's college " 230 oriel in library, s. john's college " 236 tower and turrets of trinity from s. john's college " 243 the library, chapel, and hall, magdalene college " 248 gateway and dial, trinity college " 254 neville's court, trinity college " 260 hall and chapel, emmanuel college " 266 downing college " 274 the garden front, sidney sussex college " 278 _black and white illustrations_ page courtyard of the falcon inn 25 saxon tower, s. benedict's church 29 the abbey house 35 chapel, barnwell priory 39 the round church 41 oriel windows from house in petty-cury _facing page_ 46 clare college and bridge 101 pembroke college 107 pembroke college, oriels and entrance 109 caius college, the gate of honour 117 king's parade 139 king's college chapel 145 king's college chapel _facing page_ 150 king's college quadrangle 155 cloister court, queens' college 163 oriel window, queens' college 166 the bridge and gables, queens' college 169 a bit from sidney street 172 divinity schools and s. john's 193 norman work in church of jesus college 197 norman work in n. transept, jesus college chapel 201 entrance to chapter-house, priory of s. rhadegund 203 jack in wolsey's kitchen, christ's college 219 the courtyard of the wrestlers' inn _facing page_ 220 entrance to s. john's college 229 s. john's college from the backs 233 bridge of sighs, s. john's college 239 tower and gateway, trinity college _facing page_ 252 the fountain, trinity college " 258 [illustration: cambridge and its story] chapter i legendary origin of the university "next then the plenteous ouse came far from land, by many a city and by many a town, and many rivers taking under-hand into his waters as he passeth down, the cle, the were, the grant, the sture, the bowne, thence doth by huntingdon and cambridge flit, my mother cambridge, whom as with a crowne he doth adorne, and is adorn'd by it with many a gentle muse and many a learned wit." --spenser's _faerie queene_, iv. xi. 34. geographical and commercial importance of the city site--map of the county a palimpsest--glamour of the fenland--cambridge the gateway of east anglia--the roman roads--the roman station--the castle hill--stourbridge fair--cambridge a chief centre of english commerce. one could wish perhaps that the story of cambridge should begin, as so many good stories of men and cities have begun, in the antique realm of poetry and romance. that it did so begin our forefathers indeed had little doubt. john lydgate, the poet, a benedictine monk of bury, "the disciple"--as he is proud to call himself--"of geoffrey chaucer," but best remembered perhaps by later times as the writer of "london lackpenny" and "troy book," has left certain verses on the foundation of the town and university of cambridge, which are still preserved to us.[1] some stanzas of that fourteenth-century poem will serve to show in what a cloudland of empty legend it was at one time thought that the story of the beginnings of cambridge might be found:-"by trew recorde of the doctor bede that some tyme wrotte so mikle with his hande, and specially remembringe as i reede in his chronicles made of england amounge other thynges as ye shall understand, whom for myne aucthour i dare alleage, seith the translacion and buylding of cambridge. * * * * * "touching the date, as i rehearse can fro thilke tyme that the world began four thowsand complete by accomptès clere and three hundred by computacion joyned thereto eight and fortie yeare, when cantebro gave the foundacion of thys citie and this famous towne and of this noble universitie sette on this river which is called cante. * * * * * "this cantebro, as it well knoweth at athenes scholed in his yougt, all his wyttes greatlye did applie to have acquaintance by great affection with folke-experte in philosophie. from athens he brought with hym downe philosophers most sovereigne of renowne unto cambridge, playnlye this is the case, anaxamander and anaxagoras with many other myne aucthors dothe fare, to cambridge fast can hym spede with philosophers and let for no cost spare in the schooles to studdie and to reede; of whose teachinges great profit that gan spreade and great increase rose of his doctrine; thus of cambridge the name gan first shyne as chief schoole and universitie unto this tyme fro the daye it began by cleare reporte in manye a far countre unto the reign of cassibellan. * * * * * "and as it is put eke in memorie, howe julius cesar entring this region on cassybellan after his victorye tooke with hym clarkes of famous renowne fro cambridg and ledd theim to rome towne, thus by processe remembred here to forne cambridg was founded long or chryst was borne." but it is not only in verse that this fabric of fable is to be found. down even to the middle of the last century the ears of cambridge graduates were still beguiled by strange stories of the early renown of their university--how it was founded by a spanish prince, cantaber (the "cantebro" of lydgate's verses), "in the 4321st year of the creation of the world," and in the sixth year of gurgant, king of britain; how athenian astronomers and philosophers, "because of the pleasantness of the place," came to cambridge as its earliest professors, "the king having appointed them stipends"; how king arthur, "on the 7th of april, in the year of the incarnacion of our lord, 531," granted a charter of academic privileges "to kenet, the first rector of the schools"; and how the university subsequently found another royal patron in the east anglian king sigebert, and had among its earliest doctors of divinity the great saxon scholars bede and alcuin. i have before me as i write a small octavo volume, a guide-book to cambridge and its colleges, much worn and thumbed, probably by its eighteenth-century owner, possibly by his nineteenth-century successor, in which all these fables and legends are set out in order. the book has lost its title-page, but it is easily identifiable as an english translation of richard parker's _skeletos cantabrigiensis_, written about 1622, but not apparently published until a century later, when the antiquary, thomas hearne, printed it in his edition of leland's _collectanea_. my english edition of the _skeletos_ is presumably either that which was "printed for thomas warner at the black boy, pater noster row," and without a date, or that published by "j. bateman at the hat and star in s. paul's churchyard," and dated 1721. as an illustration of the kind of record which passed for history even in the last century,--for the early editions of hallam's "history of the middle ages" bear evidence that that careful historian still gave some credence to these cambridge fables,--it may be interesting to quote one or two passages from the legendary history of nicholas cantelupe, which is prefixed to this english version of parker's book:- "anaximander, one of the disciples of thales, came to this city on account of his philosophy and great skill in astrology, where he left much improvement in learning to posterity. after his example, anaxagoras, quitting his possessions, after a long peregrination, came to cambridge, where he writ books, and instructed the unlearned, for which reason that city was by the people of the country call'd the city of scholars. "king cassibelan, when he had taken upon him the government of the kingdom, bestowed such preheminence on this city, that any fugitive or criminal, desirous to acquire learning, flying to it, was defended in the sight of his enemy, with pardon, and without molestation, upbraiding or affront offer'd him. for which reason, as also on account of the richness of the soil, the serenity of the air, the great source of learning, and the king's favour, young and old, from many parts of the earth, resorted thither, some of whom julius cæsar, having vanquished cassibelan, carry'd away to rome, where they afterwards flourish'd." there then follows a letter, given without any doubt of authenticity, from alcuin of york, purporting to be written to the scholars of cambridge from the court of charles the great:- "to the discreet heirs of christ, the scholars of the unspotted mother cambridge, _ælqninus_, by life a sinner, greeting and glory in the virtues of learning. forasmuch as ignorance is the mother of error, i earnestly intreat that youths among you be us'd to be present at the praises of the supreme king, not to unearth foxes, not to hunt hares, let them now learn the holy scriptures, having obtain'd knowledge of the science of truth, to the end that in their perfect age they may teach others. call to mind, i beseech you dearly beloved the most noble master of our time, _bede_ the priest, doctor of your university, under whom by permission of the divine grace, i took the doctor's degree in the year from the incarnation of our lord 692, what an inclination he had to study in his youth, what praise he has now among men, and much more what glory of reward with god. farewell always in _christ jesu_, by whose grace you are assisted in learning. amen." we may omit the mythical charter of king arthur and come to the passage concerning king alfred, obviously intended to turn the flank of the oxford patriots, who too circumstantially relate how their university was founded by that great scholar king. "in process of time, when alfred, or alred, supported by divine comfort, after many tribulations, had obtained the monarchy of all england, he translated to oxford the scholars, which penda, king of the mercians, had with the leave of king ceadwald carried from cambridge to kirneflad (rather cricklade, as above), to which scholars he was wont to distribute alms in three several places. he much honour'd the cantabrigians and oxonians, and granted them many privileges. "afterwards he erected and establish'd grammar schools throughout the whole island, and caus'd the youth to be instructed in their mother tongue. then perceiving that the scholars, whom he had conveyed to oxford, continually applied themselves to the study of the laws and expounded the holy scriptures: he appointed grimwald their rector, who had been rector and chancellor of the city of cambridge." the severer canons of modern historical criticism have naturally made short work of all these absurd fables; nor do they even allow us to accept as authentic the otherwise not unpleasing story quoted from the chronicle, or rather historical novel, of ingulph, in the quaint pages of thomas fuller, written a generation later than richard parker's book, which tells how, early in the twelfth century, certain monks were sent to cambridge by joffrey, abbot of crowland, to expound in a certain public barn (by later writers fondly thought to be that which is now known by the name of pythagoras' school) the pages of priscian, quintillian, and aristotle. there is little doubt, i fear, that we may find the inciting motive of all this exuberant fancy and invention in the desire to glorify the one university at the expense of the other, which is palpably present in that last quotation from parker's book, and which is perhaps not altogether absent from the writings and the conversation of some academic patriots of our own day. we may, however, more wisely dismiss all these foolish legends and myths as to origins in the kindlier spirit of quaint old fuller in the introduction to his "history of the university of cambridge":- "sure i am," he says, "there needeth no such pains to be took, or provision to be made, about the pre-eminence of our english universities, to regulate their places, they having better learned humility from the precept of the apostle, in honour preferring one another. wherefore i presume my aunt oxford will not be justly offended if in this book i give my own mother the upper hand, and first begin with her history. thus desiring god to pour his blessing upon both, that neither may want milk for their children, or children for their milk, we proceed to the business." descending then from the misty cloudland of fable to the hard ground of historic fact, we are shortly met by a question which, i hope, fuller would have recognised as businesslike. how did it come about that our forefathers founded a university on the site which we now call cambridge--"that distant marsh town," as a modern oxford historian somewhat contemptuously calls it? the question is a natural one, and has not seldom been asked. we shall find, i think, the most reasonable answer to it by asking a prior question. how did the town of cambridge itself come to be a place of any importance in the early days? the answer is, in the first place, geographical; in the second, commercial. we may fitly occupy the remaining space of this chapter in seeking to formulate that answer. and first, as to the physical features of the district which has cambridge for its most important centre. "the map of england," it has been strikingly said by professor maitland, "is the most wonderful of all palimpsests." certainly that portion of the map of england which depicts the country surrounding the fenlands of east anglia is not the least interesting part of that palimpsest. let us take such a map and try roughly to decipher it.[2] if we begin with the seaboard line we shall perhaps at first sight be inclined to think that it cannot have changed much in the course of the centuries. and most probably the coast-line of lincolnshire, from a point northwards near great grimsby or cleethorpes at the mouth of the humber to a point southwards near waynefleet at the mouth of the steeping river, twenty miles or less north of boston, and again the coast-line of norfolk and suffolk from hunstanton point at the north-east corner of the wash round past brancaster and wells and cromer to yarmouth and then southwards past southwold and aldborough to harwich at the mouth of the orwell and stour estuary, has not altered much in ten or even twenty centuries. but that can hardly be said with regard to the coast-line of the wash itself. for on its western side our palimpsest warns us that there is a considerable district called _holland_; that on its south side, a dozen miles or more from the present coast-line, is a town called _wisbech_ (or ouse-beach); that still farther inland, within a mile or two of cambridge itself, are to be found the villages of waterbeach and landbeach; and that scattered throughout the whole district of the low-lying lands are villages and towns whose place-names have the termination "ey" or "ea," meaning "island"--such, as thorney, spinny, sawtrey, ramsey, whittlesea, horningsea; and that one considerable tract of slightly higher ground, though now undoubtedly surrounded by dry land, is still called the isle of ely. these place-names are significant, and tell their own story. and that story, as we try to interpret it, will gradually lead us to the conclusion that the ancient seaboard line of the wash, instead of being marked on the map of england as we have it now, by a line roughly joining boston and king's lynn, would on the earliest text of the palimpsest require an extended sea boundary on which lincoln, and stamford and peterborough, and huntingdon and cambridge, and brandon and downham market would become almost seaboard towns, and ely an island fifteen miles or so off the coast at cambridge. such a conclusion, of course, would be somewhat of an exaggeration, for the wide waste of waters which thus formed an extension of the wash southwards was not all or always sea water. so utterly transformed, however, has the whole fen country become in modern times--the vast plain of the bedford level contains some 2000 square miles of the richest corn-land in england--that it is very difficult to restore in the imagination the original scenery of the days before the drainage, when the rivers which take the rainfall of the central counties of england--the nene, the welland, the witham, the glen, and the bedfordshire ouse--spread out into one vast delta or wilderness of shallow waters. the poetic glamour of the land, now on the side of its fertility and strange beauty, now on the side of its monotony and weird loneliness, has always had a strange fascination for the chroniclers and writers of every age. in the first book of the _liber eliensis_ (ii. 105), written by thomas, a monk of ely, in the twelfth century, there is a description of the fenlands, given by a soldier to william the conqueror, which reads like the report of the land of plenty and promise brought by the spies to joshua. in the _historia major_ of matthew paris, however, it is described as a place "neither accessible for man or beast, affording only deep mud, with sedge and reeds, and possest of birds, yea, much more by devils, as appeareth in the life of s. guthlac, who, finding it a place of horror and great solitude, began to inhabit there." at a later time drayton in his _polyolbion_ gives a picture of the fenland life as one of manifold industry:-"the toiling fisher here is towing of his net; the fowler is employed his limèd twigs to set; one underneath his horse to get a shoot doth stalk; another over dykes upon his stilts doth walk; there other with their spades the peats are squaring out, and others from their cars are busily about to draw out sedge and reed to thatch and stover fit: that whosoever would a landskip rightly hit, beholding but my fens shall with more shapes be stored than germany or france or thuscan can afford." this eulogy of the fenland, however, drayton is careful to put into the mouth of a fenland nymph, who is not allowed to pass without criticism by her sister who rules the uplands:- "o how i hate thus of her foggy fens to hear rude holland prate that with her fish and fowl here keepeth such a coil, as her unwholesome air, and more unwholesome soil, for these of which she boasts the more might suffered be." but probably the most picturesque and truthful imaginative sketch of the old fenlands is that which was given in our own time by the graphic pen of charles kingsley in his fine novel of "hereward the wake," somewhat amplified afterwards in the chapters of "the hermits," which he devoted to the history of st. guthlac:- "the fens in the seventh century," he says, "were probably very like the forests at the mouth of the mississippi or the swampy shores of the carolinas. their vast plain is now in summer one sea of golden corn; in winter, a black dreary fallow, cut into squares by stagnant dykes, and broken only by unsightly pumping mills and doleful lines of poplar trees. of old it was a labyrinth of black wandering streams, broad lagoons, morasses submerged every spring-tide, vast beds of reed and sedge and fern, vast copses of willow and alder and grey poplar, rooted in the floating peat, which was swallowing up slowly, all devouring, yet preserving the forests of fir and oak, ash and poplar, hazel and yew, which had once grown on that low, rank soil, sinking slowly (so geologists assure us) beneath the sea from age to age. trees torn down by flood and storm floated and lodged in rafts, damming the waters back on the land. streams bewildered in the flats, changed their channels, mingling silt and sand with the peat moss. nature left to herself ran into wild riot and chaos more and more, till the whole fen became one 'dismal swamp,' in which at the time of the norman conquest, 'the last of the english,' like dred in mrs. stowe's tale, took refuge from their tyrants and lived like him a free and joyous life awhile." such was one aspect, then, in the early days of english history, of the great plain that stretches from cambridge to the sea. but our map-palimpsest has further physical facts to reveal which had an important influence on the civic and economic development of cambridge. to the south-east of this great plain of low-lying fenlands rises the upland country of boulder clay, stretching in a line almost directly west and east from the downs at royston, thirteen miles below cambridge, to sudbury-on-the-stour. the whole of this ridge of high ground, which roughly corresponds with the present boundaries between cambridgeshire and suffolk and essex, was in the early days covered with dense forest. thus the forest and the fen between them formed a material barrier separating the kingdom of east anglia from the rest of britain. at one point only could an entrance be gained. between the forest and the fen there runs a long belt of land, at its narrowest point not more than five miles wide, consisting partly of open pasture, partly of chalk down. in the neck, so to say, of this natural pass into east anglia lies the town of cambridge. a careful scrutiny of our map will show, on the under-text of our palimpsest, a remarkable series of british earthworks, all crossing in parallel lines this narrow belt of open land between the fen and the forest, marked on the map as black ditches, devil's dyke, the fleam or balsham dyke, the brent or pampisford ditch, and the brand or heydon way. of these the longest and most important is the well-known devil's dyke, near newmarket. it is some eight miles long in all, and consists of a lofty bank twelve feet wide at the top, eighteen feet above the level of the country, and thirty feet above the bottom of the ditch, which is itself some twenty feet wide. the ditch is on the western side of the bank, thus showing that it was used as a defence by the people on the east against those on the west. it was near this ditch that the defeat of the ancient british tribe of the iceni by the romans, as described by tacitus ("annals," xii. 31), took place in a.d. 50.[3] at cambridge itself the ancient earthwork known as castle hill may belong to this british period, and have formed a valuable auxiliary to the line of dykes in defending the ford of the river and the pass behind; but upon this point authorities are divided.[4] indeed, there is good ground for the opinion that the castle hill is a construction of the later saxon period, and may, in fact, be referred to the time of the danish incursions in the ninth century, during which time cambridge is known to have been sacked more than once. however that may be, there is ample proof that the site of the castle at any rate was occupied by the romans, for the remains of a fosse and vallum, forming part of an oblong enclosure within which the castle hill, whether early british or later saxon, is included, seem to indicate the position of a roman station here. moreover, to this place converge the two great roman roads, of which the remains may still be traced: _akeman street_, leading from cirencester (corinium) in the south through hertfordshire to cambridge, and thence across the fen (by the aldreth causeway, the scene of william the conqueror's two years' campaign with hereward) to ely, and so onwards to brancaster in norfolk; and the _via devana_, which, starting from colchester (colonia or camelodunum), skirted the forest lands of essex through cambridge and huntingdon (durolifons) northwards to chester (deva). whether the roman station, however, at the junction of these two roads can be identified as the ancient camboritum is still a little doubtful. certainly the common identification of cambridge with camboritum, because of the resemblance between the two names, cannot be justified. that resemblance is a mere coincidence. the name cambridge, in fact, is comparatively modern, being corrupted, by regular gradations, from the original anglo-saxon form which had the sense of granta-bridge. the name of the town is thus not, as is generally supposed, derived from the name of the river (cam being modern and artificial), but, conversely, the name of the river has, in the course of centuries, been evolved out of the name of the town.[5] to return, however, to the castle hill. it may be doubtful, as we have said, whether the roman station there was camboritum or not, but there can be no doubt that the station, whatever it may have been called by the romans, must have been a fairly important one, not only as commanding the open pass-way between the forest and the fen leading into east anglia, but also as standing at the head of a waterway leading to the sea. it is difficult, of course, to estimate the extent of the commerce in these early days, or even perhaps to name the staple article of export that must have found its way by means of the fenland rivers to the continent, but that it must have been at times considerable we may at least conjecture from the fact that in the records of the sacking of the fenland abbeys--ely, peterborough, ramsey, and crowland--by the danes in the seventh century there is evidence of a great store of wealth, costly embroideries, rich jewels, gold and silver, which can hardly have been the product of native industry alone, but seem to indicate a fair import trade from the continent. the geographical position, in fact, of cambridge at the head of a waterway directly communicating with the sea is a factor in the history of the town the importance of which cannot be exaggerated. in direct communication with the continent by means of the river, and on the only, or almost the only, line of traffic between east anglia and the rest of england, it naturally became the chief distributing centre of the commerce and trade of eastern england, and the seat of a fair which in a later age boasted itself the largest in europe. in his "history of the university," thomas fuller gives an account of the origin of this fair, which is perhaps more picturesque than accurate:- "about this time," he says--that is, about a.d. 1103, in the reign of the first henry--"barnwell,[6] that is, children's well, a village within the precincts of cambridge, got both the name thereof and a fair therein on this occasion. many little children on midsummer (or st. john baptist's) eve met there in mirth to play and sport together; their company caused the confluence of more and bigger boys to the place: then bigger than they: even their parents themselves came thither to be delighted with the activity of their children. meat and drink must be had for their refection, which brought some victualling booths to be set up. pedlers with toys and trifles cannot be supposed long absent, whose packs in short time swelled into tradesmen's stalls of all commodities. now it is become a great fair, and (as i may term it) one of the townsmen's commencements, wherein they take their degrees of wealth, fraught with all store of wares and nothing (except buyers) wanting therein." this description of fuller is obviously a rough translation of a passage from the _liber memorandorum ecclesia de bernewelle_, commonly called the "barnewell cartulary," given at page xii. of mr. j. w. clark's "customs of augustinian canons," and dated about 1296. it is possible, of course, that the celebrated stourbridge fair, which in later centuries was held every autumn in the river meadow, a mile or so below the town, adjoining barnwell priory, did date back to these early times, but its two earliest charters undoubtedly belong to the thirteenth century, one belonging to the reign of king john, granting the tolls of the fair to the friars of the leper chapel of st. mary magdalene, the other to henry iii.'s time fixing the date of the fair for the four days commencing october 17, being the festival of st. etheldreda, virgin, queen and abbess of ely. from this time onward at any rate the annual occurrence of this fair furnishes incidents, not always commendable, in the annals of both town and university. it is said with probability that john bunyan, who in his bedfordshire youth may well have been drawn to its attractions, made the fair at stourbridge common the prototype of his "vanity fair." and certainly any one who will take the trouble to compare the description of the fair given by the cambridgeshire historian carter with the well-known passage in the "pilgrim's progress," cannot but feel that the details of bunyan's picture are touches painted from life:- "then i saw in my dream, that when they were got out of the wilderness, they presently saw a town before them, and the name of that town is _vanity_; and at the town there is a fair kept, called _vanity fair_ ... therefore at this fair are all such merchandise sold, as houses, lands, trades, places, honours, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, pleasures, and delights of all sorts, as whores, bawds, wives, husbands, children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, pearls, precious stones and what not. "and moreover at this fair there is at all times to be seen jugglings, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of all sorts. "and as in other fairs of less moment, there are the several rows and streets under their proper names, where such and such wares are vended; so here likewise you have the proper places, rows, streets ... where the wares of this fair are soonest to be found. here is the britain row, the french row, the italian row, the german row, where several sorts of vanities are to be sold." the historian, it is true, speaks of "the sturbridge fair as like to a well-governed city, with less disorder and confusion than in any other place where there is so great a concourse of people," yet when one reads in bunyan's "progress" of the peremptory court of trial, "under the great one of the fair," ever ready to take immediate cognisance of any "hubbub," one cannot but remember that the judicial rights of the university in the regulation of the ale-tents and show-booths on midsummer common were at least a fertile theme for satire with the licensed wits of both universities, whether of "mr. tripos" at cambridge, or of the "terræ filius" at oxford, and wonder what amount of truth there may have been in the rude statement of the latter that "the cambridge proctors at fair time were so strict in forbidding undergraduates to enter public-houses in the town because it would spoil their own trade in the fair." but as fuller would say, "enough hereof. it tends to slanting and suppositive traducing of the records." let us proceed with our history. and that we may do so let us end this introductory chapter of fable and fact by enforcing the point, of which the incident of stourbridge fair was but an illustration, that cambridge became the seat of an english university, because it had already become a chief centre of english trade and commerce, and had so become because in the early centuries it had stood as guardian of the only pass-way which crossed the frontier line of the kingdoms of mercia and the west saxons and the kingdom of the east anglians, and at a later time had been the busy porter of the river gate, by which the merchandise of northern europe, borne to the norfolk wash and the port of lynn by the ships of flanders and the hanse towns of the baltic, found its way, by the sluggish waters of the cam and the ouse, to a place which was thus well fitted to become the great distributing centre of trade for southern england and the midlands. stourbridge fair is a thing of the past. cambridge as a distributing centre for the trade of northern europe has ceased to be. the long line of river barges no longer float down the stream. the waters of the wash are silting up. the fame of the town has been eclipsed by the fame of the university. but town and university alike may still gaze with emotion at the old timbered wharfs and clay hithes of the river, the green earthwork of the castle hill, the far-stretching roads once known as akeman street and the icknield way, the grass-grown slopes of the devil's dyke, as the symbols of mighty forces which in their day brought men from all parts of europe to this place, and have been potent to make it through many centuries a centre of light and learning to england and the world. chapter ii cambridge in the norman time "at this time the fountain of learning in cambridge was but little, and that very troubled.... mars then frighted away the muses, when the mount of parnassus was turned into a fort, and helicon derived into a trench. and at this present, king william the conqueror, going to subdue the monks of ely that resisted him, made cambridgeshire the seat of war."--fuller. william i. at cambridge castle--cambridge at the domesday survey--roger picot the sheriff--pythagoras school--castle and borough--s. benet's church and its parish--the king's ditch--the great and the small bridges--the king's and the bishop's mills--the river hithes--s. peter by the castle and s. giles church--the early streets of the city--the augustinian priory of barnwell--the round church of the holy sepulchre--the cambridge jewry--debt of early scholars to the philosophers of the synagogue--benjamin's house--municipal freedom of the borough. on the site of the ancient roman station of which we have spoken in the preceding chapter, as guarding the river ford and the pass between forest and fen into east anglia, william the conqueror, returning from the conquest of york in the year 1068, founded cambridge castle, that "it might be"--to quote fuller's words--"a check-bit to curb this country, which otherwise was so hard-mouthed to be ruled." here, in the following year, he took up his abode, making the castle the centre of his operations against the rebel english who had rallied to the leadership of hereward the wake, in his camp of refuge at ely. but the castle at cambridge never became a military centre of importance. no important deed of arms is recorded in connection with it. it was a mere outpost, useful only as a base of operations. it was so used by william the conqueror. it was so used by henry iii. in his futile contest with the english baronage. it was so used by the duke of northumberland in his unsuccessful attempt to crush the loyalist rising of east anglia against his plot to place lady jane grey on the throne. it was so used by oliver cromwell when he was organising the eastern counties association, and forming "his lovely company" of ironsides. but beyond these episodes cambridge castle has no history. in the early part of the fourteenth century it was used as a prison for common criminals. edward iii. built his college of king's hall with some of its materials, and from that time onwards it appears to have been used as a quarry by the royal founders of more than one college. its last remaining outwork, the gate house, was demolished in 1842. now there is nothing left but the grass-grown mound, still known as castle hill, the resort of occasional american tourists who are wise enough to know how fine a view of the town may be obtained from that position, and, so it is said, a less frequent place of pilgrimage also to certain university freshmen who are foolish enough to accept the assurance of their fellows that "at the witching hour of night" they may best observe from castle hill those solemn portents which, on the doubtful authority of the university calendar, are said to happen when "the cambridge term divides at midnight." but if the castle at cambridge, as a "place of arms," had practically no history, much less had the town over which nominally it stood guard. the old streets of cambridge show no sign of ever having been packed closely within walls in the usual mediæval fashion. in the early days the town seems to have been limited to a little knot of houses round the castle and along the street leading down to the river ford at the foot of the castle hill. from the domesday survey we learn that in the time of edward the confessor the town had consisted of 400 dwelling-houses, and was divided into ten wards, each governed by its own lawman ("lageman") or magistrate, a name which appears to suggest that the original organisation of the town was of danish origin. by the year 1086 two of these wards had been thrown into one, owing to the destruction of twenty-seven houses--"pro castro"--on account of the building of the castle, and in the remaining wards no fewer than fifty-three other dwellings are entered as "waste." altogether, in norman times the population of cambridge can hardly have exceeded at the most a couple of thousand. the customs of the town were assessed at £7, the land tax at £7. 2s. 2d. both of these seem to have been new impositions, payable to the royal treasury. how this came about one cannot say, but from this time onward, all through the middle ages, the farm of cambridge appears frequently to have been given as a dower to the queen. [illustration: courtyard of the falcon inn] the earldom of cambridge and huntingdon has been almost invariably held by a member of the royal family. the first steps, indeed, towards municipal independence on the part of the borough were taken when the burgesses demanded the privilege of making their customary payments direct to the king, and ridding themselves of this part, at any rate, of the authority of the sheriff. certainly, there was much complaint made to the domesday commissioners concerning the first norman sheriff of cambridgeshire, one roger picot, because of his hard treatment of the burgesses. among other things, it was said that he had "required the loan of their ploughs nine times in the year, whereas in the reign of the confessor they lent their ploughs only thrice in the year and found neither cattle nor carts," and also that he had built himself three mills upon the river to the destruction of many dwelling-houses and the confiscation of much common pasture. reading of these things one is almost tempted to wonder, whether the old stone norman house still standing, styled, by a tradition now lost, "the school of pythagoras," in close proximity as it is to the river, the ford, and the castle, may not have been the residence of this sheriff or of one of his immediate successors. the house cannot, certainly, be of a later date than the latter part of the twelfth century. originally, it appears to have consisted of a single range of building of two storeys, the lower one formerly vaulted, the upper one serving as a hall. how it came by its present name of "pythagoras school" we do not know, and certainly there is no reason to suppose that it was at any time a school. the norman occupier, however, of this stone house, with his servants and retainers, could hardly have been other than a leading personage in the community, and must have contributed in no slight degree to its importance. possibly it may have been owing to the destruction of houses caused by the clearing of the sites for both this mansion and for the castle, that the dispossessed population sought habitation for themselves on the low lying ground across the ford, on the east bank of the river. whether this was the cause or not, certainly the town on the west bank--"the borough," as the castle end of cambridge was still called in the memory of persons still living[7]--overflowed at an early period to the other side of the river, and gradually extending itself along the line of the via devana, eventually coalesced with what had before been a distinct village clustering round the ancient pre-norman church of s. benedict. this church, or rather its tower, is the oldest building in cambridge and one of the most interesting. it is thus described by mr. atkinson.[8] [illustration: the school of pythagoras.] "the tower presents those features which are usually taken to indicate a saxon origin. it is divided into three well-marked stages, each one of which is rather narrower than the one below it. the quoins are of the well-known long-and-short work (a sign of late date), and the lowest quoin is let into a sinking prepared for it in the plinth. the belfry windows are of two sorts; the central window on each face is of two heights, divided by a mid-wall balister shaft, supporting a through-stone of the usual character. on each side of this window there is a plain lancet at a somewhat higher level, and with rubble jambs. above these latter there are small round holes--they can hardly be called windows. over each of the central windows there is a small pilaster, stopped by a corbel which rests on the window head; these pilasters are cut off abruptly at the top of the tower, which has probably been altered since it was first built; most likely it was originally terminated by a low spire or by gables. the rough edges of the quoins are worked with a rebate to receive the plaster which originally covered the tower. the arch between the tower and the nave springs from bold imposts, above which are rude pieces of sculpture, forming stops to the hood mould. the quoins remaining at each angle of the present nave show that it is of the same length and width as the nave of the original church, and they seem to show also that the original church had neither aisles nor transepts. the chancel is also the same size as that of the early church, for though the east and north walls have been rebuilt, they are in the positions of the saxon walls. the south wall of the chancel has been altered at many different periods, but has probably never been rebuilt. the bases of the chancel arch remain below the floor. the early church was probably lighted by small lancets about three inches wide, placed high in the wall, and without glass." the present nave is of the thirteenth century. the chancel was built as late as 1872. the building which still abuts against the south chancel wall belongs, however, to the fifteenth century, and was a connecting hall or gallery with "the old court" of corpus christi college, which not only took its early name of s. benet from the ancient church, but for some century and more possessed no other college chapel. the bells of s. benet, we read in the old college records, were long used to call the students "to ye schooles, att such times as neede did require--as to acts, clearums, congregations, lecturs, disses, and such like." but this belongs to its story in a later age. the pre-conquest church of s. benet, as we have said, probably served a township separate and distinct from the castle-end "borough" on the west bank of the river. after the two villages became united, the norman grantebrigge, and indeed the mediæval cambridge of later days, seemed to have formed a straggling and incompact town, stretching for the most part along the roman road which crossed the river by the bridge at the foot of castle hill, and so eastward past s. benet's, and onward to the open country, eventually reached colchester across the forest uplands. this roman way, following the line of the modern bridge street, sidney street, s. andrew street, regent street, ran close to the eastern limit of the town, marked roughly at a later time by the king's ditch. this was an artificial stream constructed as a defence of the town by king john in the year 1215. it was strengthened later by king henry iii., who had also intended to protect the town on this side by a wall. the wall, however, was never built, and the ditch itself could never have been much of a defence, except, perhaps, against casual marauders, though for centuries it was a cause of insanitary trouble to the town. branching out of the river at the king's and bishop's mills, just above queen's college, it joined the river again, after encircling the town, just below the great bridge and above the common now called jesus green. the ditch was crossed by bridges on the lines of the principal roads. one of these, built of stone, still remains under the road now called jesus lane. there appears to have been a drawbridge also at the end of sussex street. the river itself, which formed the western boundary of the town, was spanned by two bridges, the great bridge at castle end and the small bridge or bridges at newnham by the mill pond. between the two bridges were the principal wharfs or river hithes--corn hithe, flax hithe, garlic hithe, salt hithe, dame nichol's hithe. these have all now given place to the sloping lawns and gardens of the colleges, the far-famed "cambridge backs." the common hithe, however, below the great bridge still continues in use. it is with certain rights in regard to these hithes that the earliest royal charter of which we have record deals. it is an undated writ of henry i. (1100-1135) addressed to henry, bishop of ely (1109-1131), and attested by an unnamed chancellor and by miles of gloucester and by richard basset. the main object of the king's writ seems to be to make "his borough of cambridge" the one "port" and emporium of the shire. "i forbid"--so runs the writ--"that any boat shall ply at any hithe in cambridgeshire save at the hithe of my borough at cambridge, nor shall barges be laden save in the borough of cambridge, nor shall any take toll elsewhere, but only there." numerous narrow lanes, all now vanished, with the exception of john's lane, gareth hostel lane, and silver street, led down from high street to the quays. the town was intersected by three main streets. from the great bridge ran the streets already mentioned as following the line of the old roman way (the via devana). from this old roadway, at a point opposite the round church, there branched off the high street--now trinity street and king's parade--leading to trumpington gate. parallel to the high street, and between it and the river, ran milne street, leading from the king's mill at the south end of the town, and continuing northwards to a point about the site of the existing sun-dial in trinity great court, where it joined a cross-street leading into the high street. parts of milne street still exist in the lanes which run past the fronts of queen's college and trinity hall. in mediæval times the entrance gateways of six colleges opened into it--king's hall, michael house, trinity hall, king's college, s. catharine's hall, and queen's college. of the most ancient church of the town, that of s. benedict, we have already spoken. of the possibly contemporary church of s. peter by the castle, the only architectural remains of any importance now existing are a rich late norman doorway and the bowl of an ancient font. the tower and spire belong to the fourteenth century. the rest of the building is entirely modern. bricks, however, said to be roman, appear to have been used in the new walls. similarly of the other two ancient castle-end churches, all saints by the castle, and s. giles. of the former nothing now remains and its actual site is doubtful, for the parish attached to it has been united with s. giles ever since the time when in the fourteenth century the black death left it almost without inhabitants. of the church of s. giles there remains the ancient chancel arch of late saxon or early norman character (the familiar long-and-short work seems to date it about the middle of the eleventh century), and the doorway of the nave, which have been rebuilt in the large new church opened in 1875. [illustration: the abbey house] it was, however, from this old church of s. giles by the castle that the first religious house in cambridge of which we have any record, and quite possibly the most important factor in the early development of the university, the wealthy augustinian priory of barnwell, took its origin. the story of that foundation is this.[9] roger picot, baron of bourne and norman sheriff of cambridgeshire, of whose hard treatment the cambridge burgesses complained to the commissioners of the domesday survey, had married a noble and pious woman named hugoline. hugoline being taken very ill at cambridge, and on the point, as she thought, of death, vowed a vow, that if she recovered she would build a church in honour of god and s. giles. "whereupon," says the legend, "she recovered in three days." and in gratitude to god she built close to the castle the church of s. giles in the year 1092, together with appropriate buildings, and placed therein six canons regular of the order of s. augustine, under the charge of canon geoffrey of huntingdon, a man of great piety, and prevailed upon her husband to endow the church and house with half the tithes of his manorial demesnes. some vestiges of this small house (_veteris coenobioli vestigia_) were still extant in leland's time. before, however, this augustinian house had been thoroughly established, earl pigot and his wife hugoline died, committing the foundation to the care of their son robert. robert unfortunately became implicated in a conspiracy against henry i., was charged with treason, and obliged to fly the country. the estates were confiscated, and the canons reduced to great want and misery. in this extremity a certain pain peverel, a valiant young crusader, who had been standard-bearer to robert curthose in the holy land, and who had received the confiscated estates of picot's son, robert, came to the rescue, declaring that as he had become picot's heir, so he would succeed him in the care of this foundation, and increase the number of canons to the number of the years of his own age, namely thirty. he determined also to move the house to a more convenient situation, and accordingly, in the year 1112, he transferred it to an excellent site in barnwell, a mile and a half or so down the river, just off the high-road leading from cambridge to newmarket. this transaction is related as follows:- "perceiving that the site on which their house stood was not sufficiently large for all the buildings needful for his canons, and was devoid of any spring of fresh water, pain peverel besought king henry to give him a certain site beyond the borough of cambridge, extending from the highway to the river, and sufficiently agreeable from the pleasantness of its position. besides, from the midst of that site there bubbled forth springs of clear fresh water, called at that time in english _barnewelle_, the children's springs, because once a year, on st. john baptist's eve, boys and lads met there and amused themselves in the english fashion with wrestling matches and other games, and applauded each other in singing songs and playing on musical instruments. hence by reason of the crowd of boys and girls who met and played there, a habit grew up that on the same day a crowd of buyers and sellers should meet in the same place to do business. there, too, a man of great sanctity, called godesone, used to lead a solitary life in a small wooden oratory that he had built in honour of st. andrew. he had died a short time before, leaving the place without any habitation upon it, and his oratory without a keeper."[10] in this pleasant place accordingly the house was rebuilt on a very large scale, and by the liberality of peverel and his son william richly endowed. in the year 1112, we read in the cartulary that peverel at once set about building "a church of wonderful beauty and massive work in honour of s. giles." to this church he gave "vestment, ornaments, and relics of undoubted authenticity which he had brought back from palestine"; but before he could carry out his intention of completing it, he died in london of a fever "barely ten years after the translation of the canons. his body was brought to barnwell and buried in a becoming manner on the north side of the high altar." by the munificence, however, of a later benefactor, the church was finished and consecrated in 1191, and before the end of the next century the conventual buildings, cloister, chapter house, frater, farmery, guest hall, gate house, were complete, and the priory of augustinian canons at barnwell took its place in the monastic history of cambridgeshire, a place only second probably to that of the great benedictine house at ely.[11] all that now remains of the priory is a small church or chapel standing near the road, and the fragment of some other building. the whole site, however, was excavated for gravel in the beginning of the last century, so that it is impossible to speak with any certainty of the disposition of the buildings, although mr. willis clark, in his "customs of augustinian canons," has from documentary sources made an ingenious attempt to reconstruct the whole plan of the priory. the small chapel of s. andrew the less, although it has long been known as the abbey church, has, of course, strictly no right to that name. obviously it cannot be the church of "wondrous dimensions" built by pain peverel. the chapel, although in all likelihood it did stand within the priory precincts, was most probably built for the use of the inhabitants of the parish by the canons, in order that they themselves might be left undisturbed in the exclusive use of the conventual church. it is a building of the early english style, with long, narrow lancet windows, evidently belonging to the early part of the thirteenth century. [illustration: chapel barnwell priory] the material remains of the priory are therefore very meagre, but a most interesting insight into the domestic economy of a monastic house is afforded by the "_consuetudinarium_; or, book of observances of the austin canons," which forms the eighth book of the barnwell cartulary, to which we have already alluded. a comparison of the domestic customs of a monastic house in the thirteenth century, as shown in this book, and of the functions of its various officers, with many of the corresponding customs and functions in the government of a cambridge college, not only in mediæval but in modern times, throws much light on the origin of some of the most characteristic features of college life to-day.[12] let us retrace our steps, however, along the barnwell road from the suburban monastery to the ancient town. there are still some features, belonging to the norman structure of cambridge, which demand our notice before we pass on. at a point where the high street, now trinity street, branches off from bridge street stands the church of the holy sepulchre, one of the four round churches of england.[13] [illustration: the round church] presumably it must have been built by some confraternity connected with the newly established military order of the templars, and, to judge by the style of its architecture--the only real evidence we have as to its date, for the conjecture that it owes its foundation to the young crusader, pain peverel, is purely fanciful, and of "the ralph with a beard," of which we read in the ramsey cartularies as receiving "a grant of land to build a minster in honour of god and the holy sepulchre," we know nothing--probably between 1120 and 1140. in its original shape, the church must have consisted of its present circular nave with the ambulatory aisle, and in all probability a semi-circular eastern apse. the ambulatory was vaulted, as in all probability was also the central area, while the apse would doubtless be covered with a semi-dome. the chancel and its north aisle, which had apparently been remodelled in early english times, was again reconstructed in the fifteenth century. at about the same time an important alteration was made in the circular nave by carrying up the walls to form a belfry. the additional stage was polygonal and terminated in a battlemented parapet. the norman corbel table, under the original eaves of what was probably a dwarf spire, was not destroyed, and thus serves to mark the top of the norman wall. windows of three lights were not only inserted in the additional stage, but were also substituted for the circular-headed norman windows of both ambulatory and clerestory. "such," says mr. atkinson, "was the condition of the church when, in 1841, the cambridge camden society undertook its 'restoration.' the polygonal upper story of the circular nave, containing four bells, was destroyed; sham norman windows, copied from one remaining old one, replaced those which had been inserted in the 15th century; and new stone vaults and high pitched roofs were constructed over the nave and ambulatory. the chancel, with the exception of one arch and the wall above it, were entirely rebuilt; the north aisle, with the exception of the entrance arch from the west, was rebuilt and extended eastwards to the same length as the chancel; a new south aisle of equal dimensions with the enlarged north aisle was added; and a small turret for two bells was built at the north-west corner of the north aisle; the lower stage of this turret was considered a sufficient substitute for the destroyed vestry. a new chancel arch of less width than the old one was built, and a pierced stone screen was formed above it. in addition to all this, those old parts which were not destroyed were 'repaired and beautified,' or 'dressed and pointed,' or 'thoroughly restored.' what these processes involved is clear from an inspection of the parts to which they were applied; in the west doorway, for instance, there is not one old stone left."[14] across the road from the round church, in the angle of land caused by the branching apart of the high street and the bridge street, was planted one of the earliest jewries established in england. the coming of the jews to england was one of the incidental effects of the norman conquest. they had followed in the wake of the invading army as in modern times they followed the german hosts into france, assisting the normans to dispose of their spoil, finding at usurious interest ready-money for the impoverished english landowner, to meet his conqueror's requisitions, and generally meeting the money-broking needs of both king and subject. in a curious diatribe by richard of devizes (1190), canterbury, rochester, chichester, oxford, exeter, worcester, chester, hereford, york, ely, durham, norwich, lincoln, bristol, winchester, and of course london are all mentioned as harbouring jewish settlements. the position of the jew, however, in england was all along anomalous. as the member of an alien race, and still more of an alien religion, he could gain no kind of constitutional status in the kingdom. the common law ignored him. his jewry, like the royal forest, was outside its domain. he came, indeed, as the king's special man--nay, more, as the king's special chattel. and in this character he lived for the most part secure. the romantic picture of the despised, trembling jew--the isaac of york, depicted for us in scott's "ivanhoe"--cringing before every christian that he meets, is, in any age of english history, simply a romantic picture. the attitude of the jew almost to the last is one of proud and even insolent defiance. in the days of the red king at any rate, he stood erect before the prince, and seemed to have enjoyed no small share of his favour and personal familiarity. the presence of the unbelieving hebrew at his court supplied, it is said, william rufus with many opportunities of mocking at the christian church and its bishops. in a well-known story of eadmer, the red king actually forbids the conversion of a jew to the christian faith. "it was a poor exchange," he said, "which would rob me of a valuable property and give me only a subject." the extortion of the jew was therefore sheltered from the common law by the protection of the king. the bonds of the jew were kept, in fact, under the royal seal in the royal archives, a fact of which the memory long remained in the name of "the star" chamber; a name derived from the hebrew word (_ishtar_) for a "bond." [illustration: oriel windows from house in petty-cury now demolished _to face p. 46_] the late mr. j. r. green, in a delightful sketch on the early history of oxford in his "stray studies," afterwards incorporated into the pages of his "history of the english people," seems inclined to give some support to the theory which would connect the origin of the university with the establishment of the oxford jewry. this theory, however, can hardly be accepted.[15] it is very probable indeed that the medical school, which we find established at oxford and in high repute during the twelfth century, is traceable to jewish origin; and the story is no doubt true also, which tells how roger bacon penetrated to the older world of material research by means of the hebrew instruction and the hebrew books which he found among the jewish rabbis of the oxford synagogue. it is reasonable also to suppose that the history of christian aristotelianism, and of the scholastic theology that was based upon it, may have been largely influenced by the philosophers of the synagogue. it seems, indeed, to be a well-established conclusion, that the philosophy of aristotle was first made known to the west through the arabic versions brought from spain by jewish scholars and rabbis. but it is undoubtedly "in a more purely material way" that, as mr. green truly says, the jewry most directly influenced academic history. at oxford, as elsewhere, "the jew brought with him something more than the art or science which he had gathered at cordova or bagdad; he brought with him the new power of wealth. the erection of stately castles, of yet statelier abbeys, which followed the conquest, the rebuilding of almost every cathedral or conventual church, marks the advent of the jewish capitalist. no one can study the earlier history of our great monastic houses without finding the secret of that sudden outburst of industrial activity to which we own the noblest of our minsters in the loans of the jew." certainly at cambridge, though perhaps hardly to the same extent as at oxford, the material influence on the town of the jewry is traceable. at oxford, it is said that nearly all the larger dwelling-houses, which were subsequently converted into hostels, bore traces of their jewish origin in their names, such as moysey's hall, lombard's hall, jacob's hall, and each of the successive town halls of the borough had previously been jewish houses. we have some evidence of a similar conversion at cambridge. in the first half of the thirteenth century, before we hear either of tolbooth or of guildhall, the enlarged judicial responsibilities of the town authorities made it necessary that they should be in possession of some strong building suitable for a prison. accordingly, in 1224, we find king henry iii. granting to the burgesses the house of benjamin, the jew, for the purposes of a gaol. it is said that either the next house or a part of benjamin's house had been the synagogue of the jewry, and was granted in the first instance to the franciscan friars on their arrival in the city. benjamin's house, although it had been altered from time to time, appears never to have been entirely rebuilt, and some fragments of this, the earliest of cambridge municipal buildings, are perhaps still to be found embedded in the walls of the old town arms public-house--a room in which, as late as the seventeenth century, was still known as "the star chamber"--at the western side of butter row, in the block of old buildings at the corner of market square, adjoining the new frontage of the guildhall. with this relic of the ancient jewry we reach the last remaining building in cambridge that had any existence in norman times. and with the close of this age--the age of the crusades--we already find the cambridge burgess safely in possession, not only of that personal freedom which had descended to him by traditional usage from the communal customs of his early teutonic forefathers, but also of many privileges which he had bought in hard cash from his norman conqueror. before the time of the first charter of king john (1201) cambridge had passed through most of the earlier steps of emancipation which eventually led to complete self-government. the town-bell ringing out from the old tower of s. benet's already summoned the cambridge freemen to a borough mote in which the principles of civic justice, of loyal association, of mutual counsel, of mutual aid, were acknowledged by every member of a free, self-ruling assembly. chapter iii the beginnings of university life "si tollis libertatem, tollis dignitatem."--s. columban. "record we too with just and faithful pen, that many hooded cænobites there are who in their private cells have yet a care of public quiet; unambitious men, counsellors for the world, of piercing ken; whose fervent exhortations from afar move princes to their duty, peace or war; and oft times in the most forbidding den of solitude, with love of science strong, how patiently the yoke of thought they bear ... by such examples moved to unbought pains the people work like congregated bees; eager to build the quiet fortresses where piety, as they believe, obtains from heaven a general blessing; timely rains and sunshine; prosperous enterprise and peace and equity." --wordsworth. monastic origins--continuity of learning in early england--the school of york--the venerable bede--alcuin and the schools of charles the great--the danish invasions--the benedictine revival--the monkish chroniclers--the coming of the friars--the franciscan and dominican houses at cambridge--the franciscan scholars--roger bacon--bishop grosseteste--the new aristotle and the scientific spirit--the scholastic philosophy--aquinas--migration of scholars from paris to cambridge--the term "university"--the colleges and the hostels--the course of study--trivium and quadrivium--the four faculties--england a paradise of clerks--parable of the monk's pen. in the centuries which preceded the rise of the universities, the monks had been the great educators of england, and it is to monastic origins that we must first turn to find the beginnings of university and collegiate life at cambridge. in the library of trinity college there is preserved a catalogue of the books which augustine and his monks brought with them into england. "these are the foundation or the beginning of the library of the whole english church, a.d. 601," are the words with which this brief catalogue closes. a bible in two volumes, a psalter and a book of the gospels, a martyrology, the apocryphal lives of the apostles, and the exposition of certain epistles represented at the commencement of the seventh century the sum-total of literature which england then possessed. in little more than fifty years, however, the latin culture of augustine and his monks had spread throughout the land, and before the eighth century closed england had become the literary centre of western europe. probably never in the history of any nation had there been so rapid a development of learning. certainly few things are more remarkable in the history of the intellectual development of europe than that, in little more than a hundred years after knowledge had first dawned upon this country, an anglo-saxon scholar should be producing books upon literature and philosophy second to nothing that had been written by any greek or roman author after the third century. but the great writer whom after-ages called "the venerable bede," and who was known to his own contemporaries as "the wise saxon," was not the only scholar that the seventh and the eighth centuries had produced in england. under the twenty-one years of the archiepiscopate of theodore (669-690), schools and monasteries rapidly spread throughout the country. in the school established under the walls of canterbury, in connection with the monastery of s. peter, better known in after-times as s. augustine's, and over which his friend the abbot adrian ruled, were trained not a few of the great scholars of those days--albinus, the future adviser and assistant of bede, tobias of rochester, aldhelm of sherborne, and john of beverley. the influence of these and other scholars sent out from the school at canterbury soon made itself felt. in northumbria, too, the torch of learning had been kept alight by the irish monks of lindisfarne, and of melrose and of iona, "that nest from which," as an old writer playing on its founder s. columba's name had said, "the sacred doves had taken their flight to every quarter." while archbishop theodore and the abbot adrian were organising anglo-latin education in the monasteries of the south, wilfrith, the archbishop of york, and his friend benedict biscop were performing a no less extensive work in the north. the schools of northumbria gathered in the harvest of irish learning, and of the franco-gallican schools, which still preserved a remnant of classical literature, and of rome itself, now barbarised. of bede, in the book-room of the monastery at jarrow, we are told by his disciple and biographer, cuthbert, that in the intervals of the regular monastic discipline the great scholar found time to undertake the direction of the monastic school. "he had many scholars, all of whom he inspired with an extraordinary love of learning." "it was always sweet to me," he writes himself, "to learn to teach." at the conclusion of his "ecclesiastical history" he has himself given a list of some thirty-eight books which he had written up to that time. of these not a few are of an educational character. besides a large body of scripture commentary, we have from his pen treatises on orthography, grammar, arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy. his book on "the nature of things" was the science primer of the anglo-saxons for many generations. he wrote, in fact, to teach. at the school of york, however, was centred nearly all the wisdom of the west, and its greatest pupil was alcwyne. he became essentially the representative schoolmaster of his age. for fourteen years, attracted by the fame of his scholarship, students not only from all parts of england and ireland, but also from france and germany, flocked to the monastery school at york. in 782 alcwyne left england to join the court of charles the great and to take charge of the palatine schools, carrying with him to the continent the learning which was about to perish for a time in england, as the result of the internal dissensions of its kings and the early ravages of the norsemen. "learning," to use the phrase of william of malmesbury, "was buried in the grave of bede for four centuries." the danish invader, carrying his ravages now up the thames and now up the humber, devastated the east of england with fire and sword. "deliver us, o lord, from the frenzy of the northmen!" had been a suffrage of a litany of the time, but it was one to which the scholars and the bookmen, no less than the monks and nuns of that age, found no answer. the noble libraries which theodore and the abbots adrian and benedict had founded were given to the flames. the monasteries of the benedictines, the chief guardians of learning, were completely broken up. "it is not at all improbable," says mr. kemble, "that in the middle of the tenth century there was not a genuine benedictine left in england." a revival of monastic life--some attempt at a return to the old benedictine ideal--came, however, with that century. under the auspices of s. dunstan, the benedictine order--renovated at its sources by the cluniac reform--was again established, and surviving a second wave of danish devastation was, under the patronage of king cnut and edward the confessor, further strengthened and extended. the strength of this revival is perhaps best seen in the wonderful galaxy of monastic chroniclers which sheds its light over that century. florence of worcester, henry of huntingdon, william of malmesbury, ingulf, geoffrey gaimar, william de monte, john and richard of hexham, jordan fantosme, simeon of durham, thomas and richard of ely, gervase, giraldus cambrensis, william of newburgh, richard of devizes all follow one another in close succession, while robert of gloucester, roger of wendover, and matthew paris carry on the line into the next age. but apart from the chroniclers, though the monasteries once more flourished in england, the early benedictine ideal of learning did not at once revive. indeed, the tendency of the monastic reformers of the twelfth century was distinctly hostile to the more intellectual side of the monastic ideal. by the end of the century the majority of the benedictine convents had sunk into rich corporations of landed proprietors, whose chief ambition was the aggrandisement of the house to which they belonged. the new impulse of reform, which in its indirect results was to give the thirteenth century in england so dominant a place in the history of her civilisation, came from a quite different direction. almost simultaneously, without concert, in different countries, two great minds, s. francis and s. dominic, conceived a wholly new ideal of monastic perfection. unlike the older monastic leaders, deliberately turning their backs upon the haunts of men in town and village, and seeking in the wilderness seclusion from the world which they professed to forsake, these new idealists, the followers of s. dominic and s. francis, the mendicant orders, the friars' preachers and the friars' minors, turned to the living world of men. their object was no longer the salvation of the individual monk, but the salvation of others through him. monastic christianity was no longer to flee the world; it must conquer it or win it by gentle violence. the work of the new orders, therefore, was from the first among their fellowmen, in village, in town, in city, in university. "like the great modern order (of the jesuists) which, when their methods had in their turn become antiquated, succeeded to their influence by a still further departure from the old monastic routine, the mendicant orders early perceived the necessity of getting a hold upon the centres of education. with the dominicans indeed this was a primary object: the immediate purpose of their foundation was resistance to this albigensian heresy; they aimed at obtaining influence upon the more educated and more powerful classes. hence it was natural that dominic should have looked to the universities as the most suitable recruiting ground for his order: to secure for his preachers the highest theological training that the age afforded was an essential element of the new monastic ideal.... the franciscan ideal was a less intellectual one ... but though the franciscans laboured largely among the neglected poor of crowded and pestilential cities, they too found it practically necessary to go to the universities for recruits and to secure some theological education for their members."[16] the black friars of s. dominic arrived in england in 1221. the grey friars of s. francis in 1224. the dominicans met with the least success at first, but this was fully compensated by the rapid progress of the franciscans. very soon after the coming of the grey friars they had formed a settlement at oxford, under the auspices of the greatest scholar-bishop of the age, grosseteste of lincoln, and had built their first rude chapel at cambridge. in the early days, however, the followers of s. francis made a hard fight against the taste for sumptuous buildings and for the greater personal comfort which characterised the time. "i did not enter into religion to build walls," protested an english provincial of the order when the brethren begged for a larger convent. but at cambridge the first humble house of the grey friars, which had been founded in 1224 in "the old synagogue," was shortly removed to a site at the corner of bridge street and jesus lane--now occupied by sidney sussex college--and that noble church commenced, which, three centuries later, at the time of the dissolution, the university vainly endeavoured to save for itself, having for some time used it for the ceremony of commencement.[17] but of this we shall have to speak later in our account of the foundation of sidney college. but if the franciscans, in their desire to obey the wishes of their founder, found a difficulty in combating the passion of the time for sumptuous buildings, they had even less success in struggling against the passion of the time for learning. their vow of poverty ought to have denied them the possession even of books. "i am your breviary! i am your breviary!" s. francis had cried passionately to the novice who desired a psalter. and yet it is a matter of common knowledge that grosseteste, the great patron of the franciscans, brought greek books to england, and in conjunction with two other franciscans, whose names are known--nicholas the greek and john of basingstoke--gave to the world latin versions of certain greek documents. foremost among these is the famous early apocryphal book, _the testament of the twelve patriarchs_, the greek manuscript of which is still in the cambridge university library. there is no better statement, perhaps, of those gaps in the knowledge of western christendom, which the scholars of the franciscan order did so much to fill, than a passage in the writings of the greatest of all english franciscans, roger bacon, which runs to this effect:- "numberless portions of the wisdom of god are wanting to us. many books of the sacred text remain untranslated, as two books of the maccabees which i know to exist in greek: and many other books of divers prophets, whereto reference is made in the books of kings and chronicles. josephus too, in the books of his _antiquities_, is altogether falsely rendered as far as concerns the chronological side, and without him nothing can be known of the history of the sacred text. unless he be corrected in a new translation, he is of no avail, and the biblical history is lost. numberless books again of hebrew and greek expositors are wanting to the latins: as those of origen, basil, gregory, nazianzen, damascene, dionysius, chrysostom, and other most noble doctors, alike in hebrew and in greek. the church therefore is slumbering. she does nothing in this matter, nor hath done these seventy years: save that my lord robert, bishop of lincoln, of holy memory did give to the latins some part of the writings of s. dionysius and of damascene, and some other holy doctors. it is an amazing thing this negligence of the church; for, from the time of pope damasus, there hath not been any pope, nor any of less rank, who hath busied himself for the advantaging of the church by translations, except the aforesaid glorious bishop."[18] the truth to which roger bacon in this passage gave expression, the scholars of the franciscan order set themselves to realise and act upon. for a considerable time the franciscan houses at both oxford and cambridge kept alive the interest of this "new learning" to which robert grosseteste and roger bacon opened the way. the work of the order at oxford is fairly well known. and in the cambridge house of the order there was at least one teacher of divinity, henry of costessey, who, in his _commentary on the psalms_, set the example of a type of scholarship, which, in its close insistence on the exact meaning of the text, in its constant reference to the original hebrew, and in its absolute independence of judgment, has, one is proud to think, ever remained a characteristic of the cambridge school of textual criticism down even to our own day. * * * * * but if the franciscans, impelled by their desire to illustrate the sacred text, had thus become intellectual in spite of the ideal of their founder, the dominicans were intellectual from their starting-point. they had, indeed, been called into being by the necessity of combating the intellectual doubts and controversies of the south of france. that they should become a prominent factor in the development of the universities was but the fulfilment of their original design. with their activity also is associated one of the greatest intellectual movements of the thirteenth century--the introduction of the new philosophy. the numerous houses of the order planted by them in the east brought about an increased intercourse between those regions and western europe, and helped on that knowledge of the new aristotle, which, as we have said in a previous chapter, england probably owes largely to the philosophers of the synagogue. it is round the university of paris, however, that the earlier history, both of the dominican scholars and of the new aristotle, mainly revolves. here the great system of scholastic philosophy was elaborated, by which the two great dominican teachers, albertus magnus--"the ape of aristotle," as he was irreverently and unjustly called by his franciscan contemporaries--and his greater pupil, thomas aquinas, "the seraphic doctor," vindicated the christian creed in terms of aristotelian logic, and laid at least a solid foundation for the christian theology of the future, in the contention that religion is rational, and that reason is divine, that all knowledge and all truth, from whatever source they are derived, are capable of being reduced to harmony and unity, because the name of christianity is both wisdom and truth. in the year 1229 there broke out at paris a feud of more than ordinary gravity between the students and the citizens, undignified enough in its cause of origin, but in the event probably marking a distinct step in the development of cambridge university. a drunken body of students did some act of great violence to the citizens. complaint was made to the bishop of paris and to the queen blanche. the members of the university who had not been guilty of the outrage were violently attacked and ill-treated by the police of the city. the university teachers suspended their classes and demanded satisfaction. the demand was refused, and masters and scholars dispersed. large numbers, availing themselves of the invitation of king henry iii. to settle where they pleased in this country, migrated to the shores of england; and cambridge, probably from its proximity to the eastern coast, and as the centre where prince louis, in alliance with the english baronage, but a few years before had raised the royal standard, seems to have attracted a large majority of the students. a royal writ, issued in the year 1231, for the better regulation of the university, probably makes reference to this migration when it speaks of the large number of students, both within the realm and "from beyond the seas," who had lately settled in cambridge, and gives power to the bishop of ely "to signify rebellious clerks who would not be chastised by the chancellor and masters," and if necessary to invoke the aid of the sheriff in their due punishment. another royal writ of the same reign expressly provides that no student shall remain in the university unless under the tuition of some master of arts--the earliest trace perhaps of that disciplinary organisation which the motley and turbulent crowd representing the student community of that age demanded.[19] it will be observed that in these royal writs the term "university" occurs. but it must not be supposed that the word is used in its more modern signification, of a community or corporation devoted to learning and education formally recognised by legal authority. that is a use which appears for the first time towards the end of the fourteenth century. in the age of which we are speaking, and in the writs of henry iii., _universitas magistrorum et discipulorum_ or _scholarium_ simply means a "community of teachers and scholars." the common designation in mediæval times of such a body as we now mean by "university" was _studium generale_, or sometimes _studium_ alone. it is necessary, moreover, to remember that universities in the earliest times had not infrequently a very vigorous life as places of learning, long before they received royal or legal recognition; and it is equally necessary not to forget that colleges for the lodging and maintenance and education of students are by no means an essential feature of the mediæval conception of a university. "the university of the middle ages was a corporation of learned men, associated for the purposes of teaching, and possessing the privilege that no one should be allowed to teach within their dominions unless he had received their sanction, which could only be granted after trial of his ability. the test applied consisted of examinations and public disputations; the sanction assumed the form of a public ceremony and the name of a degree; and the teachers or doctors so elected or created carried out their office of instruction by lecturing in the public schools to the students, who, desirous of hearing them, took up their residence in the place wherein the university was located. the degree was, in fact, merely a license to teach. the teacher so licensed became a member of the ruling body. the university, as a body, does not concern itself with the food and lodging of the students, beyond the exercise of a superintending power over the rents and regulations of the houses in which they are lodged, in order to protect them from exaction; and it also assumes the care of public morals. the only buildings required by such a corporation in the first instance were a place to hold meetings and ceremonies, a library, and schools for teaching, or, as we should call them, lecture rooms. a college, on the other hand, in its primitive form, is a foundation erected and endowed by private munificence solely for the lodging and maintenance of deserving students, whose lack of means rendered them unable to pursue the university course without some extraneous assistance."[20] it must be remembered, moreover, that when a mediæval benefactor founded a college his intentions were very different from those which would actuate a similar person at the present day. his object was to provide board and lodging and a small stipend, _not for students, but for teachers_. as for the taught, they lodged where they could, like students at a scottish or a continental university to-day; and it was not until the sixteenth century was well advanced that they were admitted within the precincts of the colleges on the payment of a small annual rent or "pension"--whence the modern name of "pensioner" for the undergraduate or pupil members of the college. indeed, the term "college" (_collegium_), as applied to a building, is a modern use of the word. in the old days the term "college" was strictly and accurately applied to the persons who formed the community of scholars, not to the building which housed them. for that building the correct term always used in mediæval times was "domus" (house), or "aula" (hall). sometimes, indeed, the two names were combined. thus, in an old document we find the earliest of the colleges--peterhouse--entitled, _domus sancti petri, sive aula scholarium episcopi eliensis_--the house of s. peter, or the hall of the scholars of the bishop of ely. in all probability the university in early days took no cognisance whatever of the way in which students obtained lodgings. it was the inconvenience and discomfort of this system, no doubt, which led to the establishment of what were afterwards termed "hostels," apparently by voluntary action on the part of the students themselves. in the first half of the sixteenth century there seem to have been about twenty of these hostels,[21] but at the end of the century there appears to have been only about nine left. there is an interesting passage in a sermon by lever at paul's cross, preached in 1550, which throws light upon this desertion of the hostels, where he speaks of those scholars who, "havyng rych frendes or beyng benefyced men dyd lyve of themselves in ostles and inns, be eyther gon awaye, or elles fayne to crepe into colleges, and put poore men from bare lyvynges." the university then, or, more strictly speaking, the _studium generale_, existed as an institution long before the organisation of the residential college or hall; and as a consequence, for many a year it had an organisation quite independent of its colleges. the university of cambridge, like the university of oxford, was modelled mainly on the university of paris. its course of study followed the old classical tradition of the division of the seven liberal sciences--grammar, logic, rhetoric, music, arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy--into two classes, the _trivium_ and _quadrivium_, a system of teaching which had been handed down by the monastic schools in a series of text-books, jejune and meagre, which were mainly compilations and abridgments from the older classical sources. one such treatise, perhaps the most popular in the monastery schools, was a book by martianus capella, a teacher of rhetoric at carthage, in the fifth century. the treatise is cast in allegorical form, and represents the espousals of mercury and philology, in which philology is represented as a goddess, and the seven liberal arts as handmaidens presented by mercury to his bride. the humour of this allegory is not altogether spiritless, if at times somewhat coarse. here is a specimen. the plaudits that follow upon the discourse delivered by arithmetica are supposed to be interrupted by laughter, occasioned by the loud snores of silenus asleep under the influence of his deep potations. the kiss wherewith rhetorica salutes philologia is heard throughout the assembly--_nihil enim silens, ac si cuperet, faciebat_. so popular did this mythological medley become, that in the tenth century we find certain learned monks embroidering the subject of the poem on their church vestments. a _memoria technica_ in hexameter lines has also come down to us, showing how the monastic scholar was assisted to remember that grammar, dialectics, and rhetoric belonged to the first division of the sciences called the _trivium_, and that the four other sciences belonged to the _quadrivium_:- "_gram._: loquitur; _dia._: vera docet; _rhet._: verba colorat, _mus._: canit; _ar._: numerat; _geo._: ponderat; _ast._: colit astra." in a further classification given by another scholar of the end of the twelfth century, alexander neckham, we have enumerated the four faculties recognised by the mediæval university: arts, theology, law, medicine. "hic florent artes, coelestis pagina regnat, stant leges, lucet jus: medicina viget." such, then, was the cycle of mediæval study. and the student whose ambition it was to become a master of this cycle--a _magister_ or _doctor_ (for in early days the two titles were synonymous) _facultatis_--must attain to it through a seven years' course. in the school attached to a monastery or a cathedral, or from the priest of his native parish, we may suppose that the student has learnt some modicum of latin, "the scholar's vernacular," or failing that, that the first stage of the _trivium_--_grammatica_--has been learnt on his arrival at the university. for this purpose, if he is a cambridge student at least, he is placed under the charge of a special teacher, called by a mysterious name, _magister glomeriæ_, and he himself becomes a "glomerel," giving allegiance oddly enough during this state of pupilage, not to the chancellor, the head of his university, but to the archdeacon of ely. of the actual books read in the grammar course it is difficult to give an account. they may have been few or many. indeed, at this period when the works of aristotle were coming so much into vogue, it would seem as if the old grammar course gave way at an early period to philosophy. in a curious old french fabliau of the thirteenth century, entitled "the battle of the seven arts,"[22] there is evidence of this innovation; incidentally also, a list of the books more properly belonging to the grammar course is also given. "savez por qui est la descorde? qu'il ne sont pas d'une science: car logique, qui toz jors tence, claime les auctors autoriaus et les clers d'orliens _glomeriaus_. si vaut bien chascuns iiii omers, quar il boivent à granz gomers, et sevent bien versefier que d'une fueille d'un figuier vous ferent-il le vers. * * * * * aristote, qui fu à pié, si fist chéoir gramaire enverse, lors i a point mesire perse dant juvénal et dant orasce, virgile, lucain, et elasce, et sedule, propre, prudence, arator, omer, et térence: tuit chaplèrent sor aristote, qui fu fers com chastel sor mote." "do you know the reason of the discord? 'tis because they are not for the same science, for logic, who is always disputing, claims the ancient authors, and the glomerel clerks of orleans, each of them is quite equal to four homers, for they drink by great draughts and know so well how to make verse, that about a single fig leaf they would make you fifty verses. * * * * * aristotle who was on foot knocked grammar down flat. then there rode up master persius, dan juvenal and dan horace, virgil, lucan, and statius, and sedulius, prosper, prudentius, arator, homer, and terence: they all fell upon aristotle who was as bold as a castle upon a hill." and so for the cambridge "glomerel," if aristotle held his own against the classics, dan homer, and the rest, in the second year of his university course the student would find himself a "sophister," or disputant in the logic school. to logic succeeded rhetoric, which also meant aristotle, and so the "trivial" arts were at an end, and the "incepting" or "commencing" bachelor of arts began his apprenticeship to a "master of faculty." in the next four years he passed through the successive stages of the _quadrivium_, and at the end received the certificate of his professor, was admitted to the degree of master of arts, and thereby was admitted also to the brotherhood of teachers, and himself became an authorised lecturer. a post-graduate course might follow in theology or canon or civil law, involving another five or six years of university life. in the course for the canon law the candidate for a doctor's degree was required to have heard lectures on the civil law for three years, and on the decretals for another three years; he must, too, have attended cursory lectures on the bible for at least two years, and must himself have lectured "cursorily" on one of four treatises, and on some one book of the decretals. obviously, if this statutory course was strictly observed in those days, the scarlet hood could never grace the shoulders of one who was nothing more than a dexterous logician, or the honoured title of doctor be conferred on one who had never taught. _disce docendo_ was indeed the motto of the university of cambridge in the thirteenth century. the great constitutional historian of our country, the late bishop stubbs, in one of the wisest and wittiest of his statutable lectures at oxford,[23] speaks of england in this age as "the paradise of clerks." he illustrates the truth of his characterisation by drawing an imaginary picture of a foreign scholar making an _iter anglicum_ with the object of collecting materials for a history of the learning and literature of england. the bishop is able readily to crowd his canvas with the figures of eminent englishmen drawn from centres of learning in every part of the land, from dover, from canterbury, from london, from rochester, from chichester, from winchester, from devizes, from salisbury, from exeter, from s. albans, from ely, from peterborough, from lincoln, from howden, from york, from durham, from hexham, from melrose; scholars, historians, chroniclers, poets, philosophers, logicians, theologians, canonists, lawyers, all going to prove by the glimpse they give us into circles of scholastic activity, monastic for the most part, how comparatively wide was the extent of english learning and english education in the thirteenth century--an age which it has usually been the fashion to regard as barbarous and obscure--and how germinant of institutions, intellectual as well as political, which have since become vital portions of our national existence. from the point of view of a later age there is doubtless something to be said on the other side. _disce docendo_ remained perhaps the academic motto, but the learning and the teaching was still under the domination of monasticism, and the monastic scholar, however patient and laborious he might be and certainly was, was also for the most part absolutely uncritical. he cultivated formal logic to perfection; he reasoned from his premise with most admirable subtlety, but he had usually commenced by assuming his premise with unfaltering, because unreasoning, faith. we shall see, however, as we proceed with our history of the collegiate life of the university, in the succeeding centuries, that the critical spirit which gave force to the genius of the great franciscan teachers, roger bacon and bishop grosseteste, in resisting the tendencies of their age, which found practical application also in the textual interpretation of holy writ in such writings as those of henry of costessey, or in the sagacious "treatise on the laws and customs of england"--the oldest of our legal classics--by ranulf glanville, or in the "historia rerum anglicanum," of the inquisitive and independent-minded yorkshire scholar, william of newburgh, was a factor not to be ignored in the heritage of learning bequeathed by the great men of the thirteenth century to their more enlightened and liberal successors, the theologians, the lawyers, and the historians of the future. there is a mediæval legend of a certain monkish writer, whose tomb was opened twenty years or so after his death, to reveal the fact, that although the remainder of his body had crumbled to dust the hand that had held the pen remained flexible and undecayed. the legend is a parable. some of the lessons of that parable we may expect to find interpreted in the academic history of cambridge in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. chapter iv the earliest college foundation: peterhouse "re unius exemplo omnium quoquot extant collegiorum, fundatori."--_epitaph of walter de merton._ the early monastic houses in cambridge--student proselytising by the friars--the oxford college of merton a protest against this tendency--the rule of merton taken as a model by hugh de balsham, founder of peterhouse--the hospital of s. john--the scholars of ely--domestic economy of the college--the dress of the mediæval student--peterhouse buildings--little s. mary's church--the perne library--the college chapel. the first beginnings of the university of cambridge are, as we have seen in the preceding chapters, largely traceable to a monastic inspiration. the first beginnings of the cambridge colleges, on the other hand, are as certainly traceable to the protest which, as early as the middle of the thirteenth century, it became necessary to make against the proselytising tendencies of the monastic orders. at a time when, as we have seen, the university authorities took no cognisance whatever of the way in which the student was lodged, and when even the unsatisfactory hostel system--eventually organised, as it would appear, by voluntary action on the part of the students themselves--did not exist, the houses of the monastic orders were already well established. we have described the fully-equipped house of the augustinian canons at barnwell. within the town the franciscans had established themselves, as early as 1224, in the old synagogue, and fifty years later had erected, on the present site of sydney college, a spacious house, which ascham long afterwards described as an ornament to the university, and the precincts of which were still, in the time of fuller, to be traced in the college grounds. in 1274 the dominicans had settled where emmanuel now stands. about the middle of the century the carmelites, who had originally occupied an extensive foundation at newnham, but were driven from thence by the winter floods, settled near the present site of queens. towards the close of the century the augustinian friars took up their residence near the site of the old botanic gardens. opposite to the south part of the present gardens of peterhouse, on the east side of trumpington street, were the gilbertines, or the canons of s. gilbert of sempringham, the one purely english foundation. in 1257 the friars of the order of bethlehem settled also in trumpington street, and in 1258 the friars of the sack, or of the penitence of jesus christ, settled in the parish of s. mary the great, removed soon afterwards to the parish of s. peter without the trumpington gate. it was natural, therefore, that these well-equipped houses should hold out great attractions and opportunities to the needy and houseless student, and that complaint should shortly be made that many young and unsuspicious boys were induced to enrol themselves as members of franciscan, or dominican, or other friars' houses long before they were capable of judging the full importance of their action. one cannot read the biographies of even such strong personalities as those of roger bacon or william of occam without surmising that their adoption of the franciscan vow was the result rather of the exigency of the student and the proselytising activity to which they were exposed, than of any distinct vocation for the monastic life, or of their own deliberate choice. "minors and children," as fuller says in his usual quaint vein, "agree very well together." to such an extent at any rate had the evil spread at oxford that, in a preamble of a statute passed in 1358, it is asserted, as a notorious fact, that "the nobility and commoners alike were deterred from sending their sons to the university by this very cause; and it was enacted that if any mendicant should induce, or cause to be induced, any member of the university under eighteen years of age to join the said friars, or should in any way assist in his abduction, no graduate belonging to the cloister or society of which such friar was a member should be permitted to give or attend lectures in oxford or elsewhere for the year ensuing."[24] it is not perhaps, therefore, surprising to find that the earliest english collegiate foundation--that of walter de merton at oxford in 1264--should have expressly excluded all members of the religious orders. the dangers involved in the ascendency of the monks and friars were already patent to many sagacious minds, and bishop walter de merton, who had filled the high office of chancellor of england, and was already by his position an adversary of the franciscan interest, was evidently desirous of establishing an institution which should not only baffle that encroaching spirit of rome which had startled grosseteste from his allegiance, but should also give an impulse to a system of education which should not be subservient to purely ecclesiastical ideas. this is obviously the principle which underlies the provisions of the statutes of his foundation of merton college. bishop hobhouse in his _life of walter de merton_ has thus carefully interpreted this principle:- "our founder's object i conceive to have been to secure for his own order in the church, for the secular priesthood, the academical benefit which the religious orders were so largely enjoying, and to this end i think all his provisions are found to be consistently framed. he borrowed from the monastic institutions the idea of an aggregate body living by common rule, under a common head, provided with all things needful for a corporate and perpetual life, fed by its secured endowments, fenced from all external interference, except that of its lawful patron; but after borrowing thus much, he differenced his institution by giving his beneficiaries quite a distinct employment, and keeping them free from all those perpetual obligations which constituted the essence of the religious life.... his beneficiaries are from the first designated as _scholares in scholis degentes_; their employment was study, not what was technically called "the religious life" (_i.e._ the life of a monk).... he forbade his scholars even to take vows, they were to keep themselves free of every other institution, to render no one else's _obsequium_. he looked forward to their going forth to labour _in seculo_, and acquiring preferment and property.... study being the function of the inmates of his house, their time was not to be taken up by ritual or ceremonial duties, for which special chaplains were appointed; neither was it to be bestowed on any handicrafts, as in some monastic orders. voluntary poverty was not enjoined, though poor circumstances were a qualification for a fellowship. no austerity was required, though contentment with simple fare was enforced as a duty, and the system of enlarging the number of inmates according to the means of the house was framed to keep the allowance to each at the very moderate rate which the founder fixed. the proofs of his design to benefit the church through a better educated secular priesthood are to be found, not in the letter of their statutes, but in the tenour of their provisions, especially as to studies, in the direct averments of some of the subsidiary documents, in the fact of his providing church patronage as part of his system, and in the readiness of prelates and chapters to grant him impropriation of the rectorial endowments of the church." such was the _regula mertonensis_, the rule of merton, as it came to be called, which served as the model for so many subsequent statutes. this _regula_ hugh de balsham, bishop of ely (1257-1286), evidently had before him, when some twenty years after his consecration to the bishopric, he proceeded, by giving a new form to an earlier benefaction of his own, to open a new chapter in the history of the university of cambridge. hugh de balsham, before his elevation to the bishopric, had been sub-prior of the ely monastery, and at first sight therefore it might seem a little surprising that he should have thought of encouraging a system of education which was not to be subject to the monastic rule. but hugh de balsham was a benedictine monk, and the benedictines in england at this time were the upholders of a less stringent and ascetic discipline than that of the mendicant orders, and were, in fact, endeavouring in every way to counteract their influence. it had been the aim of bishop balsham, in the first instance, to endeavour to bring about a kind of fusion between the old and the new elements in university life, between the regulars and the seculars. but this first effort was not fortunate. about the year 1280 he introduced a body of secular scholars into the ancient hospital of s. john. this hospital of the brethren of s. john the evangelist had been founded, in the year of 1135, by henry frost, a wealthy and charitable burgess of the city, and placed under the management of a body of regular canons of the augustinian order. at a somewhat later time, bishop eustace, the fifth bishop of ely, added largely by his benefactions to the importance of the house. it was he who appropriated to the hospital the church of s. peter, without the trumpington gate. hugh of northwold, the eighth bishop, is said, at least by one authority, to have placed some secular scholars there, who devoted themselves to academical study rather than to the services of the church, and he certainly obtained for the hospital certain exemptions from taxation in connection with their two hostels near s. peter's church. the endowment of the secular students was still further cared for by bishop hugh de balsham. in the preamble to certain letters patent of edward i. (1280) authorising the settlement, the bishop, after a wordy comparison, in mediæval phrase, of king edward's wisdom with that of king solomon, is credited with the intention of introducing "into the dwelling place of the secular brethren of his hospital of s. john studious scholars who shall in everything live together as students in the university of cambridge, according to the rule of the scholars of oxford who are called of merton."[25] this document fixes the date of the royal license, on which there can be little doubt that action was immediately taken. the change of system was most unpalatable to the original foundationers and led to unappeasable dissension. the regulars, it may be conjectured, were absorbed in their religious services and in the performance of the special charitable offices of the hospital; while the scholars were, doubtless, eager to be instructed in the latin authors, in the new theology, in the civil and the canon law, perhaps in the "new aristotle," which at this time was beginning to excite so much enthusiasm among western scholars. anyhow, the two elements were too dissimilar to combine. differences arose, feuds and jealousies sprang up, and eventually the good bishop found himself under the necessity of separating the ely scholars from the brethren of the hospital. this he did by transplanting the scholars to the two hostels (_hospicia_) adjoining the church of s. peter, without the trumpington gate, assigning to them the church itself and certain revenues belonging to it, inclusive of the tithes of the church mills. this was in the year 1284, and marks the foundation of peterhouse as the earliest of cambridge colleges. the hospital of s. john, thus freed from the scholarly element, went quietly on its career, to become, as we shall see later, the nucleus of the great foundation of s. john's college. it may have been a disappointment to bishop hugh that he had not been able to fuse together the two dissimilar elements--"the scholars too wise, and the brethren possibly over-good"--in one corporation. but, as baker, the historian of s. john's college, has said: "could he but have foreseen that this broken and imperfect society was to give birth to two great and lasting foundations, he would have had much joy in his disappointment." in the year 1309 the new foundation of "the scholars of the bishops of ely" obtained certain adjoining property hitherto occupied by the friars of the sack (_de penetentia jesu_), an order doomed to extinction by the council of lyons in 1274. its slender resources were further added to on the death of its founder by his bequest of 300 marks for the erection of new buildings. with this sum a considerable area to the west and south of the original hostels was acquired, and a handsome hall (_aulam perpulchram_) was built. this hall is substantially the building still in use. it was left, however, to his successor in the bishopric of ely, simon montagu (1337-1345), to give to the new college its first code of statutes. bishop simon, one is glad to think, did not forget the good intentions of bishop hugh, for in his code of statutes, dated april 1344, he thus speaks of his predecessor:- "desirous for the weal of his soul while he dwelt in this vale of tears, and to provide wholesomely, as far as in him lay, for poor persons wishing to make themselves proficient in the knowledge of letters, by securing to them a proper maintenance, he founded a house or college for the public good in our university of cambridge, with the consent of king edward and his beloved sons, the prior and chapter of our cathedral, all due requirements of law being observed; which house he desired to be called the house of s. peter or the hall (_aula_) of the scholars of the bishops of ely at cambridge; and he endowed it and made ordinances for it (_in aliquibus ordinavit_) so far as he was then able; but not as he intended and wished to do, as we hear, had not death frustrated his intention. in this house he willed that there should be one master and as many scholars as could be suitably maintained for the possessions of the house itself in a lawful manner."[26] there can be little doubt that the statutes which bishop montagu gave to the college represent the wishes of his predecessor, for the peterhouse statutes are actually modelled on the fourth of the codes of statutes given by merton to his college, and dated 1274. the formula "_ad instar aulæ de merton_" is a constantly recurring phrase in montagu's statutes. the true principle of collegiate endowments could not be more plainly stated, and certainly these statutes may be regarded as the embodiment of the earliest conception of college life and discipline at cambridge. a master and fourteen perpetual fellows,[27] "studiously engaged in the pursuit of literature," represent the body supported on the foundation; the "pensioner" of later times being, of course, at this period provided for already by the hostel. in case of a vacancy among the fellows "the most able bachelor in logic" is designated as the one on whom, _cæteris paribus_, the election is to fall, the other requirement being that, "so far as human frailty admit, he be honourable, chaste, peaceable, humble, and modest." "the scholars of ely" were bound to devote themselves to the "study of arts, aristotle, canon law, theology," but, as at merton, the basis of a sound liberal education was to be laid before the study of theology was to be entered upon; two were to be admitted to the study of the civil and the canon law, and one to that of medicine. when any fellow was about to "incept" in any faculty, it devolved upon the master with the rest of the fellows to inquire in what manner he had conducted himself and gone through his exercises in the schools, how long he had heard lectures in the faculty in which he was about to incept, and whether he had gone through the forms according to the statutes of the university. the sizar of later times is recognised in the provision, that if the funds of the foundation permit, the master and the two deacons shall select two or three youths, "indigent scholars well grounded in latin"--_juvenes indigentes scholares in grammatica notabiliter fundatos_--to be maintained, "as long as may seem fit," by the college alms, such poor scholars being bound to attend upon the master and fellows in church, on feast days and other ceremonial occasions, to serve the master and fellows at seasonable times at table and in their rooms. all meals were to be partaken in common; but it would seem that this regulation was intended rather to conduce towards an economical management than enacted in any spirit of studied conformity to monastic life, for, adds the statute, "the scholars shall patiently support this manner of living until their means shall, under god's favour, have received more plentiful increase."[28] an interesting feature in these statutes is the regulation with regard to the distinctive dress of the student, showing how little regard was paid at this period, even when the student was a priest, to the wearing of a costume which might have been considered appropriate to the staid character of his profession. "the students," writes mr. cooper,[29] "disdaining the tonsure, the distinctive mark of their order, wore their hair either hanging down on their shoulders in an effeminate manner, or curled and powdered: they had long beards, and their apparel more resembled that of soldiers than of priests; they were attired in cloaks with furred edges, long hanging sleeves not covering their elbows, shoes chequered with red and green and tippets of an unusual length; their fingers were decorated with rings, and at their waists they wore large and costly girdles, enamelled with figures and gilt; to the girdles hung knives like swords." in order to repress this laxity and want of discipline, archbishop stratford, at a later period in the year 1342, issued an order that no student of the university, unless he should reform his "person and apparel" should receive any ecclesiastical degree or honour. it was doubtless in reference to some such order as this that one of the statutes of peterhouse ran to this effect:- "inasmuch as the dress, demeanour, and carriage of scholars are evidences of themselves, and by such means it is seen more clearly, or may be presumed what they themselves are internally, we enact and ordain, that the master and all and each of the scholars of our house shall _adopt the clerical dress and tonsure_, as becomes the condition of each, and wear it conformally in respect, as far as they conveniently can, and not allow their beard or their hair to grow contrary to canonical prohibition, nor wear rings upon their fingers for their own vain glory and boasting, and to the pernicious example and scandal of others."[30] [illustration: peterhouse college] "the philosophy of clothes," especially in its application to the mediæval universities, is no doubt an interesting one, and may even--so, at least, it is said by some authorities--throw much light upon the relations of the universities to the church. the whole subject is discussed in some detail in the chapter on "student life in the middle ages," in mr. rashdall's "history of the universities of europe," to which, perhaps, it may be best to refer those of our readers who are desirous of tracing the various steps in the gradual evolution of modern academic dress from the antique forms. there it will be seen how the present doctor's scarlet gown was developed from the magisterial "cappa" or "cope," a sleeveless scarlet cloak, lined with miniver, with tippet and hood attached of the same material--a dress which, in its original shape, is now only to be seen in the senate house at cambridge, worn by the vice-chancellor on degree days; how the present gown and hood of the master of arts and bachelor is merely a development of the ordinary clerical dress or "tabard" of the thirteenth century, which, however, was not even exclusively clerical, and certainly not distinguished by that sobriety of hue characteristic of modern clerical tailordom--clerkly prejudice in the matter of the "tabard" running in favour of green, blue, or blood red; and how the modern "mortar-board," or square college cap,--now usurped by undergraduates, and even choristers and schoolboys--was originally the distinctive badge of a master of faculty, being either a square cap or "biretta," with a tuft on the top, in lieu of the very modern tassel, or a round cap or "pileum," more or less resembling the velvet caps still worn by the yeomen of the guard, or on very state occasions by the cambridge or oxford doctors in medicine or law. the picturesque dress of university students of the thirteenth century, still surviving in the long blue coat and yellow stockings, and red leather girdle and white bands of the boys of christ's hospital, is sufficient to show how much we have lost of the warmth and colour of mediæval life by the almost universal change to sombre black in clerical or student costume, brought about by the puritan austerity of the sixteenth century. to return to the fabric of bishop hugh de balsham's college. we have seen how a handsome hall (_aulam perpulchram_) was built with the 300 marks of the bishop's legacy. this is substantially the building of five bays, which still exists, forming the westernmost part of the south side of the great court of the college. the three easternmost bays are taken up by the dining-hall or refectory, the westernmost is devoted to the buttery, the intervening bay is occupied by the screens and passage, at either end of which there still remain the original north and south doorways, interesting as being the earliest example of collegiate architecture in cambridge. the windows of this hall on the south side date from the end of the fifteenth century. the north-east oriel window and the buttresses on the north side of the hall were added by sir gilbert scott in 1870, who also built the new screen, panelling, and roof. at about the same time the hall was decorated and the windows filled with stained glass of very great beauty by william morris. the figures represented in the windows are as follows (beginning from the west on the north side): john whitgift, john cosin, rd. tresham, thos. gray, duke of grafton, henry cavendish; in the oriel--homer, aristotle, cicero, hugh de balsham, roger bacon, francis bacon, isaac newton; on the south side--edward i., queen eleanor, hugh de balsham, s. george, s. peter, s. etheldreda, john holbroke, henry beaufort, john warkworth. after the building of this hall the college evidently languished for want of funds for more than a century. but in the fifteenth century the college began to prosper, and a good deal of building was done. the character of the work is not expressly stated in the bursar's rolls--of which there are some thirty-one still existing of the fifteenth century, and a fairly complete set of the subsequent centuries--but the earliest buildings of this date are probably the range of chambers forming the north and west side of the great court. the kitchen, which is immediately to the west of the hall, dates from 1450. the fellows' parlour or combination room, completing the third side of the quadrangle, and immediately east of the dining-hall, was built some ten years later. cole has given the following precise description of this room:- "this curious old room joins immediately to the east end of the dining-hall or refectory, and is a ground floor called the stone parlour, on the south side of the quadrangle, between the said hall and the master's own lodge. it is a large room and wainscotted with small oblong panels. the two upper rows of which are filled with paintings on board of several of the older masters and benefactors to the college. each picture has an inscription in the corner, and on a separate long panel under each, much ornamented with painting, is a latin distic." ...[31] then follows a description of each portrait--there are thirty in all--with its accompanying distich. as an example, we may give that belonging to the portrait of dr. andrew perne: bibliothecæ libri redditus pulcherrima dona perne, pium musiste, philomuse, probant. _andreas perne, doctor theol. decanus ecclesiæ eliensis, magister collegii, obiit 26 aprilis, anno dom. 1573._ these panel portraits were removed from their framework in the eighteenth century, and framed and hung in the master's lodge, but have since been re-hung for the most part in the college hall, and their latin distichs restored according to cole's record of them. the windows of the combination room have been filled with stained glass by william morris, representing ten ideal women from chaucer's "legend of good women." on the upper storey of the combination room was the master's lodge. the situation of these rooms at the upper end of the hall is almost as invariable in collegiate plans as that of the buttery and kitchen at the other end. the same may be said of that most picturesque feature of the turret staircase leading from the master's rooms to the hall, parlour, and garden, which we shall find repeated in the plans of s. john's, christ's, queen's, and pembroke colleges. about the same period (1450) the range of chambers on the north side of the court was at its easternmost end connected by a gallery with the church of s. mary, which remained in use as the college chapel down to the seventeenth century. this gallery, on the level of the upper floor of the college chambers, was carried on arches so as not to obstruct the entrance to the churchyard and south porch from the high street, by a similar arrangement to that which from the first existed between corpus christi college and the ancient church of s. benedict. the parish church of s. peter, without the trumpington gate, had from the first been used as the college chapel of peterhouse. indeed, the earliest college in cambridge was the latest to possess a private chapel of its own, which was not built until 1628. all that remains, however, of the old church of s. peter is a fragment of the tower, standing at the north-west corner of the present building and the arch which led from it into the church. this probably marks the west end of the old church, which, no doubt, was much shorter than the present one. it is said that this old church fell down in part about 1340, and a new church was at once begun in its place. this was finished in 1352 and dedicated to the honour of the blessed virgin mary. the church is a very beautiful one, though of an unusual simplicity of design. it is without aisles or any structural division between nave and chancel. it is lighted by lofty windows and deep buttresses. on the south side and at the eastern gable are rich flowing decorated windows, the tracery of which is designed in the same style, and in many respects with the same patterns, as those of alan de walsingham's lady chapel at ely. indeed, a comparison of the church of little s. mary with the ely lady chapel, not only in its general conception, but in many of its details, such as that of the stone tabernacles on the outer face of the eastern gable curiously connected with the tracery of the window, would lead a careful observer to the conclusion that both churches had been planned by the same architect. the change of the old name of the church from s. peter to that of s. mary the virgin is also, in this relation, suggestive. for we must remember that it was built at a time--the age of dante and chaucer--when catholic purity, in the best natures, united to the tenderness of chivalry was casting its glamour over poetic and artistic minds, and had already led to the establishment in italy of an order--the _cavalieri godenti_--pledged to defend the existence, or, more accurately perhaps, the dignity of the virgin mary, by the establishment everywhere throughout western europe of lady chapels in her honour. whether alan de walsingham, the builder of the ely lady chapel, and the builder of the church of little s. mary at cambridge--if he was not alan--belonged to this order of the cavaliers of s. mary, we cannot say; but at least it seems probable that the cambridge church sprang from the same impulse which inspired the magnificent stone poem in praise of s. mary, built by the sacrist of ely. at this period peterhouse consisted of two courts, separated by a wall occupying the position of the present arcade at the west end of the chapel. the westernmost or principal court is, save in some small details, that which we see to-day. the small eastern court next to the street has undergone great alteration by the removal of certain old dwelling-houses--possibly relics of the original hostels--fronting the street, which left an open space, occupied at a later period partly by the chapel and by the extension eastward of the buildings on the south side of the great court to form a new library, and subsequently by a similar flanking extension on the north. the earliest of these buildings was the library, due to a bequest of dr. andrew perne, dean of ely, who was master of the college from 1553 to 1589, and who not only left to the society his own library, "supposed to be the worthiest in all england," but sufficient property for the erection of a building to contain it. perne had gained in early life a position of importance in the university--he had been a fellow of both s. john's and of queen's, bursar of the latter college and five times vice-chancellor of the university--but his success in life was mainly due to his pliancy in matters of religion. in henry's reign he had publicly maintained the roman doctrine of the adoration of pictures of christ and the saints; in edward vi.'s he had argued in the university pulpit against transubstantiation; in queen mary's, on his appointment to the mastership of peterhouse, he had formally subscribed to the fully defined roman articles then promulgated; in queen elizabeth's he had preached a latin sermon in denunciation of the pope, and had been complimented for his eloquence by the queen herself. no wonder that immediately after his death in 1589 he should be hotly denounced in the martin marprelate tracts as the friend of archbishop whitgift, and as the type of fickleness and lack of principle which the authors considered characteristic of the established church. other writers of the same school referred to him as "old andrew turncoat," "old father palinode," and "judas." the undergraduates of cambridge, it is said, invented in his honour a new latin verb, _pernare_, which they translated "to turn, to rat, to change often." it became proverbial in the university to speak of a cloak or a coat which had been turned as "perned," and finally the letters on the weathercock of s. peter's, a.p.a.p., might, said the satirists, be interpreted as andrew perne, a protestant, or papist, or puritan. however, it is much to be able to say that he was the tutor and friend of whitgift, protecting him in early days from the persecution of cardinal pole; it is something also to remember that he was uniformly steadfast in his allegiance to his college, bequeathing to it his books, with minute directions for their chaining and safe custody, providing for their housing, and moreover, endowing two college fellowships and six scholarships; and perhaps charity might prompt us to add, that at a time when the public religion of the country changed four times in ten years, perne probably trimmed in matters of outward form that he might be at hand to help in matters which he truly thought were really essential. the perne library at peterhouse has no special architectural features of any value; its main interest in that respect is to be found in the picturesque gable-end with oriel window overhanging the street, bearing above it the date 1633, which belongs to the brickwork extension westward at that date of the original stone building. the building of the library, however, preluded a period of considerable architectural activity in the college, due largely to the energy of dr. matthew wren, who was master from 1625 to 1634. it is recorded of him that "seeing the public offices of religion less decently performed, and the services of god depending upon the services of others, for want of a convenient oratory within the walls of the college," he began in 1629 to build the present chapel. it was consecrated in 1632. the name of the architect is not recorded. the chapel was connected as at present with the buildings on either side by galleries carried on open arcades. dr. cosin, who succeeded wren in the mastership, continued the work, facing the chapel walls, which had been built roughly in brick, with stone. an elaborate ritual was introduced into the chapel by cosin, who, it will be remembered, was a friend and follower of archbishop laud. a puritan opponent of cosin has written bitterly that "in peter house chappell there was a glorious new altar set up and mounted on steps, to which the master, fellows, and schollers bowed, and were enjoyned to bow by dr. cosens, the master, who set it up; that there were basons, candlesticks, tapers standing on it, and a great crucifix hanging over it ... and on the altar a pot, which they usually call the incense pot.... and the common report both among the schollers of that house and others, was that none might approach to the altar in peter house but in sandalls."[32] it is not surprising, therefore, to read at a little later date in the diary of the puritan iconoclast, william dowsing:- "we went to peterhouse, 1643, decemb. 21, with officers and souldiers and ... we pulled down 2 mighty great angells with wings and divers others angells and the 4 evangelists and peter, with his keies, over the chapell dore and about a hundred chirubims and angells and divers superstitious letters...." these to-day are all things of the past. the interior of the chapel is fitted partly with the genuine old mediæval panelling, possibly brought from the parochial chancel of little s. mary's, or from its disused chantries, now placed at the back of the stalls and in front of the organ gallery, partly with oakwork, stalls and substalls, in the jacobæan style. the present altar-piece is of handsome modern wainscot. the entrance door is mediæval, probably removed from elsewhere to replace the doorway defaced by dowsing. the only feature in the chapel which can to-day be called--and that only by a somewhat doubtful taste--"very magnifical," is the gaudy munich stained-glass work inserted in the lateral windows, as a memorial to professor smythe, in 1855 and 1858. the subjects are, on the north side, "the sacrifice of isaac," "the preaching of s. john the baptist," "the nativity"; and on the south side, "the resurrection," "the healing of a cripple by ss. peter and john," "s. paul before agrippa and festus." the east window, containing "the history of christ's passion," is said by blomefield to have been "hid in the late troublesome times in the very boxes which now stand round the altar instead of rails." chapter v the colleges of the fourteenth century "high potentates and dames of royal birth and mitred fathers in long order go."--gray. the fourteenth century an age of great men and great events but not of great scholars--petrarch and richard of bury--michael house--the king's scholars--king's hall--clare hall--pembroke college--gonville hall--dr. john caius--his three gates of humility, virtue, and honour. the dates of the foundation of the two colleges, clare and pembroke, which, after an interval of some fifty and seventy years respectively, followed that of peterhouse, and the names of lady elizabeth, countess of clare, and of marie de valence, countess of pembroke, who are associated with them, remind us that we have reached that troublous and romantic time which marked the close of the long and varied reign of the great edward, and was the seed-time of those influences which ripened during the longer and still more varied reign of edward iii. between the year 1326, which was the date of the first foundation of clare college, the date also of the deposition and murder of edward ii., and the year 1348, which is the date of the foundation of pembroke and the twenty-first year of edward iii., the distracted country had passed through many vicissitudes. it had seen the great conflict of parties under the leadership of the great houses of lancaster, gloucester, and pembroke, culminating in the king's deposition and in the rise of the power of the english parliament, and in its division into the two houses of lords and commons. it had seen the growth of the new class of landed gentry, whose close social connection with the baronage on the one hand, and of equally close political connection with the burgesses on the other, had welded the three orders together, and had given to the parliament that unity of action and feeling on which its powers have ever since mainly depended. it had seen the common law rise into the dignity of a science and rapidly become a not unworthy rival of imperial jurisprudence. it had seen the close of the great interest of scottish warfare, and the northern frontier of england carried back to the old line of the northumbrian kings. it had seen the strife with france brought to what at the moment seemed to be an end, for the battle of crecy, at which the power of the english chivalry was to teach the world the lesson which they had learned from robert bruce thirty years before at bannockburn, was still in the future, as also was the hundred years' war of which that battle was the prelude. it had seen the scandalous schism of the western church, and the vision of a pope at rome, and another pope at avignon, awakening in the mind of the nations an entirely new set of thoughts and feelings with regard to the position of both the papacy and the church. the early fourteenth century was indeed an age of great events and of great men; but it was not an age, at least as far as england was concerned, of great scholars. there was no grosseteste in the fourteenth century. petrarch, the typical man of letters, the true inspirer of the classical renaissance, and in a sense the founder of really modern literature, was a great scholar and humanist, but he had no contemporary in england who could be called an equal or a rival. his one english friend, richard of bury, bishop of durham, book lover as he was--for his _philobiblon_ we all owe him a debt of gratitude--was after all only an ardent amateur and no scholar. when petrarch had applied to richard for some information as to the geography of the thule of the ancients, the bishop had put him off with the statement that he had not his books with him, but would write fully on his return home. though more than once reminded of his promise, he left the disappointed poet without an answer. the fact was, that richard was not so learned that he could afford to confess his ignorance. he corresponds, in fact, to the earlier humanists of italy--men who collected manuscripts and saw the possibilities of learning, though they were unable to attain to it themselves. there is much in his _philobiblon_ of the greatest interest, as, for example, his description of the means by which he had collected his library at durham college, and his directions to students for its careful use, but despite his own fervid love and somewhat rhetorical praise of learning, there is still a certain personal pathos in the expression of his own impatience with the ignorance and superficiality of the younger students of his day. writing in the _philobiblon_ of the prevalent characteristics of oxford at this time, he writes:- "forasmuch as (the students) are not grounded in their first rudiment at the proper time, they build a tottering edifice on an insecure foundation, and then when grown up they are ashamed to learn that which they should have acquired when of tender years, and thus must needs even pay the penalty of having too hastily vaulted into the possession of authority to which they had no claim. for these and like reasons, our young students fail to gain by their scanty lucubrations that sound learning to which the ancients attained, however they may occupy honourable posts, be called by titles, be invested with the garb of office, or be solemnly inducted into the seats of their seniors. snatched from their cradle and hastily weaned, they get a smattering of the rules of priscian and donatus; in their teens and beardless they chatter childishly concerning the categories and the perihermenias in the composition of which aristotle spent his whole soul."[33] it is to be feared that the decline of learning, which at this period was characteristic, as we thus see, of oxford, was equally characteristic of cambridge. certainly there was no scholar there of the calibre of william of ockham, or even of richard of bury, or of the merton realist, bradwardine, afterwards archbishop of canterbury. it is not indeed until more than a century later when we have reached the age of wycliffe, the first of the reformers and the last of the schoolmen, that the name of any cambridge scholar emerges upon the page of history. [illustration: clare college and bridge] but meanwhile the collegiate system of the university was slowly being developed. some forty years after the foundation of peterhouse, in the year 1324, hervey de stanton, chancellor of the exchequer and canon of bath and wells, obtained from edward ii. permission to found at cambridge the college of "the scholars of st. michael." the college itself, michaelhouse, has long been merged in the great foundation of trinity, but its original statutes still exist and show that they were conceived in a somewhat less liberal spirit than that of the code of hugh de balsham. the monk and the friar are excluded from the society, but the rule of merton is not mentioned. two years afterwards, in 1326, we find thirty-two scholars known as the "king's scholars" maintained at the university by edward ii. it seems probable that it had been the intention of the king in this way to encourage the study of the civil and the canon law, for books on these subjects were presented by him, presumably for the use of the scholars, to simon de bury their warden, and were subsequently taken away at the command of queen isabella. the king had also intended to provide a hall of residence for these "children of our chapel," but the execution of this design of establishing a "king's hall" was left to his son edward iii. the poet gray, in his "installation ode," has represented edward iii.-"great edward with the lilies on his brow, from haughty gallia torn," in virtue of his foundation of king's hall, which was subsequently absorbed in the greater society, as the founder of trinity college. but the honour evidently belongs with more justice to his father. it was, however, by edward iii. that the hall was built near the hospital of s. john, "to the honour of god, the blessed virgin, and all the saints, and for the soul of the lord edward his father, late king of england, of famous memory, and the souls of philippa, queen of england, his most dear consort, and of his children and progenitors."[34] the statutes of king's hall give an interesting contemporary picture of collegiate life. the preamble moralises upon "the unbridled weakness of humanity, prone by nature and from youth to evil, ignorant how to abstain from things unlawful, easily falling into crime." it is required that each scholar on his admission be proved to be of "good and reputable conversation." he is not to be admitted under fourteen years of age. his knowledge of latin must be such as to qualify him for the study of logic, or of whatever other branch of learning the master shall decide, upon examination of his capacity, he is best fitted to follow. the scholars were provided with lodging, food, and clothing. the sum allowed for the weekly maintenance of a king's scholar was fourteen pence, an unusually liberal allowance for weekly commons, suggesting the idea that the foundation was probably designed for students of the wealthier class, an indication which is further borne out by the prohibitions with respect to the frequenting of taverns, the introduction of dogs within the college precincts, the wearing of short swords and peaked shoes (_contra honestatem clericalem_), the use of bows, flutes, catapults, and the oft-repeated exhortation to orderly conduct. following upon the establishment of michaelhouse and king's hall, in the year 1326 the university in its corporate capacity obtained a royal licence to settle a body of scholars in two houses in milne street. this college was called university hall, a title already adopted by a similar foundation at oxford. the chancellor of the university at the time was a certain richard de badew. the foundation, however, did not at first meet with much success. in 1336 its revenues were found insufficient to support more than ten scholars. in 1338, however, we find elizabeth de burgh, countess of clare and granddaughter of edward i., coming to the help of the struggling society. by the death of her brother, the earl of gloucester, at the battle of bannockburn, leaving no issue, the whole of a very princely estate came into the possession of the lady clare and her two sisters. having, by a deed dated 6th april 1338, received from richard de badew, who therein calls himself "founder, patron, and advocate of the house called the hall of the university of cambridge," all the rights and titles of university hall, the lady clare refounded it, and supplied the endowments which hitherto it had lacked. the name of the hall was changed to clare house (_domus de clare_). as early, however, as 1346 we find it styled clare hall, a name which it bore down to our own times, when, by resolution of the master and fellows in 1856, it was changed to clare college. the following preamble to the statutes of the college, which were granted in 1359, are perhaps worthy of quotation as exhibiting, in spite of its quaint confusion of the "pearl of great price" with "the candle set upon a candlestick," the pious and withal businesslike and sensible spirit of the foundress:- "to all the sons of our holy mother church, who shall look into these pages, elizabeth de burgh, lady de clare, wishes health and remembrance of this transaction. experience, which is the mistress of all things, clearly teaches that in every rank of life, as well temporal as ecclesiastical, a knowledge of literature is of no small advantage; which though it is searched into by many persons in many different ways, yet in a university, a place that is distinguished for the flourishing of general study, it is more completely acquired; and after it has been obtained, she sends forth her scholars who have tasted its sweets, apt and suitable men in the church of god and in the state, men who will rise to various ranks according to the measure of their deserts. desiring therefore, since this consideration has come over us, to extend as far as god has allowed us, for the furtherance of divine worship, and for the advance and good of the state, this kind of knowledge which in consequence of a great number of men having been taken away by the fangs of pestilence, is now beginning lamentably to fail; we have turned the attention of our mind to the university of cambridge, in the diocese of ely; where there is a body of students, and to a hall therein, hitherto commonly called university hall, which already exists of our foundation, and which we would have to bear the name of the house of clare and no other, for ever, and have caused it to be enlarged in its resources out of the wealth given us by god and in the number of students; in order that the pearl of great price, knowledge, found and acquired by them by means of study and learning in the said university, may not lie hid beneath a bushel, but be published abroad; and by being published give light to those who walk in the dark paths of ignorance. and in order that the scholars residing in our aforesaid house of clare, under the protection of a more steadfast peace and with the advantage of concord, may choose to engage with more free will in study, we have carefully made certain statutes and ordinances to last for ever."[35] [illustration: clare college and bridge.] the distinguishing characteristic of these statutes is the great liberality they show in the requirements with respect to the professedly clerical element. this, as the preamble, in fact, suggests, was the result of a desire to fill up the terrible gap caused in the ranks of the clergy by the outbreak of the black death, which first made its appearance in england in the year 1348, and caused the destruction of two and a half millions of the population in a single year.[36] the scholars or fellows are to be twenty in number, of whom six are to be in priest's orders at the time of their admission. the remaining fellows are to be selected from bachelors or sophisters in arts, or from "skilful and well-conducted" civilians and canonists, but only two fellows may be civilians, and only one a canonist. the clauses relating to the scheme of studies are, moreover, apparently intended to discourage both these branches of law. of the further progress of the college in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries we have no record, for the archives perished in the fire which almost totally destroyed the early buildings in the year 1521. in the seventeenth century, shortly before the outbreak of the civil war, it was proposed to rebuild the whole college, but owing to the troubles of that time it was not until the beginning of the eighteenth century, in the year 1715, that the work was finished. "the buildings are," said the late professor willis, "among the most beautiful, from their situation and general outline, that he could point out in the university." there is extant an amusing account of the controversy between clare hall and king's college, caused by the desire of the former to procure a certain piece of land for purposes of recreation on the east side of the cam, called butt close, belonging to king's. here are two of the letters which passed between the rival litigants. "_the answer of clare-hall to certaine reasons of king's college touching butt-close._ "1. to the first we answer:--iº. that y{e} annoyance of y{e} windes gathering betweene y^{e} chappell and our colledge is farre greater and more detriment to y^{t} chappell, then any benefitt which they can imagine to receiue by y{e} shelter of our colledge from wind and sunne. "2º. that y^{e} colledge of clare-hall being sett so neare as now it is, they will not only be sheltered from wind and sunne, but much deprived both of ayre and light. "3º. that y^{e} remove all of clare hall 70 feet westward will take away little or no considerable privacy from their gardens and walkes; for y{t} one of their gardens is farre remote, and y^{e} nearer fenced with a very high wall, and a vine spread upon a long frame, under which they doe and may privately walke." "_a reply of king's colledge to y^{e} answer of clare-hall._ "1. the wind so gathering breeds no detriment to our chappell, nor did ever putt us to any reparacions there. the upper battlements at the west end haue sometimes suffered from y^{e} wind, but y^{e} wind could not there be straightned by clare-hall, w^{ch} scarce reacheth to y^{e} fourth part of y^{e} height. "2º. no whit at all, for our lower story hath fewer windowes y^{t} way: the other are so high y^{t} clare-hall darkens them not, and hath windows so large y^{t} both for light and ayre no chambers in any coll. exceed them. "3º. the farther garden is not farre remote, being scarce 25 yards distant from their intended building; y^{e} nearer is on one side fenced with a high wall indeed, but y^{t} wall is fraudulently alleaged by them, and beside y^{e} purpose: for y^{t} wall y^{t} stands between their view and y^{e} garden is not much aboue 6 feet in height: and y^{t} we haue any vine or frame there to walke under is manifestly untrue."[37] however, the controversy was settled in favour of clare-hall by a letter from the king. a tradition has long prevailed that clare-hall was the college mentioned by the poet chaucer in his "reeve's tale," in the lines-"and nameliche ther was a greet collegge, men clepen the soler-halle at cantebregge." there appears, however, to be good reason for thinking that the soler hall was in reality garrett hostel, a _soler_ or sun-chamber being the equivalent of a garret. for the tradition also that chaucer himself was a clare man there is no authority. the college may well be satisfied with the list of authentic names of great men which give lustre to the roll of its scholars--hugh latimer, the reformer and fellow-martyr of ridley; nicholas ferrar, the founder of the religious community of little gidding; wheelock, the great saxon and oriental scholar; ralph cudworth, leader of the cambridge platonists; archbishop tillotson and his pupil the philosopher, thomas burnett; whiston, the translator of "josephus"; cole, the antiquary; maseres, the lawyer and mathematician. the foundation of pembroke college, like that of clare hall, was also due to the private sorrow of a noble lady. the poet gray, himself a pembroke man, in the lines of his "installation ode," where he commemorates the founders of the university-"all that on granta's fruitful plain rich streams of royal bounty poured," speaks of this lady as "...sad chatillon on her bridal morn, that wept her bleeding love." [illustration: pembroke college.] this is in allusion to the somewhat doubtful story thus told by fuller- "mary de saint paul, daughter to guido castillion, earl of s. paul in france, third wife to audomare de valentia, earl of pembroke, maid, wife, and widow all in a day (her husband being unhappily slain at a tilting at her nuptials), sequestered herself on that sad accident from all worldly delights, bequeathed her soul to god, and her estate to pious uses, amongst which this is principal, that she founded in cambridge the college of mary de valentia, commonly called pembroke hall." [illustration: pembroke college] all that authentic history records is that the earl of pembroke died suddenly whilst on a mission to the court of france in june 1324. his widow expended a large part of her very considerable fortune both in france and england on works of piety. in 1342 she founded the abbey of denny in cambridgeshire for nuns of the order of s. clare. the charter of foundation of pembroke college is dated 9th june 1348. it is to be regretted that the earliest rule given to the college, or to the _aula seu domus de valence marie_, the hall of valence marie, as it was at first called, is not extant. a revised rule of the conjectural date of 1366, and another of perhaps not more than ten years later, furnished, however, the data upon which dr. ainslie, master of the college from 1828 to 1870, drew up an abstract of its constitution and early history.[38] the most interesting feature of this constitution is the provision made in the first instance for the management of the college by the franciscans, and its abolition on a later revision. according to the first code--"the head of the college was to be elected by the fellows, and to be distinguished by the title of the keeper of the house." there were to be annually elected two rectors, _the one a friar minor_, the other a secular. this provision of the two rectors was abolished in the later code, and with it apparently all official connection between the college and the franciscan order, and it may be perhaps conjectured all association also with the sister foundation at denny, concerning which the foundress, in her final _vale_ of the earlier code, had given to the fellows of the house of valence marie the following quaint direction, that "on all occasions they should give their best counsel and aid to the abbess and sisters of denny, who had from her a common origin with them." [illustration: pembroke college oriels & entrance] the exact date at which the building of the college was begun is not known, but it was probably not long after the purchase of the site in 1346. many of the original buildings which remained down to 1874 were destroyed in the reconstruction of the college at that time. it is now only possible to imagine many of the most picturesque features of that building, of which queen elizabeth, on her visit to cambridge in 1564, enthusiastically exclaimed in passing, "_o domus antiqua et religiosa!_" by consulting the print of the college published by loggan about 1688. of the interesting old features still left, we have the chapel at the corner of trumpington street and pembroke street, built in 1360 and refaced in 1663, and the line of buildings extending down pembroke street to the new master's lodge and the scott building of modern date. the old chapel has been used as a library since 1663, when the new chapel, whose west end abuts on trumpington street, was built by sir christopher wren. the cloister, called hitcham's cloister, which joins the wren chapel to the fine old entrance gateway, and the hitcham building[39] on the south side of the inner court, are dated 1666 and 1659 respectively. all the rest of the college is modern. the early foundation of pembroke college had some connection, as we have seen, with the franciscan order. the early foundation of gonville hall, which followed that of pembroke in 1348, had a somewhat similar connection with the dominicans. edward gonville, its founder, was vicar-general of the diocese of ely, and rector of ferrington and rushworth in norfolk. in that county he had been instrumental in causing the foundation of a dominican house at thetford. two years before his death he settled a master and two fellows in some tenements he had bought in luteburgh lane, now called free school lane, on a site almost coinciding with the present master's garden of corpus, and gave to his college the name of "the hall of the annunciation of the blessed virgin." but he died in 1351, and left the completion of his design to his executor, bishop bateman of norwich. bateman removed gonville hall to the north-west corner of its present site, adjoining the "hall of the holy trinity," which he was himself endowing at the same period. however, he too died within a few years, leaving both foundations immature. the statutes of both halls are extant, and exhibit an interesting contrast of ideal--the one that of a country parson of the fourteenth century, moved by the simple desire to do something for the encouragement of learning, and especially of theology, in the men of his own profession--the other that of a bishop, a learned canonist and busy man of state, long resident at the papal court at avignon, regarded by the pope as "the flower of civilians and canonists," desirous above all things by his college foundation of recruiting the ranks of his clergy, thinned by the black death, with men trained, as he himself had been, in the canon and civil law. it was the bishop's ideal that triumphed. gonville's statutes requiring an almost exclusively theological training for his scholars were abolished, and the course of study in the two halls assimilated, bateman, as founder of the two societies, by a deed dated 1353, ratifying an agreement of fraternal affection and mutual help between the two societies, as "scions of the same stock"; assigning, however, the precedence to the members of trinity hall, "_tanquam fratres primo geniti_."[40] the fellows were by this agreement bound to live together in amity like brothers, to take counsel together in legal and other difficulties, to wear robes or cloaks of the same pattern, and to consort together at academic ceremonies. thus gonville hall was fairly started on its way. it ranked from the first as a small foundation, and though it gradually added to its buildings and acquired various endowments, it did not materially increase its area for two centuries. the ancient walls of its early buildings--its chapel, hall, library, and master's lodge--are all doubtless still standing, though coated over with the ashlar placed on them in 1754. the ancient beams of the roof of the old hall are still to be seen in the attics of the present tutor's house. the upper room over the passage which leads from gonville to caius court is the ancient chamber of the lodge where the early masters used to sleep, very little changed. the old main entrance to the college was in trinity lane, a thoroughfare so filthy in the reign of richard ii. that the king himself was appealed to, in order to check the "_horror abominabilis_" through which students had to plunge on their way to the schools. from time to time new benefactors of the college came, though for the most part of a minor sort; some of whom, however, have left quaint traces behind them. of such was a certain cluniac monk, john household by name, a student in 1513, who in his will dated 1543 thus bequeaths--"to the college in cambrydge called gunvyle hall, my longer table-clothe, my two awter (altar) pillows, with their bears of black satten bordered with velvet pirled with goulde: also a frontelet with the salutation of our lady curely wroughte with goulde; and besides two suts of vestements having everythinge belonging to the adorning of a preste to say masse: the one is a light greene having white ends, and the other a duned taphada," whatever that may be. he also leaves his books, "protesting that whatsoever be founde in my bookes i intend to dye a veray catholical christen man, and the king's letheman and trewe subjecte." this might seem to speak well, perhaps, for the catholicity of the college in the thirty-fourth year of henry viii., and yet thirteen years earlier bishop nix of norwich had written to archbishop warham: "i hear no clerk that hath come out lately of gunwel haule but saverith of the frying panne, though he speak never so holely." anyhow about this time the college became notorious as a hotbed of reformed opinions. it was, however, at this time also that a young student was trained within its walls, who, after a distinguished career at cambridge--it would be an anachronism to call him senior wrangler, but his name stands first in that list which afterwards developed into the mathematical tripos--passed to the university of padua to study medicine under the great anatomist, vesalius, ultimately becoming a professor there, and returning to england, and to medical practice in london, and having presumably amassed a fortune in the process, formed the design of enlarging what he pathetically describes as "that pore house now called gonville hall." on september 4, 1557, john caius obtained the charter for his new foundation, and the ancient name of gonville hall was changed to that of gonville and caius college. in the following year the new benefactor was elected master, and the remaining years of his life were spent, on the one hand, in quarrelling with fellows about "college copes, vestments, albes, crosses, tapers ... and all massynge abominations;" and, on the other, in designing and carrying out those noble architectural additions to the college which give to the buildings of caius college their chief interest. [illustration: gate of honour & gate of virtue caius college] "in his architectural works," says mr. atkinson, "caius shews practical common sense combined with the love of symbolism. his court is formed by two ranges of building on the east and west, and on the north by the old chapel and lodge. to the south the court is purposely left open, and the erection of buildings on this side is expressly forbidden by one of his statutes, lest the air from being confined within a narrow space should become foul. the same care is shewn in another statute which imposes on any one who throws dirt or offal into the court, or who airs beds or bedlinen there, a fine of three shillings and fourpence. in his will also he requires that 'there be mayntayned a lustie and healthie, honest, true, and unmarried man of fortie years of age and upwardes to kepe cleane and swete the pavementes.'"[41] the love of dr. caius for symbolism is shown most conspicuously in his design of the famous three gates of humility, of virtue, and of honour, which were intended to typify, by the increasing richness of their design, the path of the student from the time of his entrance to the college, to the day when he passed to the schools to take his degree in arts. the gate of humility was a simple archway with an entablature supported by pilasters, forming the new entrance to the college from trinity street, or as it was then called, high street, immediately opposite st. michael's church. on the inside of this gate there was a frieze on which was carved the word humilitatis. from this gate there led a broad walk, bordered by trees, much in the fashion of the present avenue entrance to jesus college, to the gate of virtue, a simple and admirable gateway tower in the range of the new buildings, forming the eastern side of the court, still known as caius court. "the word virtutis is inscribed on the frieze above the arch on the eastern side, in the spandrils of which are two female figures leaning forwards. that on the left holds a leaf in her left hand, and a palm branch in her right; that on the right a purse in her right hand, and a cornucopia in her left. the western side of this gate has on its frieze, 'io. caius posuit sapientiæ, 1567,' an inscription manifestly derived from that on the foundation stone laid by dr. caius. hence this gate is sometimes described as the gate of wisdom, a name which has however no authority. in the spandrils on this side are the arms of dr. caius."[42] in the centre of the south wall, forming the frontage to schools street, stands the gate of honour. it is a singularly beautiful and picturesque composition, "built of squared hard stone wrought according to the very form and figure which dr. caius in his lifetime had himself traced out for the architect."[43] it was not built until two years after caius' death, that is about the year 1575. it is considered probable that the architect was theodore havens of cleves, who was undoubtedly the designer of "the great murall diall" over the archway leading into gonville court, and of the column "wrought with wondrous skill containing 60 sun-dialls ... and the coat armour of those who were of gentle birth at that time in the college," standing in the centre of caius court, and of the "sacred tower," on the south side of the chapel, all since destroyed. beautiful as the gate of honour still remains, it must have had a very different appearance when it left the architect's hand. many of its most interesting features have wholly vanished. among the illustrations to willis and clark's "history" there is an interesting attempt to restore the gateway with all its original details. at each angle, immediately above the lowest cornice, there was a tall pinnacle. another group of pinnacles surrounded the middle stage, one at each corner of the hexagonal tower. on each face of the hexagon there was a sun-dial, and "at its apex a weathercock in the form of a serpent and dove." in the spandrils of the arch next the court are the arms of dr. caius, on an oval shield, "two serpents erect, their tails nowed together," and "between them a book." on the frieze is carved the word honoris. the whole of the stonework was originally painted white, and some parts, such as the sun-dials, the roses in the circular panels, and the coats-of-arms, were brilliant with colour and gold. the last payment for this "painting and gilding" bears date 1696 in the bursar's book. dr. caius died in 1573, and was buried in the chapel. on his monument are inscribed two short sentences--_vivit post funera virtus_ and _fui caius_. [illustration: caius college the gate of honour] and so we may leave him and his college, and also perhaps fitly end this chapter with the kindly words with which fuller commends to posterity the memory of this great college benefactor:- "some since have sought to blast his memory by reporting him a papist; no great crime to such who consider the time when he was born, and foreign places wherein he was bred: however, this i dare say in his just defence, he never mentioneth protestants but with due respect, and sometimes occasionally doth condemn the superstitious credulity of popish miracles. besides, after he had resigned his mastership to dr. legg, he lived fellow-commoner in the college, and having built himself a little seat in the chapel, was constantly present at protestant prayers. if any say all this amounts but to a lukewarm religion, we leave the heat of his faith to god's sole judgment, and the light of his good works to men's imitation."[44] chapter vi the college of the cambridge guilds "the noblest memorial of the cambridge gilds consists of the college which was endowed by the munificence of st. mary's gild and the corpus christi gild: it perpetuates their names in its own.... in other towns the gilds devoted their energies to public works of many kinds--to maintaining the sea-banks at lynn, to sustaining the aged at coventry, and to educating the children at ludlow. in embarking on the enterprise of founding a college, the cambridge men seem, however, to stand alone; we can at least be sure that the presence of the university here afforded the conditions which rendered it possible for their liberality to take this form."--cunningham. unique foundation of corpus christi college--the cambridge guilds--the influence of "the good duke"--the peasant revolt--destruction of charters--"perish the skill of the clerks!"--the black death--lollardism at the universities--the poore priestes of wycliffe. "here at this time were two eminent guilds or fraternities of towns-folk in cambridge, consisting of brothers and sisters, under a _chief_ annually chosen, called an alderman. "the guild of corpus christi, keeping their prayers in st. benedict's church. "the guild of the blessed _virgin_, observing their offices in st. mary's church. "betwixt these there was a zealous emulation, which of them should amortize and settle best maintenance for such chaplains to pray for the souls of those of their brotherhood. now, though generally in those days the stars outshined the sun; i mean more honour (and consequently more wealth) was given to saints than to christ himself; yet here the guild of corpus christi so outstript that of the virgin mary in endowments, that the latter (leaving off any further thoughts of contesting) desired an union, which, being embraced, they both were incorporated together. 2. thus being happily married, they were not long issueless, but a small college was erected by their united interest, which, bearing the name of both parents, was called the college of corpus christi and the blessed mary. however, it hath another working-day name, commonly called (from the adjoined church) benet college; yet so, that on festival solemnities (when written in latin, in public instruments) it is termed by the foundation name thereof."[45] so picturesquely writes thomas fuller of the foundation of corpus christi college. the colleges of cambridge owe their foundation to many and various sources. we have already seen two of the most ancient tracing their origin to the liberality and foresight of wise bishops, two others to the widowed piety of noble ladies, one to the unselfish goodness of a parish priest. later we shall find the stately patronage of kings and queens given to great foundations, and on the long roll of university benefactors we shall have to commemorate the names of great statesmen and great churchmen, philosophers, scholars, poets, doctors, soldiers, "honoured in their generation and the glory of their days." one college, however, there is which has a unique foundation, for it sprang, in the first instance, from that purest fount of true democracy, the spirit of fraternal association for the protection of common rights and of mutual responsibility for the religious consecration of common duties, by which the cambridge aldermen and burgesses in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries were striving by their guild life, to cherish those essential qualities of the english character--personal independence and faith in law-abidingness--which lie at the root of all that is best in our modern civilisation, and were undoubtedly characteristic of the english people in the earliest times of which history has anything to tell us. the history of the guild life of cambridge is one of unusual interest. the story breaks off far oftener than we could wish, but in the continuity of its religious guild history cambridge holds a very important place, second only perhaps to that of exeter. all the cambridge guilds of which we know anything seem to have been essentially religious guilds, so prominent throughout their history remained their religious object. it is only indeed in connection with one of the earliest of which we have any record, the guild of cambridge thegns in the eleventh century, associated in devotion to s. etheldreda, the foundress saint of ely, that we find any secular element. that guild does indeed offer to its members a secular protection of which the later guilds of the thirteenth century knew nothing, for they were religious guilds pure and simple. it is true that in the first charter of king john, dated 8th jan. 1201, there appears to be a confirmation to the burgesses of cambridge of a _guild merchant_ granting to them certain secular rights of toll. but there does not appear to be any historical evidence to show that the guild merchant of cambridge ever took definite shape, or stood apart in any way from the general body of burgesses. king john's charter simply secured to the town those liberties and franchises which all the chief boroughs of england enjoyed at the beginning of the thirteenth century.[46] [illustration: the churches of s. edward & st. mary--the great from peas hill] the first religious guild of which we have any record is the guild of the holy sepulchre, known to us only by an isolated reference in the history of ramsey abbey, which tells us of a fraternity existing in 1114-36, whose purpose was the building of a minster in honour of god and the holy sepulchre, and which resulted in the erection of the cambridge round church. of cambridge guild life we hear nothing more until the reign of edward i., when we find record of certain conveyances of land being made to the guild of s. mary. from the first this guild is closely associated with great s. mary's church, the university church of to-day, the church of s. mary at market, as it was called in the early days. the members of it were called the alderman, brethren and sisters of s. mary's guild belonging to the church of the virgin. its benefactors direct that should the guild cease, the benefaction shall go to the celebration of our lady mass in her church. the underlying spirit, however, whatever may have been the superstitious ritual connected with the organisation, was very much the same as that of the english friendly society of to-day. "let all share the same lot," ran one of the statutes; "if any misdo, let all bear it." "for the nourishing of brotherly love,"--so the members of another society took the oath of loyalty--"they would be good and true loving brothers to the fraternity, helping and counselling with all their power if any brother that hath done his duties well and truly come or fall to poverty, as god them help." "the purpose of s. mary's gild was primarily the provision of prayers for the members. the 'congregation' of brethren, sometimes brethren and sisters, met at irregular intervals, to pass ordinances and to elect officers. in 1300 they agree to attend s. mary's church on jan. 2, to celebrate solemn mass for dead members. the penalty for absence was half a pound of wax, consumed no doubt in the provision of gild lights before the altar of our lady. richard bateman and his wife, in their undated grant, made the express condition that in return they should receive daily prayers for the health of their souls.... in the year 1307 ... the gild passed an ordinance directing the gild chaplains to celebrate two trentals of masses (60 in all) for each dead brother. if the deceased left anything in his will to the gild, then as the alderman might appoint, the chaplains should do more or less celebration according to the amount bequeathed to the gild. the rule is naïve, but its spirit is unpleasing. individualism has thrust itself in where it seems very much out of place. the enrolment of the souls of the dead further witnesses to the purely religious character of the gild, and the purchase of a missal should also be noticed."[47] the minutes and bede roll of the guild, which have lately been published by the cambridge antiquarian society, show that the association continued to flourish down to the time of the great plague. on its bede roll we find such names as those of richard hokyton, vicar of the round church; of "alan parson of seint beneytis chirche"; of warinus bassingborn, high sheriff of cambridgeshire in 1341; of walter reynald, chancellor of the university and archbishop of canterbury, who died in 1327; and of richard of bury, bishop of durham, and author of the _philobiblon_, who died in 1345. in 1352, on "account of poverty," the guild, by royal charter, was allowed to coalesce with the guild of corpus christi, for the purpose of founding a college. of this latter guild we have no earlier record than 1349, three years only before the date of union with s. mary's. its minute-book, however, which begins in 1350, shows it to have been at that time a flourishing institution. it had probably been founded, like that which bore the same dedication at york, for the purpose of conducting the procession on the feast of corpus christi on the thursday after trinity sunday, a festival instituted about 1264. there are no existing bede rolls of the guild, and therefore no means of knowing the names of any members who entered before 1350. it appears to have been attached from the first to the ancient church of s. benet. the reversion of the advowson of that church was in 1350 held by a group of men, several of whom were leading members of the guild. in 1353 the then rector entered the guild, and "by the ordinance of his friends" resigned the church to the bishop "gratis," that "_the brethren_ and those who had acquired the advowson" might enter upon their possession. it is disappointing to find that there are no guild records telling of the union of s. mary's guild with that of corpus christi, or of the circumstances which led to the creation of the college bearing the joint names of the two guilds. such foundation was, as we have said, a remarkable event in the history of cambridge collegiate life. not that these guilds were the first or the last to take part in the endowment of education; for many of the ancient grammar schools of the country owe their origin to, or were greatly assisted by, the benefactions of religious guilds. for example, mr. leach in his "english schools at the reformation" has noted, that out of thirty-three guilds, of whose returns he treats, no less than twenty-eight were supporting grammar schools. but the foundation of a college was a more ambitious task. it has a peculiar interest also, as that of an effort towards the healing of what was, even at this time, an outstanding feud between town and gown, between city and university. the principal authority for the history of the site and buildings of the college is the _historiola_ of josselin, a fellow of queen's college, and latin secretary to archbishop parker. according to his narrative, the guild of corpus christi had begun seriously to entertain the idea of building a college as early as 1342, for about that date, he says:- "those brethren who lived in the parishes of s. benedict and s. botolph, and happened to have tenements and dwelling-houses close together in the street called leithburne lane, pulled them down, and with one accord set about the task of establishing a college there: having also acquired certain other tenements in the same street from the university. by this means they cleared a site for their college, square in form and as broad as the space between the present gate of entrance (_i.e._ by s. benet's church) and the master's garden."[48] the original mover in the scheme for a guild college may well have been the future master, thomas of eltisley, chaplain to the archbishop of canterbury and rector of lambeth. among the cambridge burgesses william horwood, the mayor, was treasurer of the guild in 1352, and used the mayoral seal for guild purposes, because the seals of the alderman and brethren of the guild "are not sufficiently well known." another mayor of cambridge about this time, robert de brigham, was a member of the other associated guild of s. mary. how the support of henry, duke of lancaster--the "good duke," as he was called--was secured does not appear, but he is mentioned as alderman of the guild, in the letters patent of edward iii. in 1352, establishing the college. his influence perhaps may have been gained through sir walter manny, the countryman and friend of queen philippa, whose whole family was enrolled in the guild. at any rate, with the enrolment of the "good duke" as alderman of the guild, the success of the proposed college was secure. in 1355 the foundation received the formal consent of the chancellor and masters of the university, of the bishop of ely, and of the prior and chapter of ely. the college statutes, dated in the following year, 1356, show that "the chaplain and scholars were bound to appear in s. benet's or s. botulph's church at certain times, and in all masses the chaplains were to celebrate for the health of the king and queen philippa and their children, and the duke of lancaster, and the brethren and sisters, founders and benefactors of the guild and college," and although this perhaps, rather than the love of learning, pure and simple, was the chief aim which influenced the early founders of corpus christi college, the society has in after ages held a worthy place in the history of the university, and "benet men" have occupied positions in church and state quite equal to those of more ample foundations. three archbishops of canterbury--parker, tennison, and herring--have been corpus men, one of whom, matthew parker, enriched it with priceless treasures, and gave to its library a unique value by the bequest of what fuller has called "the sun of english antiquity." indeed, if they have done nothing else, the men of the cambridge guilds have laid all students of english history under a supreme debt of gratitude in the provision of a place where so many of the mss. so laboriously collected by archbishop parker are housed and preserved. from the walls of benet college, also, there went out many other distinguished men: statesmen, like nicholas bacon, the lord keeper of the seal; bishops, like thomas goodrich and peter gunning, of ely; translators of the scriptures, like taverner, and huett, and pierson; commentators on the old testament, like the learned and ingenious dean spencer of ely, the wellhausen of the seventeenth century; soldiers, like the brave earl of lindsey, who fell at edgehill, or like general braddock, who was killed in ohio in the colonial war against the french; learned antiquaries, like richard gough; sailors, like cavendish, the circumnavigator; poets, like christopher marlowe and john fletcher. [illustration: corpus christi college and s. benedict's church] the college as originally built consisted of one court, which still remains, and is known as "the old court." it still preserves much of its ancient character, and is specially interesting as being probably _the first originally planned quadrangle_. josselin speaks of it as being "entirely finished, chiefly in the days of thomas eltisle, the first master, but partly in the days of richard treton, the second master." it consisted simply of a hall range on the south and chambers on the three other sides. the former contained at the south-east corner the master's chambers, communicating with the common parlour below, and also with the library and hall. as in most of the early colleges, both the gateway tower and the chapel were absent. the entrance was by an archway of the simplest character in the north range, opening into the southern part of the churchyard of s. benet, and thus communicating with free school lane, running past the east end of the church, or northwards past the old west tower, with benet street. at the end of the fifteenth century two small chapels, one above the other, were built adjoining the south side of s. benet's chancel. they were connected with the college buildings by a gallery carried on arches like that already described in connection with peterhouse. this picturesque building still exists. s. benet's church was used as the college chapel down to the beginning of the seventeenth century, when a new chapel was built, mainly due to the liberality of sir nicholas bacon, lord keeper of the great seal. this chapel occupied nearly the same site as the western part of the present building, which took its place in 1823, as part of the scheme of buildings which gave to corpus the large new court with frontage to trumpington street. the principal feature of these buildings is the new library occupying the whole of the upper floor of the range of building on the south side of the quadrangle. it is here that the celebrated collection of ancient mss. collected by archbishop parker are housed. they contain, among many other treasures, the winchester text of the "old english chronicle," that great national record, which at the bidding of king alfred, in part quite probably under his own eye, was written in the scriptorium of winchester cathedral; ancient copies of the "penitentiale" of archbishop theodore; king alfred's translation of pope gregory's "pastorale"; matthew paris' own copy of his "history"; a copy of "john of salisbury" which once belonged to thomas à becket; the peterborough "psalter"; chaucer's "troilus," with a splendid frontispiece of 1450; a magnificent folio of homer's "iliad" and "odyssey"--a note by josselin tells how "a baker at canterbury rescued it from among some waste paper, remaining from s. augustine's monastery after the dissolution," and how the archbishop welcomed it as "a monstrous treasure"; and jerome's latin version of the "four gospels," sent by pope gregory to augustine, the first archbishop of canterbury, "the most interesting manuscript in england." no wonder that in handing over such a priceless gift to the charge of the college, archbishop parker should have striven to secure its future safety by this stringent regulation set out in his deed of gift. " ...that nothing be wanting for their more careful preservation, the masters of gonville and caius college and of trinity hall, or their substitutes, are appointed annual supervisors on the 6th of august; on which occasion they are to be invited to dinner with two scholars of his foundation in those colleges; when each of the former is to have 3s. 4d. and the scholars 1s. a piece for their trouble in overlooking them; at which time they may inflict a penalty of 4d. for every leaf of ms. that may be found wanting; for every sheet, 2s.; and for every printed book or ms. missing, and not restored within six months after admonition, what sum they think proper. but if 6 mss. in folio, 8 in quarto, and 12 in lesser size, should at any time be lost through supine negligence, and not restored within 6 months, then with the consent of the vice-chancellor and one senior doctor, not only all the books but likewise all the plate he gave shall be forfeited and surrendered up to gonville and caius college within a month following. and if they should afterwards be guilty of the like neglect they are then to be delivered over to trinity hall, and in case of their default to revert back in the former order. three catalogues of these books were directed to be made, whereof one was to be delivered to each college, which was to be sealed with their common seal and exhibited at every visitation." [illustration: the pitt press, s. botolph's church, and corpus christie college] we have spoken of the early foundation of the guild college as in some sense an effort on the part of the cambridge burgesses of the fourteenth century to take some worthy share in the development of university life. unfortunately the good feeling between town and gown was not of long duration. as the older burgesses who had been brethren of the gilds of corpus christi and s. mary died off, an estrangement sprang up between the members of the college they had founded and the new generation of townsmen. the initial cause of trouble arose from the character of some of the early endowments of the college. it would seem that in addition to the many houses and tenements in the town which had been bequeathed to the college, a particularly objectional rate in the form of "candle rent" was exacted by the college authorities. it is said that so numerous were the cambridge tenements subjected to this rate, that one-half of the houses in the town had become tributary to the college. the townsmen did not long confine themselves to mere murmuring or "passive resistance." in 1381 the populace, taking advantage of the excitement caused by the wat tyler rebellion, vented their animosity and unreasoning hatred of learning by the destruction of all the college books, charters, and writings, and everything that bespoke a lettered community on the saturday next after the feast of corpus christi, prompted perhaps by their hatred of the pomp and display of wealth in connection with the great annual procession of the host through the streets. the bailiffs and commonalty of cambridge, so we read in the old record, assembled in the town hall and elected james of grantchester their captain. "then going to corpus christi college, breaking open the house and doors, they traitorously carried away the charters, writings, and muniments." on the following sunday they caused the great bell of s. mary's church to be rung, and there broke open the university chest. the masters and scholars under intimidation surrendered all their charters, muniments, ordinances, and a grand conflagration ensued in the market-place. one old woman, margaret steere, gathered the ashes in her hands and flung them into the air with the cry, "thus perish the skill of the clerks! away with it! away with it!" having finished their work of destruction in the market-place, the crowd of rioters marched out to barnwell, "doing," so fuller tells the story, "many sacrilegious outrages to the priory there. nor did their fury fall on men alone, even trees were made to taste of their cruelty. in their return they cut down a curious grove called green's croft by the river side (the ground now belonging to jesus college), as if they bare such a hatred to all wood they would not leave any to make gallows thereof for thieves and murderers. all these insolencies were acted just at that juncture of time when jack straw and wat tyler played rex in and about london. more mischief had they done to the scholars had not henry spencer, the warlike bishop of norwich, casually come to cambridge with some forces and seasonably suppressed their madness."[49] and so the story of the seven earliest of the cambridge colleges closes in a time of social misery and of national peril. the collapse of the french war after crecy, and the ruinous taxation of the country which was consequent upon it, the terrible plague of the black death sweeping away half the population of england, and the iniquitous labour laws, which in face of that depopulation strove to keep down the rate of wages in the interests of the landlords, had brought the country to the verge of a wide, universal, social, political revolution. it was no time, perhaps, in which to look for any great national advance in scholarship or learning, much less for new theories of education or of academic progress. it is not certainly in the subtle realist philosophy and the dry syllogistic latin of the _de dominio divino_ of john wycliffe, the greatest oxford schoolman of his age, but in the virile, homely english tracts, terse and vehement, which john wycliffe, the reformer, wrote for the guidance of his "poore priestes" (and in which, incidentally, he made once more the english tongue a weapon of literature), that we find the new forces of thought and feeling which were destined to tell on every age of our later history. it is not in the good-humoured, gracious worldliness of the poet chaucer--most true to the english life of his own day as is the varied picture of his "canterbury tales"--but in the rustic shrewdness and surly honesty of "peterkin the plowman" in william langland's great satire, that we find the true "note" of english religion, that godliness, grim, earnest, and puritan, which was from henceforth to exercise so deep an influence on the national character. but while what was good in the lollard spirit survived, the lollards themselves, with the death of wycliffe and of john of gaunt, his great friend and protector, fell upon evil times. their revolution by force had almost succeeded. for a short time they were masters of the field. but with the passing of the immediate terror of the peasant revolt, the conservative forces of the state rallied to the protection of that social order, whose very existence the lollards had, by their ferocious extravagance and frantic communism, seemed to threaten. the wiser contemporaries of this movement agreed to abandon its provocations and to consign it to oblivion or misconception. at oxford, the government threatened to suppress the university itself unless the lollards were displaced. and oxford, to outward appearance, submitted. its lollard chancellor was dismissed. the "poore priestes" and preachers were silenced, or departed to spread the new gospel of the "bible-men" across the sea. some recanted and became bishops, cardinals, persecutors. but many remained obscure or silent and cautious. thomas arundel, archbishop of canterbury, speaking of oxford, said that there were wild vines in the university, and therefore little grapes; that tares were constantly sown among the pure wheat, and that the whole university was leavened with heresy. "you cannot meet," said a monkish historian, "five people talking together but three of them are lollards." at cambridge, on the 16th september 1401, holding a visitation in the congregation house, the archbishop had privately put to the chancellor and the doctors ten questions with regard to the discipline of the university. one question was significant: "_were there any_," the archbishop asked, "_suspected of lollardism?_" the terrible and infamous statute, "de heretico comburendo," had been passed in the previous year, and but a few months before the first victim of that enactment had been burnt at the stake. it is an historic saying, that "cambridge bred the founders of the english reformation and that oxford burnt them." the statement is not without its grain of truth. the puritan reformation of the sixteenth century found, no doubt, its strongest adherents in the eastern counties of england; but it was not so much because the scholars of cambridge welcomed more heartily than their brothers in the western university the teaching of the scholars of geneva, but because the people of east anglia, two centuries before, had been saturated with the bible teaching of the "poore priestes" of wycliffe's school, and throughout the whole of the intervening period had secretly cherished it. for the present, however, the curtain drops on the age of the schoolmen with the death of wycliffe. when it rises again, we shall find ourselves in the age of the new learning. what the transition was from one time to the other, how deeply the revival of learning influenced the reformation of religion, we shall hear in the succeeding chapters. chapter vii two royal foundations "tax not the royal saint with vain expense, with ill-matched aims the architect who planned, albeit labouring for a scanty band of white-robed scholars only--this immense and glorious work of fine intelligence! give all thou can'st: high heaven rejects the lore of nicely calculated less or more; so deemed the man who fashioned for the sense these lofty pillars, spread that branching roof, self-poised, and scooped into ten thousand cells, where light and shade repose, where music dwells lingering--and wandering on as loth to die; like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof that they were born for immortality." --wordsworth's _sonnet on king's college chapel_. henry vi.--the most pitiful character in all english history--his devotion to learning and his saintly spirit--his foundation of eton and king's college--the building of king's college chapel--its architect, reginald of ely, the cathedral master-mason--its relation to the ely lady chapel--its stained glass windows--its close foundation--queens' college--margaret of anjou and elizabeth wydville--the buildings of queens'--similarity to haddon hall--its most famous resident, erasmus--his _novum instrumentum_ edited within its walls. on the 6th of december 1421, being s. nicolas' day, the unhappy henry of windsor was born. on the 1st of september in the following year, as an infant of less than a year old, he began his reign of forty miserable years as henry vi. there is no more pitiful character in all english history than he. henry v., his father, had been by far the greatest king of christendom, and england, under his rule, had rejoiced in a light which was all the brighter for the gloom that preceded and followed it. the dying energies of mediæval life sank into impotency with his death. the long reign of his son is one unbroken record of divided counsels, constitutional anarchy, civil war, national exhaustion; only too faithfully fulfilling the prophecy which his father is said to have uttered, when he was told in france of the birth of his son at windsor: "i, henry of monmouth, shall gain much in my short reign, but henry of windsor will reign much longer and lose all; but god's will be done." "henry vi."--i quote the pathetic words of my kinsman, the historian of the constitution- "henry was perhaps the most unfortunate king who ever reigned; he outlived power and wealth and friends; he saw all who had loved him perish for his sake, and, to crown all, the son, the last and dearest of the great house from which he sprang, the centre of all his hopes, the depositary of the great lancastrian traditions of english polity, set aside and slain. and he was without doubt most innocent of all the evils that befell england because of him. pious, pure, generous, patient, simple, true and just, humble, merciful, fastidiously conscientious, modest and temperate, he might have seemed made to rule a quiet people in quiet times.... it is needless to say that for the throne of england in the midst of the death struggle of nations, parties, and liberties, henry had not one single qualification."[50] [illustration: king's parade] and yet he did leave an impression on the hearts of englishmen which will not readily be erased. for setting aside the fabled visions and the false miracle with which he is credited, and upon which henry vii. relied when he pressed the claims of his predecessor for formal canonisation on pope julius ii., it was certainly no mere anti-lancastrian loyalty or party spirit which led the rough yeomen farmers of yorkshire to worship before his statue on the rood-screen of their minster and to sing hymns in his honour, or caused the latin prayers which he had composed to be reverently handed down to the time of the reformation through many editions of the "sarum hours." one enduring monument there is of his devotion to learning and of his saintly spirit, which must long keep his memory green, namely, the royal and religious foundation of the two great colleges which he projected at eton and at cambridge. of eton we need not speak. the fame of that college is written large on the page of english history. and that fame and its founder's memory we may safely leave to the "scholars of henry" in its halls and playing fields to-day. "christ and his mother, heavenly maid, mary, in whose fair name was laid eton's corner, bless our youth with truth, and purity, mother of truth! o ye, 'neath breezy skies of june, by silver thames' lulling tune, in shade of willow or oak, who try the golden gates of poesy; or on the tabled sward all day match your strength in england's play, scholars of henry giving grace to toil and force in game or race; exceed the prayer and keep the fame of him, the sorrowful king who came here in his realm, a realm to found where he might stand for ever crowned."[51] it was on the 12th of february 1441, when henry of windsor was only nineteen years old, that the first charter for the foundation of king's college, cambridge, was signed. on the 2nd of april in the same year he laid the first stone. it is difficult to say from whence the first impulse to the patronage of learning came to the king. he had always been a precocious scholar, too early forced to recognise his work as successor to his father. something of his uncle duke humfrey of gloucester's ardent love of letters he had imbibed at an early age. no doubt, too, the earl of warwick, "the king's master" for eighteen years, had faithfully discharged his duty to "teach him nurture, literature, language, and other manner of cunning as his age shall suffer him to comprehend such as it fitteth so great a prince to be learned of," and had made his royal pupil a good scholar and accomplished gentleman: though perhaps he had suffered the young king's mind to take somewhat too ascetic and ecclesiastic a bent for the hard and perilous times which he had to face: a feature of his character which shakespeare emphasises in the speech which he puts into the mouth of margaret of anjou, his affianced bride, in the first act of the play in which he draws the picture of the decay of england's power under the weak and saintly lancastrian king with so masterly a pencil:-"i thought king henry had resembled (pole) in courage, courtship, and proportion: but all his mind is bent to holiness, to number _ave-maries_ on his beads: his champions are the prophets and apostles: his weapons holy saws of sacred writ: his study is his tilt-yard, and his loves are brazen images o' canonized saints. i would the college or the cardinals would choose him pope, and carry him to rome, and set the triple crown upon his head: that were a state fit for his holiness."[52] however, the first fruits of the royal "holiness" was a noble conception. a visit to winchester in the july of 1440, where henry studied carefully from personal observation the working of william of wykeham's system of education, seems to have fired him with the desire to rival that great pioneer of schoolcraft's magnificent foundations at winchester and oxford. the suppression of the alien priories, decreed by parliament in the preceding reign and carried out in his own, provided a convenient means of carrying out the project. henry v. had already appropriated their revenues for the purposes of war in france. henry vi. proceeded to confiscate them permanently as an endowment for his college foundations. it would appear, however, that the first intention of the king had been that his two foundations should have been independent of one another, and that the connection of eton with king's, after the manner of winchester and new college, came rather as an afterthought and as part of a later scheme. the determination, however, that the eton scholars should participate in the cambridge foundation forms part of the king's scheme in the second charter of his college granted on 10th july 1443, in which he says:- "it is our fixed and unalterable purpose, being moved thereto, as we trust, by the inspiration of the holy spirit, that our poor scholars of our royal foundation of s. mary of eton, after they have been sufficiently taught the first rudiments of grammar, shall be transferred thence to our aforesaid college of cambridge, which we will shall be henceforth denominated our college royal of s. mary and s. nicholas, there to be more thoroughly instructed in a liberal course of study, in other branches of knowledge, and other professions." [illustration: the west doorway king's college chapel] the first site chosen for the college was a very cramped and inconvenient one. it had milne street, then one of the principal thoroughfares of the town, on the west, the university library and schools on the east, and school street on the north. on the south side only had it any outlet at all. a court was formed by placing buildings on the three unoccupied sides, the university buildings forming a fourth. these buildings, however, were never completely finished, except in a temporary manner, and indeed so remained until the end of the last century, when they were more or less incorporated in the new buildings of the university library facing trinity hall lane, erected by sir gilbert scott in 1868. the old gateway facing clare college, which had been begun in 1444, was at last completed from the designs of mr. pearson in 1890, and remains one of the most beautiful architectural gates in cambridge. [illustration: king's college chapel] it very soon, however, became evident that the selected site was much too small for the projected college. little time was lost by the earliest provost and scholars in petitioning the king to provide an ampler habitation for their needs. "the task was beset with difficulties that would have daunted a mind less firmly resolved on carrying out the end in view than the king's; difficulties indeed that would have been insuperable except by royal influence, backed by a royal purse. the ground on which king's college now stands was then densely populated. it occupied nearly the whole of the parish of s. john baptist, whose church is believed to have stood near the west end of the chapel. milne street crossed the site from north to south, in a direction that may be easily identified from the two ends of the street that still remain, under the name of trinity hall lane and queen's lane. the space between milne street and trumpington street, then called high street, was occupied by the houses and gardens of different proprietors, and was traversed by a narrow thoroughfare called piron lane, leading from high street to s. john's church. at the corner of milne street and this lane, occupying the ground on which about half the ante-chapel now stands, was the small college called _god's house_, founded in 1439 by william byngham for the study of grammar, which, as he observes in his petition to henry vi. for leave to found it, is "the rote and ground of all other sciences." on the west side of milne street, between it and the river, were the hostels of s. austin, s. nicholas, and s. edmund, besides many dwelling-houses. this district was traversed by several lanes, affording to the townspeople ready access to the river, and to a wharf on its bank called salthithe. no detailed account has been preserved of the negotiations necessary for the acquisition of this ground, between six and seven acres in extent, and in the very heart of cambridge.... the greatest offence appears to have been given by the closing of the lanes leading down to the river, which was of primary importance to mediæval cambridge as a highway. in five years' time, however, the difficulties were all got over; the town yielded up, though not with the best grace, the portion of milne street required and all the other thoroughfares; the hostels were suppressed, or transferred to other sites; the church of s. john was pulled down, and the parish united to that of s. edward, whose church bears evidence, by the spacious aisles attached to its choir, of the extension rendered necessary at that time by the addition of the members of clare hall and trinity hall to the number of its parishioners."[53] on this splendid site of many acres, where now the silent green expanse of sunlit lawn has taken the place of the busy lanes and crowded tenements, which in henry's time hummed with the life of a mediæval river-side city, there rises the wondrous building, the crown of fifteenth century architecture, beautiful, unique--a cathedral church in size, a college chapel in plan--seeming in its lofty majesty so solitary and so aloof, and yet so instantaneously impressive. who was the architect of this masterpiece? the credit has commonly been given to one of two men--nicholas close or john langton. close was a man of flemish family, and one of the original six fellows of the college. he had for a few years been the vicar of the demolished church of s. john zachary. he afterwards became bishop of carlisle. langton was master of pembroke and chancellor of the university, and was one of the commissioners appointed by the king to superintend the scheme of the works at their commencement. but both of these men were theologians and divines. we have no evidence that they were architects. mr. g. gilbert scott, in his essay on "english church architecture," has, however, given reasons, which seem to be almost conclusive, that the man who should really have the credit of conceiving this great work was the master-mason reginald of ely, who as early as 1443 was appointed by a patent of henry vi. "to press masons, carpenters, and other workmen" for the new building. according to mr. scott's view, nicholas close and his fellow surveyors merely did the work which in modern days would be done by a building committee. it was the master-mason who planned the building, and who continued to act as architect until the works came to a standstill with the deposition of the king and the enthronement of his successor edward iv. in 1462. moreover, the character of the general design of king's chapel and even its architectural details, such as the setting out of its great windows, the plan of its vaulting shafts, and the groining of the roofs of the small chapels between its buttresses, lend force to mr. scott's contention. it is evident from the accuracy and minuteness of the directions given in "the will of king henry vi." (a document which was not in reality a testament, but an expression of his deliberate purpose and design with regard to his proposed foundation), that complete working plans had been prepared by an architect. whoever that architect may have been, he had evidently been commissioned to design a chapel of magnificence worthy of a royal foundation. and where more naturally could he look for his model for such a building as the king desired than to that chapel, the largest and the most splendid hitherto erected in england, that finest specimen of decorated architecture in the kingdom, alan de walsingham's lady chapel at ely. the relationship between the two buildings is obvious to even an uninstructed eye, but mr. scott has shown how closely the original design of king's follows the ely lady chapel lines. "any one," he truly says, "who will carry up his eye from the bases of the vaulting shafts to the springing of the great vault will perceive at once that the section of the shaft does not correspond with the plan of the vault springers. there is a sort of cripple here. the shaft is, in fact, set out with seven members, while the design of the vault plan requires but five. thus two members of the pier have nothing to do, and disappear somewhat clumsily in the capital. the section of these shafts was imposed by the first architect, and does not agree with the requirement of a fan-groin (designed by the architect of a later date).... the original sections, and the peculiar distribution of their bases, unmistakably indicate a ribbed vault, with transverse, diagonal, and intermediate ribs. now, if we apply to the plan of these shaftings at cambridge the plan of the vaulting at ely, we find the two to tally precisely. each member of the pier has its corresponding rib, in the direction of the sweep of which each member of the base is laid down. this might serve as proof sufficient, but it is not all. there exist in the church two lierne-groins of the work of the first period, those namely of the two easternmost chapels of the north range, and these are identical in principle with the great vault at ely, and with the plan that is indicated by the distribution of the ante-chapel bases. we know then that the first designer of the church did employ lierne and not fan-vaulting, even in the small areas of the chapels, and that these liernes resemble not the later form--such as we may observe in the nave of winchester cathedral--but the earlier manner which is exhibited at ely. there can, therefore, as i conceive, be no doubt that this great chapel was designed to be "chare-roofed" with such a lierne-vault--it is practically a welsh-groin--as adorns the next grandest chapel in england only sixteen miles distant."[54] there seems little doubt then that the architect of king's chapel was its first master-builder, reginald of ely, who, trained under the shadow of the great minster buildings in that city, probably in its mason's yard, naturally took as his model for the king's new chapel at cambridge one of the most exquisite of the works of the great cathedral builder of the previous century, alan de walsingham. had the original design of reginald been completed, several of the defects of the building, as we see it to-day, would have been avoided. the chapel vault would have been arched, and the great space which is now left between the top of the windows and the spring of the vaulting would have been avoided. much of the heaviness of effect also, which is felt by any one studying the exterior of the chapel, and which is due to the low pitch of the window arches, rendered necessary by the alteration in the design of the great vault, would have been avoided. [illustration: king's college chapel _to face p. 150_] reginald of ely's work, however, indeed all work on the new chapel, ceased in 1461, when the battle of towton gave the crown to the young duke of york, and the lancastrian colleges of his rival fell upon barren days. on the accession of richard iii. in 1483, the new king not only showed his goodwill to the college by the gift of lands, but ordered the building to go on with all despatch. in 1485, however, there commenced another period of twenty years' stagnation. then in 1506, henry vii., paying a visit with his mother to cambridge, attended service in the unfinished chapel, and determined to become its patron. in the summer of 1508 more than a hundred masons and carpenters were again at work, and henceforth the building suffered no interruption. by july 1515 the fabric of the church was finished, and had cost in all, according to the present value of money, some £160,000. in november of the same year a payment of £100 is made to barnard flower, the king's glazier, and a similar sum in february 1517. it would seem that the same artist completed four windows, that over the north door of the ante-chapel being the earliest. upon his death agreements were made in 1526 for the erection of the whole of the remaining twenty-two windows. they were to represent "the story of the old lawe and of the new lawe." above and below the transome in each window are two separate pictures, each pair being divided by a "messenger," who bears a scroll with a legend giving the subject represented. in the lower tier the windows from north-west to south-west represent the life of the blessed virgin, the life of christ, and the history of the church as recorded in the acts of the apostles. the upper tier has scenes from the old testament or from apocryphal sources which prefigure the events recorded below. the whole of the east window is devoted to the passion and crucifixion of our lord. the west window, containing a representation of the last judgment, is entirely modern. it was executed by messrs. clayton and bell, and was erected in 1879. "a bare enumeration of the subjects, however, can give but a poor idea of these glorious paintings. what first arrests the attention is the singularly happy blending of colours, produced by a most ingenious juxta-position of pure tints. the half-tones so dear to the present generation were fortunately unknown when they were set up. thus though there is a profusion of brilliant scarlet, and light blue, and golden yellow, there is no gaudiness. again, all the glass admits light without let or hindrance, the shading being laid on with sparing hand, so that the greatest amount of brilliancy is insured. this is further enhanced by a very copious use of white or slightly yellow glass. it must not, however, be supposed that a grand effect of colour is all that has been aimed at. the pictures bear a close study as works of art. the figures are rather larger than life, and boldly drawn, so as to be well seen from a great distance; but the faces are full of expression and individuality, and each scene is beautiful as a composition. they would well bear reduction within the narrow limits of an easel picture.... there is no doubt that a german or flemish influence is discernible in some of the subjects; but that is no more than might have been expected, when we consider the number of sets of pictures illustrating the life and passion of christ that had appeared in germany and flanders during the half century preceding their execution.... that these windows should (at the time of the puritan destruction of such things) have been saved is a marvel; and how it came to pass is not exactly known. the story that they were taken out and hidden, or, as one version of it says, buried, may be dismissed as an idle fabrication. more likely the puritan sentiments of the then provost, dr. whichcote, were regarded with such favour by the earl of manchester during his occupation of cambridge, that he interfered to save the chapel and the college from molestation."[55] [illustration: gateway to old court of king's college] the magnificent screen and rood-loft are carved with the arms, badge, and initials (h. a.) of henry and anne boleyn, and with the rose, fleur-de-lis, and portcullis. doubtless, therefore, they were erected between 1532 and 1535. the doors to the screen were renewed in 1636, and bear the arms of charles i. the stalls were set up by henry viii., but they were without canopies, the wall above them being probably covered with hangings, the hooks for which may still be seen under the string-course below the windows. the stalls are in the renaissance manner, and are the first example of that style at cambridge. they appear to differ somewhat in character from torregiano's works at westminster, and to be rather french than italian in feeling, although some portions of the figure-carving recalls in its vigour the style of michael angelo. the stall canopies and the panelling to the east of the stalls were the work of cornelius austin, and were put up about 1675. the north and south entrance doors leading to the quire and the side chapel are probably of the same date as the screen. the lectern dates from the first quarter of the sixteenth century, having been given by robert hacombleyn, provost, whose name it bears. as to the remaining buildings of king's college it is sufficient to say that the great quadrangle projected by the founder was never built. the old buildings at the back of the schools, hastily finished in a slight and temporary manner, continued in use until the last century. in 1723 a plan was furnished by james gibbs for a new quadrangle, of which the chapel was to form the north side. the western range--the gibbs building--was the only part actually built. the hall, library, provost's lodge, and several sets of rooms at each end of the hall, as well as the stone screen and the porter's lodge, were erected in 1824-28, at a cost of rather more than £100,000, from the designs of william wilkins. a range of rooms facing trumpington street were added by sir gilbert scott in 1870. the new court, which when completed will form a court with buildings on three sides and the river on the fourth, was commenced by mr. bodley in 1891. at present this third side of the court is still left open. [illustration: king's college quadrangle] to return, however, to the history of the foundation. it is an illustration of the way in which at this time ultramontanist theories were contending for supremacy in england, in the universities as elsewhere, that the king should have applied to the pope for a bull granting him power to make his new college not only independent of the bishop of the diocese, but also of the university authorities. such a bull was granted, and in 1448 the university itself consented, by an instrument given under its common seal, that the college, in the matter of discipline as distinguished from instruction, should be entirely independent of the university. by the limitation also of the benefits of this foundation to scholars only of eton, the founder, perhaps unconsciously, certainly disastrously, created an exclusive class of students endowed with exclusive privileges, an anomaly which for more than four centuries marred the full efficiency of henry's splendid foundation. this _imperium in imperio_ was happily abolished by a new code of statutes which became law in 1861. "a little flock they were in henry's hall * * * * * hardly the circle widened, till one day the guarded gate swung open wide to all." it may certainly be hoped that there is truth in the present provost's gentle prophecy, that "it is hardly possible that the college should relapse into what was sometimes its old condition, that of a family party, comfortable, indeed, but inclined to be sleepy and self-indulgent, and not wholly free from family quarrels." and yet at the same time it should not be forgotten, as good master fuller reminds us, that "the honour of athens lieth not in her walls, but in the worth of her citizens," and that during the lengthened period in which the society was a close foundation only open to scholars of eton, with a yearly entry therefore of new members seldom exceeding half-a-dozen, it could still point to a long list of distinguished scholars and of men otherwise eminent--mathematicians like oughtred, moralists like whichcote, theologians like pearson, antiquarians like cole, poets like waller--who had been educated within its walls. in cooper's "memorials of cambridge," the list of eminent king's men down to 1860 occupies twenty pages, a similar list of trinity men, the largest college in the university, only ten pages more. this hardly seems to justify dean peacock's well-known epigram on the unreformed king's as "a splendid _cenotaph_ of learning." let us now turn from king henry's college to the other royal foundation of his reign which claims his consort, the lady margaret of anjou, as its foundress. the poet gray in his "installation ode," speaking of queen margaret in relation to queens' college, calls her "anjou's heroine." but those shakespearean readers who have been accustomed to think of his representation of the queen, in _the second part of king henry vi._, as a dramatic portrait of considerable truth and historic consistency, will hardly recognise the "heroic" qualities of margaret's character. certainly she is not one of shakespeare's "heroines." she has none of the womanly grace or lovableness of his ideal women. a woman of hard indomitable will, mistaking too often cruelty for firmness, using the pliancy and simplicity of her husband for mere party ends, outraging the national conscience by stirring up the irish, the french, the scots, against the peace of england, finally pitting the north against the south in a cruel and futile civil war, with nothing left of womanhood but the almost tigress heart of a baffled mother, this is the queen margaret as we know her in shakespeare and in history. but "our lady the queen margaret," who was a "nursing mother" to queens' college, seems a quite different figure. she has but just come to england, a wife and queen when little more than a child, "good-looking and well-grown" (_specie et forma præstans_), precocious, romantic, a "devout pilgrim to the shrine of boccaccio," delighting in the ballads of the troubadour, a lover of the chase, inheriting all the literary tastes of her father, king rené of anjou. the motives which led her to become the patroness of a college are thus given by thomas fuller:- "as miltiades' trophy in athens would not suffer themistocles to sleep, so this queen, beholding her husband's bounty in building king's college, was restless in herself with holy emulation until she had produced something of the like nature, a strife wherein wives without breach of duty may contend with their husbands which should exceed in pious performances."[56] accordingly we read that in 1447 queen margaret, being then but fifteen years old, sent to the king the following petition:- "margaret,--to the king my souverain lord. besechith mekely margaret, quene of england, youre humble wif. forasmuche as youre moost noble grace hath newely ordeined and stablisshed a collage of seint bernard, in the universite of cambrigge, with multitude of grete and faire privilages perpetuelly apparteynyng unto the same, as in your lettres patentes therupon made more plainly hit appereth. in the whiche universite is no collage founded by eny quene of england hidertoward. plese hit therfore unto your highnesse to geve and graunte unto your seide humble wif the fondacon and determinacon of the seid collage to be called and named the quene's collage of sainte margarete and saint bernard, or ellis of sainte margarete, vergine and martir, and saint bernard confessour, and thereupon for ful evidence therof to hav licence and pouoir to ley the furst stone in her own persone or ellis by other depute of her assignement, so that beside the mooste noble and glorieus collage roial of our lady and saint nicholas, founded by your highnesse may be founded and stablisshed the seid so called quenes collage to conservacon of oure feithe and augmentacon of pure clergie, namly of the imparesse of alle sciences and facultees theologie ... to the ende there accustumed of plain lecture and exposicon botraced with docteurs sentence autentiq performed daily twyse by two docteurs notable and well avised upon the bible aforenone and maistre of the sentences afternone to the publique audience of alle men frely, bothe seculiers and religieus to the magnificence of denominacon of suche a queen's collage, and to laud and honneure of sexe feminine, like as two noble and devoute contesses of pembroke and of clare, founded two collages in the same universite called pembroke hall and clare hall, the wiche are of grete reputacon for good and worshipful clerkis that by grete multitude have be bredde and brought forth in theym. and of your more ample grace to graunte that alle privileges immunitees, profites and comoditees conteyned in the lettres patentes above reherced may stonde in their strength and pouoir after forme and effect of the conteine in theym. "and she shal ever preye god for you." the college of s. bernard, mentioned in the first paragraph of the queen's petition, was a hostel, established by andrew dokett, the rector of s. botolph's church, situated on the north side of the churchyard in trumpington street, adjoining benet college. for this hostel, dokett had obtained from the king in 1446 a charter of incorporation as a college, but a year later procured another charter, refounding the college of s. bernard on a new site, between milne street and the river, adjoining the house of the carmelite friars. the true founder, therefore, of queens' college was andrew dokett, but he was foresighted enough to seek the queen's patronage for his foundation, and no doubt welcomed the absorption of s. bernard's hostel in the royal foundation of queens' college. anyhow, the foundation stone of the new building was laid on the 15th april 1448. the outbreak of the civil war stopped the works when the first court of the college was almost finished. andrew dokett, the first master, was still alive when edward iv. came to the throne, and about the year 1465, he was fortunate to secure for his college the patronage of the new queen, elizabeth wydville. elizabeth had been in earlier days a lady-in-waiting to margaret of anjou, and had herself strongly sympathised with the lancastrian party. it is probable, therefore, that in accepting the patronage of the college she did so, not in her character as yorkist queen, but rather as desirous of completing the work of the old mistress whom she had faithfully served before the strange chances of destiny had brought her as a rival to the throne. at any rate, from this period onwards the position of the apostrophe after and not before the "s" in "queens'" adequately corresponds to the fact that the college commemorates not one, but two queens in its title. the earliest extant statutes appear to be those of the second foundress, the queen consort of edward iv., revised at a later time under the authority of henry viii. it seems indeed likely that the absence of canon law from the subjects required by statute from all fellows after regency in arts, and the provision of bible lectures in college, and divers english sermons to be preached in chapel by the fellows, indicates a somewhat remarkable reforming spirit for the end of the fifteenth century, and rather points to the conclusion that these provisions belong to the later revised code of henry viii. at the time of the foundation of queen's college the plan of a collegiate building had been completely developed. it followed the lines not so much of a monastery, though it had, of course, some features in common with the monastic houses, but of the normal type of the large country houses or mansions of the fifteenth century. the late professor willis, in his archæological lectures on cambridge, was accustomed, we are told, to exhibit in support of this view a ground plan of haddon hall and queens' college side by side. and certainly it is surprising to notice how striking is the similarity of the two plans. the east and west position of the chapel at haddon hall happens to be the reverse of that of queens' college, but with that exception, and the position of the entrance gateway to the first quadrangle, the arrangement of the buildings in the two mansions is practically identical. the hall, buttery, and kitchen occupy in both the range of buildings between the two courts; the private dining-room beyond the hall at haddon is represented at queens' college by the fellows' combination room; the long gallery in the upper court of haddon has more or less its counterpart at queens' in the masters' gallery in the cloister court; the upper entrance at haddon is similarly placed to the passage to the old wooden bridge at queens'. [illustration: cloister court, queen's college] the principal court of queens' was almost completed before the wars of the roses broke out. "it is," says mr. j. w. clark, "the earliest remaining quadrangle in cambridge that can claim attention for real architectural beauty and fitness of design." it is built in red brick, and has a noble gateway flanked by octagonal turrets, and there are square towers at each external angle of the court. the employment of these towers is a peculiarity which perhaps offers presumptive evidence that the architect of the other two royal colleges of eton and king's may also have been employed at queens'. this court probably retains more of the aspect of ancient cambridge than any other collegiate building in the town. the turret at the south-west angle of the great court, overlooking silver street and the town bridge and mill pond, adjoins the rooms which, according to tradition, were occupied by erasmus, and whose top storey was used by him as a study. it is commonly known as the tower of erasmus. "queens' college," says fuller, "accounteth it no small credit thereunto that erasmus (who no doubt might have pickt and chose what house he pleased) preferred this for the place of his study for some years in cambridge. either invited thither with the fame of the learning and love of his friend bishop fisher, then master thereof, or allured with the situation of this colledge so near the river (as rotterdam, his native place, to the sea) with pleasant walks thereabouts." an interesting account of erasmus' residence in queens' is quoted by mr. searle[57] from a letter written by a fellow of the college, andrew paschal, rector of chedsey, in the year 1680, which pleasantly describes at least the traditional belief. "the staires which rise up to his studie at queens' college in cambr. doe bring into two of the fairest chambers in the ancient building; in one of them which lookes into the hall and chief court, the vice-president kept in my time; in that adjoyning it was my fortune to be, when fellow. the chambers over are good lodgeing roomes; and to one of them is a square turret adjoyning, in the upper part of which is the study of erasmus and over it leads. to that belongs the best prospect about the colledge, viz. upon the river, into the corne fields, and country adjoyning. so y^{t} it might very well consist with the civility of the house to that great man (who was no fellow, and i think stayed not long there) to let him have that study. his sleeping roome might be either the president's, or to be neer to him the next. the roome for his servitor that above it, and through it he might goe to that studie, which for the height and neatnesse and prospect might easily take his phancy." [illustration: oriel window, queen's college] it was in this study no doubt that much of the work was done for his edition of the new testament in the original greek, that epoch-making book which he published at basle in 1516; and from hence also he must have written those amusing letters to his friends, ammonius, dean colet, sir thomas more, in which comments on the progress of his work alternate with humorous grumblings about the cambridge climate, the plague, the wine, the food: "here i live like a cockle shut up in his shell, stowing myself away in college, and perfectly mum over my books.... i cannot go out of doors because of the plague.... i am beset with thieves, and the wine is no better than vinegar.... i do not like the ale of this place at all ... if you could manage to send me a cask of greek wine, the very best that can be bought, you would be doing your friend a great kindness, but mind that it is not too sweet.... i am sending you back your cask, which i have kept by me longer than i otherwise should have done, that i might enjoy the perfume at least of greek wine.... my expenses here are enormous; the profits not a brass farthing. believe me as though i were on my oath, i have been here not quite five months, and yet have spent sixty nobles: while certain members of my (greek) class have presented me with just a single one, which they had much difficulty in persuading me to accept. i have decided not to leave a stone unturned this winter, and in fact to throw out my sheet anchor. if this succeeds i will build my nest here; if otherwise, i shall wing my flight--whither i know not." perhaps there is some playful exaggeration in all this. anyhow erasmus stayed at cambridge seven years in all. he may have been justly disappointed in his greek class-room: "i shall have perhaps a larger gathering when i begin the grammar of theodorus," he writes plaintively; but disappointed there, he took refuge in his college study, and there, high up in the south-west tower of queens', we may picture him, "outwatching the bear" over the pages of s. jerome, as jerome himself in his time had outwatched it writing those same pages, eleven hundred years before, in his cell at bethlehem; or pouring over the text of his greek testament and its translation, the boldest work of criticism and interpretation that had been conceived by any scholar for many a century, a _novum instrumentum_ indeed, by which the scholars of the new learning were to restore to the centuries which followed, the old true theology which had been so long obscured by the subtleties of the schoolmen, the new and truer theology which while based on a foundation of sound method and historical apparatus rests also in the joyous and refreshing story of the son of god, in that unique figure of a divine personality, round whom centre the love, the hopes, the fears, the joys of the coming ages. [illustration: the bridge & gables. queen's college] queens' college has many claims upon the gratitude of english scholars and english churchmen--it would have been sufficient that she had been the "nursing mother" of john fisher, bishop of rochester--"vere episcopus, vere theologus"--under whose cautious supervision cambridge first tasted of the fruits of the renascence, who "sat here governor of the schools not only for his learning's sake, but for his divine life"--but she can lay no claim to greater honour than this, that within her walls three hundred years ago, these words were written--they form part of the noble "paraclesis" of the _novum testamentum_ of erasmus:- "if the footprints of christ are anywhere shown to us, we kneel down and adore. why do we not rather venerate the living and breathing picture of him in these books? if the vesture of christ be exhibited, where will we not go to kiss it? yet were his whole wardrobe exhibited, nothing could exhibit christ more vividly and truly than these evangelical writings. statues of wood and stone we decorate with gold and gems for the love of christ. they only profess to give us the form of his body; these books present us with a living image of his most holy mind. were we to have seen him with our own eyes, we should not have so intimate a knowledge as they give of christ, speaking, healing, dying, rising again, as it were, in our actual presence. * * * * * "the sun itself is not more common and open to all than the teaching of christ. for i utterly dissent from those who are unwilling that the sacred scriptures should be read by the unlearned translated into their vulgar tongue, as though christ had taught such subtleties that they can scarcely be understood even by a few theologians, or as though the strength of the christian religion consisted in men's ignorance of it. the mysteries of kings it may be safer to conceal, but christ wished his mysteries to be published as openly as possible. i wish that even the weakest woman should read the gospel--should read the epistles of paul. and i wish these were translated into all languages, so that they might be read and understood, not only by scots and irishmen, but also by turks and saracens. to make them understood is surely the first step. it may be that they might be ridiculed by many, but some would take them to heart. i long that the husbandman should sing portions of them to himself as he follows the plough, that the weaver should hum them to the tune of his shuttle, that the traveller should beguile with their stories the tedium of his journey."[58] [illustration: a bit from sidney street] chapter viii two of the smaller halls "to london hence, to cambridge thence, with thanks to thee, o trinity! that to thy hall, so passing all, i got at last. there joy i felt, there trim i dwelt, then heaven from hell i shifted well with learned men, a number then, the time i past. when gains were gone and years grew on, and death did cry, from london fly, in cambridge then i found again a resting plot: in college best of all the rest, with thanks to thee, o trinity! through thee and thine for me and mine, some stay i got!" --thomas tusser. the foundation of trinity hall by bishop bateman of norwich--on the site of the hostel of student-monks of ely--prior crauden--evidence of the ely obedientary rolls--the college buildings--the old hall--s. edward's church used as college chapel--hugh latimer's sermon on a pack of cards--harvey goodwin--frederick maurice--the hall--the library--its ancient bookcases--the foundation of s. catherine's hall. thus sang thomas tusser--the author of "five hundred points of good husbandry united to as many of good housewifery"--of trinity hall and his residence there about the year 1542. and the words of the homely old rhymer--the most fluent versifier, i suppose, among farmers since virgil, wise in his advice to others, most unlucky in the application of his own maxims--have been echoed in spirit by many generations of "hall" men from his time onwards. and indeed there is hardly perhaps another college in cambridge which stirs the hearts of its members with a more passionate enthusiasm of loyalty than this, which yet never speaks of itself as a "college," but always proudly as "the hall." it was founded by william bateman, bishop of norwich, in 1350, but it had an earlier origin than this. on the southern part of the present site there stood an old house, which had been provided some thirty years earlier for the use of the student-monks of ely attending the university by the then prior. this was john of crauden, prior of ely from 1321 to 1341, a man of noble personal character, a model administrator of the great possessions of his abbey, a patron of art and learning, the friend on the one hand of queen philippa, and on the other of the greatest cathedral builder of the fourteenth century, alan de walsingham. the portrait bust of him, which may still be seen carved at the end of one of the hood moulds of the great octagon arches in the minster, shows a strong, handsome face, dignified, benignant, pleasant; a full, frank, eloquent eye; a mouth intelligent and firm, and yet with a merry smile lurking unmistakably in its corner; altogether such a man as we may well feel might not only rightly be queen philippa's friend, as the chronicler says, "propter amabilem et graciosam ipsius affabilitatem et eloquentiam,"[59] but one also who one might expect to find anxious to maintain among his convent brothers the benedictine ideal of knowledge and learning. it was no doubt to that end that somewhere about the year 1325 he had purchased the house at cambridge as a hostel for the use of the ely monks. in the obedientary rolls of the monastery, still treasured in the muniment room of the cathedral, there is evidence that from his time onwards three or four of the ely monks were constantly residing at cambridge at the convent expense, taking their degrees there, and then returning to ely.[60] [illustration: the chapel, trinity hall] it is probable, however, that the residence of the ely monks was, shortly after crauden's time, transferred from this hostel to the rooms provided in monk's college on the present site of magdalene, for a register among the ely muniments shows that in the twenty-fourth year of edward iii. john of crauden's hostel was conveyed by the prior and convent to the bishop of norwich for the purpose of his proposed college. the old monk's hall was still standing in 1731, for it is contained in a plan of the college of that date preserved in the college library. a note in warren's "history of trinity hall" informs us that a part of it was destroyed in 1823. warren himself speaks of it as "y^{e} old building for y^{e} monks, where y^{e} pigeon house is." now all has vanished unless perhaps some underground foundations in the garden of the master's lodge. the buildings of the college, in their general arrangement, have probably been little altered since their completion in the fourteenth century. they had the peculiarity of an entrance court between the principal court and the street, like the outer court of a monastery. the original gateway, however, of this entrance--the porter's court, as it was called at a later date--has been removed, and the college is now entered directly from the street. it is probable that the hall, forming one half of the western side of the principal court, was built during the lifetime of the founder, as also was the original eastern range, rebuilt in the last century. this would give a date, 1355, for these two ranges. the buttery and the northern block of buildings belong to 1374. in early days trinity hall shared with clare hall the church of s. john zachary as a joint college chapel. when in connection with the building of king's college the church of s. john was removed, two aisles were added to the chancel of s. edward's church for the accommodation of "the hall" students. the present chapel appears to date from the end of the fourteenth, or probably the early part of the fifteenth century. the only architectural features, however, at present visible of mediæval character are the piscina and the buttresses on the south side. the advowson of the church of s. edward, the north aisle of the chancel of which was for a time used as the college chapel, was acquired by the college in the middle of the fifteenth century, and has thus remained to our own day. "the complete control," says mr. walden in his lately published "history of trinity hall," "of the church by a college whose fellows, in course of time, were more and more a lay body, while other colleges continued to be exclusively clerical, might be expected to give opportunity for the ministrations of men whose opinions might not be those preferred by the dominant clerical party at the moment. in 1529, for instance, during the mastership of stephen gardiner be it observed, hugh latimer, who is said to have become a reformer from the persuasions of bilney, fellow of trinity hall, preached in s. edward's on the sunday before christmas. he preached there often, but on this occasion he surpassed himself in originality, taking apparently a pack of cards as his text, and illustrating from the christmas game of triumph, with hearts as 'triumph,' or _trumps_ as we say, the superiority of heart-religion over the vain outward show of the superstitious ornaments of the other court cards. buckenham, prior of the dominicans, answered him from the same pulpit, and preached on dice. latimer answered him again. the whole must have been more entertaining than edifying." this tradition of independence, at any rate in pulpit teaching, though in less eccentric ways, has been retained by s. edward's down to our own time. here in 1832, henry john rose, the brother of hugh james rose, the cambridge tractarian, represented the moderate wing of the new anglican party. here, during the years preceding his promotion to the deanery of ely in 1858, harvey goodwin preached that series of sermons, simple, pithy, robust, which sunday by sunday crowded with undergraduates the church of s. edward for nearly eight years, as a church in a university city has seldom been crowded. here, also, in 1871 frederick denison maurice--the most representative churchman probably of the nineteenth century, for it was he rather than pusey or newman, who, by his interpretation of the doctrine of the incarnation, has most profoundly moulded, inspired, and transfigured the church ideals of the present--found an opportunity of preaching when too many of the parochial pulpits of england were closed to him. the grave and the trivial mingle in college as in other human affairs. and so it came about that the possession of the spiritualities of s. edward's parish compelled the fellows of the hall to keep an eye on its temporalities, and from time to time to beat its bounds. here is one record of such "beating." it was may 23rd, viz., ascension day in 1734, when the fellows deputed for the purpose started from the three tuns and went by the mitre, the white horse, and the black bull before reaching s. catherine's hall. they penetrated king's, but regretted to find that here the brewhouse was shut up. they encircled clare and trinity hall, therefore, and came back to the three tuns whence they had started two hours before. they had not, quite evidently--for the full circuit is not great--been walking all the time. the account ends:- "n.b.--one bottle of white wine given us at y^{e} tuns, and one bottle of white wine given us at the mitre. ale and bread and cheese given by the minister of st. edward's at y^{e} bench in our college backside. _mem._--to be given by y^{e} minister twelve halfpenny loaves, sixpenny worth of cheshire cheeses, seven quarts and a half of ale in y^{e} great stone bottle for y^{e} people in general, and a tankard of ale for each church warden."[61] [illustration: oriel window, jesus college] it will be remembered that in the last chapter, in speaking of the books left to corpus christi college by archbishop parker, we mentioned that provision of his deed of gift by which under certain contingencies the books were to be transferred from corpus to trinity hall. it is quite probable that this provision drew the attention of the authorities of the latter college to the possible need of a library. it is unknown, however, when exactly the present library was built. the style proclaims elizabeth's reign or thereabouts. professor willis conjectured about 1600. but whatever the date may be it is very fortunate that the hand of the restorer which fell so heavily upon so many other of the college buildings should have mercifully spared the library, which to this day retains its early simplicity of character, leaving it one of the most interesting of the old book rooms in the university. mr. j. g. clark in his valuable essay on the development of libraries and their fittings, published two years ago under the title "the care of books," has thus spoken of the library of trinity hall:- "the library of trinity hall is thoroughly mediæval in plan, being a long narrow room on the first floor of the north side of the second court, 65 feet long by 20 feet wide, with eight equi-distant windows in each side wall, and a window of four lights in the western gable. it was built about 1600, but the fittings are even later, having been added between 1626 and 1645 during the mastership of thomas eden, ll.d. they are therefore a deliberate return to ancient forms at a time when a different type had been adopted elsewhere. "there are four desks and six seats on each side of the room, placed as usual, at right angles to the side walls, in the interspaces of the windows, respectively. "these lecterns are of oak, 6 feet 7 inches long, and 7 feet high, measured to the top of the ornamental finial. there is a sloping desk at the top, beneath which is a single shelf. the bar for the chains passes under the desk, through the two vertical ends of the case. at the end furthest from the wall, the hasp of the lock is hinged to the bar and secured by two keys. beneath the shelf there is at either end a slip of wood which indicates that there was once a movable desk which could be pulled out when required. the reader could therefore consult his convenience, and work either sitting or standing. for both these positions the heights are very suitable, and at the bottom of the case was a plinth on which he could set his feet. the seats between each pair of desks were of course put up at the same time as the desks themselves. they show an advance in comfort, being divided into two so as to allow of support to the readers' backs."[62] the garden of the hall was laid out early in the last century, with formal walks and yew hedges and a raised terrace overlooking the river. the well-known epigram quoted by gunning in his "reminiscences"[63] has for its topic not this garden but the small triangular plot next to trinity hall lane, which was planted and surrounded by a paling in 1793, by dr. joseph jowett, the then tutor. [illustration: gateway in great court st catharine's college] "a little garden little jowett made and fenced it with a little palisade, but when this little garden made a little talk, he changed it to a little gravel walk; if you would know the mind of little jowett this little garden don't a little show it." it has usually been attributed to archdeacon wrangham. there are several versions of it, and a translation into latin, which runs as follows:-"exiguum hunc hortum, fecit jowettulus iste exiguus, vallo et muniit exiguo: exiguo hoc horto forsan jowettulus iste exiguus mentem prodidit exiguam." at the end of the fifteenth century, just twenty years after the fall of constantinople, dr. robert woodlark, third provost of king's college and some time chancellor of the university, founded the small "house of learning," which he called s. catherine's hall, possibly because henry vi., whose mother was a catherine, was his patron, or possibly because at this time s. catherine of alexandria, the patron saint of scholars, was a popular saint. in the statutes he says, "i have founded and established a college or hall to the praise, glory, and honour of our lord jesus christ, of the most glorious virgin mary, his mother, and of the holy virgin katerine, for the exaltation of the christian faith, for the defence and furtherance of the holy church, and growth of science and faculties of philosophy and sacred theology." in the autumn of 1473 a master and three fellows took up their residence in the small court which had just been built on a site in milne street, close to the bull inn. the chapel and library, however, do not appear to have been completed until a few years later. in 1520 a second court was added, and a century later, in 1634, some new buildings were commenced to the north of the principal court, and adjacent to queen's street. these buildings, which are the only old buildings that still remain, were completed two years later. between 1673-97 all the rest of the old buildings were pulled down and the college rebuilt. in 1704 the new chapel was built on the site of the stables of thomas hobson, whose just but despotic method of dealing with his customers gave rise to the phrase "hobson's choice." in 1757, the houses which hitherto had concealed the college from the high street were removed. chapter ix bishop alcock and the nuns of s. rhadegund "yes, since his dayes a cocke was in the fen, i knowe his voyce among a thousand men: he taught, he preached, he mended every wrong: but, coridon, alas! no good thing abideth long. he all was a cocke, he wakened us from sleepe and while we slumbered he did our foldes keep: no cur, no foxes, nor butchers' dogges would coulde hurte our folds, his watching was so good; the hungry wolves which did that time abounde, what time he crowed abashed at the sounde. this cocke was no more abashed at the foxe than is a lion abashed at the oxe." --alexander barclay, _monk of ely_, 1513 the new learning in italy and germany--the english "pilgrim scholars": grey, tiptoft, linacre, grocyn--the practical genius of england--bishops rotherham, alcock, and fisher--alcock, diplomatist, financier, architect--the founder of jesus college--he takes as his model jesus college, rotherham--his object the training of a preaching clergy--the story of the nunnery of s. rhadegund--its dissolution--conversion of the conventual church into a college chapel--the monastic buildings, gateway, cloister, chapter house--the founder a better architect than an educational reformer--the jesus roll of eminent men from cranmer to coleridge. the historical importance of the new learning depends ultimately on the fact that its influence on the western world broadened out into a new capacity for culture in general, which took various forms according to the different local or national conditions with which it came into contact. in italy, its land of origin, the classical revival was felt mainly as an æsthetic ideal, an instrument for the self-culture of the individual, expressing itself in delight for beauty of form and elegance of literary style, bringing to the life of the cultured classes a social charm and distinction of tone, which, however, it is difficult sometimes to distinguish from a merely refined paganism. in france and spain too, where the basis of character was also latin, the æsthetic spirit of classical antiquity was readily assimilated. to a french or a spanish scholar sympathy with the pagan spirit was instinctive and innate. the teutonic genius, however, both on the side of literature and of art, remained sturdily impervious to the more æsthetic side of the italian renaissance. in germany the æsthetic influence was evident enough--we can trace it plainly in the writings of erasmus and melancthon, though with them italian humanism was always a secondary aim subservient to a greater end--but it had a strongly marked character of its own, wholly different from the italian. the renaissance in germany indeed we rightly know by the name of the reformation, and the paramount task of the german scholars of the new learning we recognise to have been the elucidation of the true meaning of the bible. similarly in england the scholarly mind was at first little affected by the æsthetic considerations which meant so much to a frenchman or an italian. a few chosen englishmen, it is true, "pilgrim scholars" they were called--william grey, bishop of ely, john tiptoft, earl of worcester, thomas linacre, william grocyn stand out perhaps most conspicuously--were drawn to italy by the rumours of the marvellous treasures rescued from monastic lumber rooms, or conveyed over seas by fugitive greeks, but they returned to england to find that there was little they could do except to bequeath the books and manuscripts they had collected to an oxford or a cambridge college, and hope for happier times when scholars would be found to read them. it was not indeed until the little group of hellenists--erasmus and linacre and grocyn and colet--had shown the value of greek thought as an interpreter of the new testament, that any enthusiasm for the new learning could be awakened in england. an increase of a knowledge of the bible was worth working for, not the elegancies of an accurate latin style. englishmen in the fifteenth century were busy in the task of developing trade and commerce, and their intellectual tone took colour from their daily work. it became eminently utilitarian and practical. an english scholar was willing to accept the new learning if you would prove to him that it was useful or was true, that it was only beautiful did not at first much affect him. it was only therefore with an eye to strictly practical results that at the universities the new learning was welcomed, and even there tardily. nowhere perhaps is this practical tendency of english scholarship at this period more characteristically shown than in the cambridge work of thomas alcock and john fisher, the founders respectively of jesus college and of the twin colleges of christ's and john's. alcock and fisher were both of them yorkshiremen, born and educated at beverley in the grammar school connected with the minster there, and both proceeding from thence to cambridge: alcock in all likelihood, though there is some doubt about this, to pembroke, where he took his ll.d. degree in or before 1461; fisher to michaelhouse, of which he became a fellow in 1491. of alcock, the historian bale has said that "no one in england had a greater reputation for sanctity." he was equally remarkable for his practical qualities, as a diplomatist, as a financier, as an architect. he had twice been a royal commissioner, under richard iii. and under henry vii., to arrange treaties with scotland. by an arrangement, of which no similar instance is known, he had conjointly held the office of lord chancellor with bishop rotherham of lincoln, he himself at that time ruling the diocese of rochester. as early as 1462 he had been made master of the rolls. in 1476 he was translated to worcester, and at the same time became lord president of wales. on the accession of henry vii., he was made comptroller of the royal works and buildings, an office for which he was especially fitted, it is said, by his skill as an architect. in 1486 he was translated to the see of ely and again made lord chancellor. it was as bishop of ely that he undertook the foundation of jesus college. there can, i think, be little doubt that for the idea of his projected college he was indebted to his old cambridge friend and co-chancellor, thomas rotherham, at this time archbishop of york. at any rate, it is noteworthy that each of the friends founded in his diocese--the archbishop at his native place of rotherham, the bishop of ely at cambridge--a college dedicated to the name of jesus. jesus college, rotherham, was founded in 1481; jesus college, cambridge, followed fifteen years later. the main object of the two prelates was probably the same. in the license for the foundation of rotherham's college its objects are stated to be twofold: "to preach the word of god in the parish of rotherham and in other places in the diocese of york; and to instruct gratuitously, in the rules of grammar and song, scholars from all parts of england, and especially from the diocese of york." there is no reason to suppose that the needs of the diocese of ely, even fifteen years later, were any different. for the fact that jesus college, rotherham, should consist of _ten_ persons--a provost, six choristers, and three masters--who can teach respectively grammar, music, and writing, the archbishop gave the fanciful reason, that as he, its founder, had offended god in his ten commandments, so he desired the benefit of the prayers of ten persons on his behalf. alcock's motive for fixing the number of his new society of jesus at cambridge at thirteen seems to have been no less characteristic. thirteen, the number of the original christian society of our lord and his apostles, was the common complement of the professed members of a monastic society, and may in all likelihood have been the original number of the nuns of st. rhadegund, whose house the bishop was about to suppress to found his new college. "rotherham's college, according to its measure, was intended to meet two pressing needs of his time, and especially of northern england--a preaching clergy, and boys trained for the service of the church. at the end of the fifteenth century 'both theology and the art of preaching seemed in danger of general neglect. at the english universities, and consequently throughout the whole country, the sermon was falling into almost complete disuse.' the disfavour with which it was regarded by the heads of the church was largely due to fear of the activity of the lollards, which had brought all popular harangues and discourses under suspicion. when the embers of heresy had been extinguished, here and there a reforming churchman sought to restore among the parish clergy the old preaching activity. in the wide unmanageable dioceses of the north the lack of an educated, preaching priesthood was most apparent. bishop stanley is probably only echoing the language of alcock when he begins and closes his statutes with an exhortation to the society, whom he addresses as 'scholars of jesus,' so to conduct themselves 'that the name of our lord jesus christ may be honoured, the clergy multiplied, and the people called to the praise of god.' he enacts that of the five foundation fellows (one of alcock's having been suppressed) four shall be devoted to the study of theology, and he requires that they shall be chosen from natives of five counties, which, owing to the imperfections of the single existing copy of his statutes, are unspecified. if, as is likely, this county restriction was re-introduced by stanley from the provisions made by alcock, it is natural to surmise that the founder's native county was one of those preferred. certain it is that his small society had a yorkshireman, chubbes of whitby, for its first master. he had been a fellow of pembroke, and probably from the same society and county came one of the original fellows of jesus, william atkynson. "the same fear of lollardism which had stifled preaching had caused the teaching profession to be regarded with jealousy by the authorities of the church. in a limited part of north-eastern england, william byngham, about the year 1439, found seventy schools void for 'grete scarstie of maistres of gramar' which fifty years previously had been in active use. his foundation of god's house at cambridge was designed to supply trained masters to these derelict schools. the boys' schools attached to rotherham's and alcock's foundations were intended to meet the same deficiency. presumably alcock meant that one or other of his fellows should supply the teaching, for his foundation did not include a schoolmaster. the linking of a grammar school with a house of university students was of course no novelty; the connection of winchester with new college had been copied by henry vi. in the association of eton and king's. but alcock's plan of including boys and 'dons' within the same walls, and making them mix in the common life and discipline of hall and chapel, if not absolutely a new thing, had no nearer prototype in an english university than walter de merton's provisions in the statutes of his college for a _grammaticus_ and _pueri_. though the school was meant to supply a practical need, the pattern of it seems to have been suggested by alcock's mediæval sentiment. there is indeed no evidence or likelihood that s. rhadegund's nunnery maintained a school, but the same monastic precedent which alcock apparently followed in fixing the number of his society prescribed the type of his school. it stood in the quarter where monastic schools were always placed, next the gate, in the old building which had served the nuns as their almonry."[64] the story of the nunnery of s. rhadegund, which, under the auspices of bishop alcock, became jesus college, is an interesting one. luckily, the material for that history is fairly complete. the nuns bequeathed a large mass of miscellaneous documents--charters, wills, account rolls--to the college, and the scrupulous care with which they were originally housed, and not less, perhaps, the wholesome neglect which has since respected their repose in the college muniment room, have fortunately preserved them intact to the present time, and have enabled the present tutor of the college, mr. arthur gray, to reconstruct a fairly complete picture of this isolated woman's community in an alien world of men in pre-academic cambridge, and of the depravation and decay which came of that isolation, and which ended in the first suppression in england of an independent house of religion. i am indebted for the following particulars to mr. gray's monograph on the priory of s. rhadegund, published a year or two ago by the cambridge antiquarian society, and to the first chapter of his lately published college history. who the nuns were that first settled on the green-croft by the river bank below cambridge, and whence they came thither, and by what title they became possessed of their original site, the documents they have handed down to us across the centuries apparently do not record. it is true that in the letters patent of henry vii. for the dissolution of the nunnery and the erection of a college in its room it is asserted--evidently on the representation of bishop alcock--that s. rhadegund's priory was "of the foundation and patronage of the bishop, as in right of his cathedral church of ely." the nun's "original cell" was no doubt of the benedictine order, and the great priory of ely, fifteen miles away down the river, was also benedictine, and the good bishop may have been right in his assertion of the connection between the two, but it is a little doubtful whether he could have given chapter and verse for his assertion. what is certain is this, that nigel, the second bishop of ely, in the opening years of stephen's reign, gave to the nuns their earliest charter. it is addressed with norman magnificence "to all barons and men of s. etheldrytha, cleric or lay, french or english," and it grants for a rent of twelve pence, "to the nuns of the cell lately established without the vill of cantebruge," certain land lying near to other land belonging to the same cell. to the friendly interest of the same bishop it seems probable that the nuns owed their first considerable benefaction. this was a parcel of ground, consisting of two virgates and six acres of meadow and four cottars with their tenure in the neighbouring village of shelford, granted to them by a certain william the monk. the fact that after seven centuries and a half the successors of the nuns of s. rhadegund, the master and fellow of jesus college, still hold possession of the same property is not only a remarkable instance of continuity of title, but also, let us hope, is sufficient proof that the original donor had come by his title honestly--a fact about which there might otherwise have been some suspicion, when we read such a record as this of this same william the monk in the _historia eliensis_ of thomas of ely: "with axes and hammers, and every implement of masonry, he profanely assailed the shrine (of s. etheldreda, the foundress saint in the church of ely), and with his own hand robbed it of its metal." however, it is something that further on in the same record we may read: "he lived to repent it bitterly. he, who had once been extraordinarily rich and had lacked for nothing, was reduced to such extreme poverty as not even to have the necessaries of life. at last when he had lost all and knew not whither to turn himself, by urgent entreaty he prevailed on the ely brethren to receive him into their order, and there with unceasing lamentation, tears, vigils, and prayers deploring his guilt, he ended his days in sincere penitence." * * * * * other benefactions followed that of william the monk, lands, customs, tithes, fishing rights, advowsons of churches. at some time in the reign of henry ii. the nuns acquired the advowson of all saints church--all saints in the jewry--a living which still belongs to the masters and fellows of jesus, although the old church standing in the open space opposite the gate of john's was removed in the middle of the last century, and is now represented by the memorial cross placed on the vacant spot and by the fine new church of all saints facing jesus college. the advowson of s. clements followed in the year 1215, given to the nuns by an alderman of the cambridge guild merchants. altogether the nunnery, though never a large house, seems to have acquired a comfortable patrimony. [illustration: st. john's and divinity schools] "the account rolls which the departing sisters left behind them in 1496 reveal pretty fully the routine of their lives. books--save for the casual mention of the binding of the lives of the saints--were none of their business, and works of charity, excepting the customary dole to the poor on maundy thursday, and occasional relief to 'poor soldiers disabled in the wars of our lord the king,' scarcely concerned them more. the duties of hospitality in the guest house make the cellaress a busy woman. they cost a good deal, but are not unprofitable; the nuns take in 'paying guests,' daughters of tradesmen and others. being ladies, the sisters neither toil nor spin; but the prioress and the grangeress have an army of servants, whose daily duties have to be assigned to them; carters and ploughmen have to be sent out to the scattered plots owned by the nunnery in the open fields about cambridge; the neatherd has to drive the cattle to distant willingham fen; the brewer has instructions for malting and brewing the 'peny-ale' which serves the nuns for 'bevers'; and the women servants are dispatched to work in the dairy, to weed the garden, or to weave and to make candles in the hospice. once in a while a party of the nuns, accompanied by their maid-servants, takes boat as far as to lynn, there to buy stock-fish and norway timber, and to fetch a letter for the prioress."[65] there is not much sign, alas! in all the record of any great devotion to religion, such as we might have expected to find in regard to such a house. indeed, it would seem that there was seldom a time in the history of the nunnery when a visit from the bishop of the diocese or from one of his commissioners on a round of inspection was other than a much resented occurrence. discipline, indeed, appears to have been generally lax in the nunnery, and the sisters or some of them easily got permission to gad outside the cloister. scandal is a key which generally unlocks the cloister gate and permits a glance into the interior shadows. _bene vixit quæ bene latuit._ "not such was margaret cailly, whose sad story was the gossip of the nuns' parlour in 1389. she came of an old and reputable family which had furnished mayors and bailiffs to cambridge and had endowed the nuns with land at trumpington. for reasons sufficiently moving her, which we may only surmise, she escaped from the cloister, discarded her religious garb, and sought hiding in the alien diocese of lincoln. but it so happened that archbishop courtenay that year was making metropolitical visitation of that diocese, and it was the ill-fortune of margaret, 'a sheep wandering from the fold among thorns,' to come under his notice. the archbishop, solicitous that 'her blood be not required at our hands,' handed her over to the keeping of our brother of ely. the bishop in turn passed her on to the custody of her own prioress, with injunctions that she should be kept in close confinement, under exercise of salutary penance, until she showed signs of contrition for her 'excesses'; and further that when the said margaret first entered the chapter-house she should humbly implore pardon of the prioress and her sisters for her offences. the story ends for us at margaret's prison-door."[66] [illustration: norman work in church of jesus college] such a story, more or less typical, i fear, of much and long continued lax discipline, prepares us for the end. when bishop alcock visited the house in 1497, we are not surprised perhaps at the evidence which is set forth in the letters patent authorising the foundation of his college in the place of the nunnery. the buildings and properties of the house are said to be dilapidated and wasted "owing to the improvidence, extravagance, and incontinence of the nuns resulting from their proximity to the university." two nuns only remain; one of them is professed elsewhere, the other is _infamis_. they are in abject want, utterly unable to maintain divine service or the works of mercy and piety required of them, and are ready to depart, leaving the home desolate. * * * * * from the nuns of s. rhadegund then jesus college received no heritage of noble ideal. two things only they have left behind them for which they merit gratitude. firstly, a bundle of deeds and manuscripts, inconsiderable to them, very valuable to the scholars and historians of the future; and secondly, their fine old church and monastic buildings. in writing in a previous chapter of the buildings of queens' we drew attention to the fact that the general plan of the college followed in the main the lines of a large country house such as haddon hall. and in degree this is true of the other college buildings in cambridge. a mere glance at a ground-plan of jesus will show at once that the arrangement of the buildings is entirely different from that of any other college at cambridge, and it is clearly derived from that of a monastery. this accords with what we know of its history. however dilapidated the old nunnery may have become through the poverty and neglect of the nuns, the outward walls of solid clunch, which under a facing of later brick, still testify to the durability of the nunnery builders, were still practically intact, and bishop alcock had too much practical skill as an architect to destroy buildings which he could so easily adapt to the needs of his college, and harmonise to fifteenth century fashions in architecture. in his conversion of the nunnery buildings to the purposes of his college, bishop alcock grouped the buildings he required round the original cloister of the nuns, increasing the size of that cloister by the breadth of the north aisle of the conventual church which he pulled down. the hall was placed on the north side, the library on the west. the kitchens and offices were in the angle of the cloister between the hall and library. the master's lodge at the south-west corner was partly constructed out of the altered nave of the church, and partly out of new buildings connecting this south-western corner of the cloister with the gate of entrance. this gateway, approached by a long gravelled path between high walls, known popularly as "the chimney," is one of the most picturesque features of the college. it is usually ascribed to bishop alcock, but on architectural evidence only. it is thus described by professor willis:- "the picturesque red-brick gateway tower of jesus college (1497), although destitute of angle-turrets, is yet distinguished from the ground upwards by a slight relief, by stone quoins, and by having its string courses designedly placed at different levels from those of the chambers on each side of it. the general disposition of the ornamentation of its arch and of the wall above it furnished the model for the more elaborate gate-houses at christ's college and st. john's college. the ogee hood-mould rises upwards, and the stem of its finial terminates under the base of a handsome tabernacle which occupies the centre of the upper stage, with a window on each side of it. each of the spandrel spaces contains a shield, and a larger shield is to be found in the triangular field between the hood-mould and the arch." professor willis thus describes also the conventual church and the changes which were made by the bishop in his conversion of it into a college chapel. [illustration: norman work in n. transept jesus college chapel] "the church ... presented an arrangement totally different from that of the chapel of jesus college at the present day. it was planned in the form of a cross, with a tower in the centre, and had in addition to a north and south transept, aisles on the north and south sides of the eastern limb, flanking it along half the extent of its walls, and forming chapels which opened to the chancel by two pier arches in each wall. the structure was completed by a nave of seven piers with two side aisles.... (the church) was an admirable specimen of the architecture of its period, and two of the best preserved remaining portions, the series of lancet windows on the north and south aisles of the eastern limb, and the arcade that ornaments the inner surface of the tower walls, will always attract attention and admiration for the beauty of their composition. "under the direction of bishop alcock the side aisles, both of the chancel and of the nave, were entirely removed, the pier arches by which they had communicated with the remaining centre portion of the building were walled up, and the place of each arch was occupied by a perpendicular window of the plainest description. the walls were raised, a flat roof was substituted for the high-pitched roof of the original structure, large perpendicular windows were inserted in the gables of the chancel and south transept, and lastly, two-thirds of the nave were cut off from the church by a wall, and fitted up partly as a lodge for the master, partly as chambers for students. "as for the portion set apart for the chapel of the college, the changes were so skilfully effected and so completely concealed by plaster within and without, that all trace and even knowledge of the old aisles was lost; but in the course of preparations for repairs in 1846 the removal of some of the plaster made known the fact that the present two south windows of the chancel were inserted in walls which were themselves merely the filling-up of a pair of pier-arches, and that these arches, together with the piers upon which they rested, and the responds whence they sprang, still existed in the walls. when this key to the secret of the church had been supplied, it was resolved to push the enquiry to the uttermost; all the plaster was stripped off the inner face of the walls; piers and arches were brought to light again in all directions; old foundations were sought for on the outside of the building, and a complete and systematic examination of the plan and structure of the original church was set on foot, which led to very satisfactory results."[67] [illustration: entrance to chapter-house priory of s. radegund now jesus college herbert railton] to-day the completely restored church, the work at varying intervals from 1849 to 1869 of salvin and pugin and bodley, forms one of the most beautiful and interesting college chapels in cambridge. an important series of stained glass windows were executed by mr. william morris from the designs of burne-jones between 1873-77. in 1893 the rev. osmund fisher, a former dean of the college, at this time elected an honorary fellow, remembering to have seen in his undergraduate days of fifty years before indications of old gothic work in the wall of the cloister, during some repair of the plaster work, obtained leave of the master to investigate the wall. this led to the discovery of the beautiful triple group of early english arches and doorway which formed the original entrance to the chapter house of the nunnery, one of the most charming bits of thirteenth century architectural grouping in all cambridge. bishop alcock was probably a better architect than he was an educational reformer. he was successful enough in converting the fabric of the dissolved nunnery into college buildings. it may be doubted whether he was equally successful in translating his friend archbishop rotherham's ideal of a grammar school college into a working institution. in the constitution which he gave to his college there were to be places found for both fellows and boys--_scholares and pueri_--but the _scholares_ were obviously to be men, and the _pueri_ simply schoolboys, for they were to be under fourteen years of age on admission; and _juvenes_, undergraduate scholars, did not enter into his plan. the amended statutes of his successors, bishops stanley and west, gave some definition to the founder's scheme, but they did not materially modify it. within fifty years, in fact, from its foundation, jesus college, as alcock had conceived it, had become an anachronism, and the claustral community of student priests with their schoolboy acolytes, not seriously concerned with true education, and unvivified by contact with the real student scholar, came near to perishing, as a thing born out of due season. the dawn of what might seem to be a better state of things only began with the endowment of scholarships--scholarships, that is to say, in the modern sense--in the reign of edward vi. it was only, however, with the university reforms of the nineteenth century that the proportion of college revenue allotted to such endowment fund was reasonably assessed. and yet with this somewhat meagre scholarship equipment the roll of eminent men belonging to jesus college is a worthy one. on the very first page of that roll we are confronted with the name of cranmer. we do not know the name of any student whose admission to the college preceded his. wary and sagacious then, as in later life, he had resisted the tempting offer of a fellowship at wolsey's new college of christ church at oxford to come to cambridge, there, it is true at first, "to be nursed in the grossest kind of sophistry, logic, philosophy, moral and natural (not in the text of the old philosophers, but chiefly in the dark riddles of duns and other subtle questionists), to his age of 22 years," but shortly, having taken his b.a. degree in 1511, to receive from erasmus, who in that year began to lecture at cambridge as lady margaret reader, his first bent towards those studies which led eventually to the publication of his "short instruction into christian religion," which it had been better had he himself more closely followed, and possibly towards that opportunist policy, which in the event ended so sadly for himself, and meant so much, both of evil and of good, to the future of both church and state in england. closely associated with cranmer were other jesus men, noted theologians of the reforming party;--john bale, afterwards bishop of ossory, called "bilious bale" by fuller because of the rancour of his attacks on his papal opponents, geoffry downs, thomas goodrich, afterwards bishop of ely, john edmunds, robert okyng, and others. in the list of succeeding archbishops claimed by the college as jesus men occur the names of herring, hutton, sterne. the sterne family indeed contribute not a few members through several generations to the college, not the least eminent being the author of "tristram shandy" and "the sentimental journey." the portraits of both laurence sterne and his great grandfather the archbishop hang on the walls of the dining-hall, the severe eyes of the caroline divine looking across as if with much disfavour at the trim and smiling figure of his descendant, the young cleric so unlike his idea of what a priest and scholar should be. other than "shandean" influence in the college is, however, suggested by the name of henry venn among the admissions of 1742, when he migrated to jesus after three months' residence at s. john's, and exercised an influence prophetic of the great movement of cambridge evangelicalism, prolonged far into the next century by venn's pupil and friend, charles simeon. it is probable, however, that there is no more brilliant page in the history of jesus college than that which tells the story of the last decade of the seventeenth century, and which contains the names of william otter, e. d. clarke, robert malthus, and samuel taylor coleridge. coleridge was elected a rustat scholar in 1791 and a foundation scholar in 1793, but he gained no academic distinction. there was no classical tripos in those days, and to obtain a chancellor's medal it was necessary that a candidate should have obtained honours in mathematics for which coleridge had all a poet's abhorrence. among the poems of his college days may be remembered, "a wish written in jesus wood, feb. 10, 1792," and the well-known "monologue to a young jackass in jesus piece." another poem more worthy of record perhaps, though he scribbled it in one of the college chapel prayer-books, is one of regretful pathos on the neglected "hours of youth," which finds a later echo in his "lines on an autumnal evening," where he alludes to his undergraduate days at jesus:-"when from the muses' calm abode i came, with learning's meed not unbestowed; whereas she twined a laurel round my brow, and met my kiss, and half returned my vow." and with that quotation from the jesus poet we may perhaps close this chapter, only adding one word of hearty agreement with that encomium which was passed upon the college by king james, who, because of the picturesqueness of its old buildings and the beauty and charm of its surroundings, spoke of jesus college as _musarum cantabrigiensium museum_, and also with that decision which on a second visit to cambridge his majesty wisely gave, that "were he to choose, he would pray at king's, dine at trinity, and study and sleep at jesus." chapter x colleges of the new learning "no more as once in sunny avignon, the poet-scholar spreads the homeric page, and gazes sadly, like the deaf at song: for now the old epic voices ring again and vibrate with the beat and melody stirred by the warmth of old ionian days." --mrs. browning. the lady margaret foundations--bishop fisher of rochester--the foundation of christ's--god's house--the buildings of the new college--college worthies--john milton--henry more--charles darwin--the hospital of the brethren of s. john--death of the lady margaret--foundation of s. john's college--its buildings--the great gateway--the new library--the bridge of sighs--the wilderness--wordsworth's "prelude"--the aims of bishop fisher--his death. we may well in this chapter take together the twin foundations of christ's college and s. john's which both had the lady margaret, countess of richmond and derby, and mother of henry vii. for their foundress. the father of this lady was john beaufort, duke of somerset, and her mother was margaret, daughter and heiress of sir john beauchamp, of bletso. "so that," says fuller, punning on her parents' names, "_fairfort_ and _fairfield_ met in this lady, who was fair body and fair soul, being the exactest pattern of the best devotion those days afforded, taxed for no personal faults but the errors of the age she lived in. john fisher, bishop of rochester, preached her funeral sermon, wherein he resembled her to martha in four respects: firstly, nobility of person; secondly, discipline of her body; thirdly, in ordering her soul to god; fourthly, in hospitality and charity." in that assemblage of noble lives, who from the earliest days of cambridge history have laboured for the benefit of the university, and left it so rich a store of intellectual good, there are no more honoured names than these two:--the lady margaret, countess of richmond, and her friend and confessor, bishop fisher, under whose wise and cautious supervision cambridge first tasted of the fruits of the renaissance, and welcomed erasmus, i fear with but a very tempered enthusiasm, to the newly-founded lady margaret chair, and yet, nevertheless, in that encouragement of the new learning laid the foundation of that sound method and apparatus of criticism which has enabled the university in an after age to take all knowledge for its province, and to represent its conquest by the foundation of twenty-five professorial chairs. john fisher, who came, as we have seen in the last chapter, from the abbey school at beverley, where, some twenty years or so before, he had been preceded by bishop alcock, was proctor of the university in 1494, and three years later, in 1497, was made master of his college, michaelhouse. the duties of the proctorial office necessitated at that time occasional attendance at court, and it was on the occasion of his appearance in this capacity at greenwich that fisher first attracted the notice of the lady margaret, who in 1497 appointed him her confessor. it was an auspicious conjunction for the university. under his inspiration the generosity of his powerful patron was readily extended to enrich academic resources. it was the laudable design of fisher to raise cambridge to the academic level which oxford had already reached. already students of the sister university had been to italy, and had returned full of the new learning. the fame of colet, grocyn, and linacre made oxford renowned, and drew to its lecture-rooms eager scholars from all the learned world. it hardly needed that such a man as erasmus should sing the praises of the oxford teachers. "when i listen to my friend colet," he wrote, "i seem to be listening to plato himself. who does not admire in grocyn the perfection of training? what can be more acute, more profound, or more refined than the judgment of linacre? what has nature ever fashioned gentler, sweeter, or pleasanter than the disposition of thomas more?"[68] it was natural therefore that fisher should be ambitious in the same direction for his own university. he began wisely on a small scale, with an object of immediate practical usefulness, the foundation of a divinity professorship, which should aim at teaching pulpit eloquence. on this point he rightly thought that the adherents of the old and the new learning might agree. and there was desperate need for the adventure. for with the close of the fifteenth century both theology and the art of preaching had sunk into general neglect. times, for example, had greatly changed since the day when bishop grosseteste had declared that if a priest could not preach, there was one remedy, let him resign his benefice. but now the sermon itself had ceased to be considered necessary. "latimer tells us that in his own recollection, sermons might be omitted for twenty sundays in succession without fear of complaint. even the devout more, in that ingenious romance which he designed as a covert satire on many of the abuses of his age, while giving an admirably conceived description of a religious service, has left the sermon altogether unrecognised. in the universities, for one master of arts or doctor of divinity who could make a text of scripture the basis of an earnest, simple, and effective homily, there were fifty who could discuss its moral, analogical, and figurative meaning, who could twist it into all kinds of unimagined significance, and give it a distorted, unnatural application. rare as was the sermon, the theologian in the form of a modest, reverent expounder of scripture was yet rarer. bewildered audiences were called upon to admire the performances of intellectual acrobats. skelton, who well knew the cambridge of these days, not inaptly described its young scholars as men who when they had "once superciliously caught a lytell ragge of rhetoricke, a lesse lumpe of logicke, a pece or patch of philosophy, then forthwith by and by they tumble so in theology, drowned in dregges of divinite that they juge themselfe alle to be doctours of the chayre in the vintre, at the three cranes to magnifye their names."[69] it was to remedy this state of things that, in the first instance, fisher set himself to work. the divinity professorship was soon supplemented by the lady margaret preachership, the holder of which was to go from place to place and give a cogent example in pulpit oratory: one sermon in the course of every two years at each of the following twelve places:- "on some sunday at s. paul's cross, if able to obtain permission, otherwise at s. margaret's, westminster, or if unable to preach there, then in one of the more notable churches of the city of london; and once on some feast day in each of the churches of ware and cheshunt in hertfordshire; bassingbourne, orwell and babraham in cambridgeshire; maney, st. james deeping, bourn, boston, and swineshead in lincolnshire."[70] we have already spoken in the chapter on queens' college of the work of erasmus at cambridge. he was summoned to cambridge in 1511 to teach greek and to lecture on the foundation of lady margaret. he himself tells us that within a space of thirty years the studies of the university had progressed from the old grammar, logic, and scholastic questions to some knowledge of the new learning, of the renewed study at any rate of aristotle, and the study of greek. the literary revival had no doubt been quicker and more brilliant at oxford, but cambridge, owing to fisher's cautious and careful supervision, and his foundation of the lady margaret colleges of christ's and s. john's, was the first to give to the new learning a permanent home. [illustration: the chapel, christ's college] the religious bias of the countess of richmond had inclined her to devote the bulk of her fortune to an extension of the great monastery of westminster. but bishop fisher knew that active learning rather than lazy seclusion was essential to preserve the church against the dangerous italian type of the renaissance, and he persuaded her to direct her gift to educational purposes. he pointed out that the abbey church was already the wealthiest in england, "that the schools of learning were meanly endowed, the provisions of scholars very few and small, and colleges yet wanting to their maintenance--that by such foundations she might have two ends and designs at once, might double her charity and double her reward, by affording as well supports to learning as encouragement to virtue." the foundation of christ's college in 1505 is an enduring memorial of the wisdom of the bishop and the charity of the lady margaret. there is a tradition that fisher, who undoubtedly had joined michaelhouse before taking his b.a. degree in 1487, had, upon his first entering cambridge, been a student of god's house. however that may be, it was to this small foundation he turned as the basis of his projected new college. god's house, an adjunct of clare-hall, founded by william byngham, rector of s. john zachary, in london, in 1441, stood originally on a plot of land at the west end of king's chapel, adjoining the church of s. john zachary. in the changes which were necessary to secure a site for king's college, the church of s. john and god's house were removed. in return for his surrender, byngham had received license from henry vi. to build elsewhere a college. land was accordingly secured on what is now the site of the first and second courts of christ's college, and in the charter of the new god's house, dated 16th april 1448, it is stated that byngham had deferred the foundation owing to his ardent desire that "the king's glory and his reward in heaven might be increased" by his personal foundation of god's house. henry could not resist such an argument, and thus god's house became, and christ's college, as its successor, claims to be, of royal foundation. the little foundation, however, was always cramped by lack of means. within fifty years of its first foundation the time had evidently come for a reconstitution of god's house. "in the year 1505 appeared the royal charter for the foundation of christ's college, wherein after a recital of the facts already mentioned, together with other details, it was notified that king henry vii., at the representation of his mother and other noble and trustworthy persons--_percarissimæ matris nostræ necnon aliorum nobilium et fide dignorum_--and having regard to her great desire to exalt and increase the christian faith, her anxiety for her own spiritual welfare, and the sincere love which she had ever borne 'our uncle' (henry vi.) while he lived--had conceded to her permission to carry into full effect the designs of her illustrious relative; that is to say, to enlarge and endow the aforesaid god's house sufficiently for the reception and support of any number of scholars not exceeding sixty, who should be instructed in grammar or in the other liberal sciences and faculties or in sacred theology."[71] the arrival of the charter was soon followed by the news of the lady margaret's noble benefactions--consisting of many manors in the four counties of cambridge, norfolk, leicester, and essex--which thus exalted the humble and struggling society of god's house, under its new designation of christ's college, into the fourth place in respect of revenue, among all the cambridge colleges. the building of the college seems to have gone on uninterruptedly between 1505 and 1511. the amount spent by the foundress during her lifetime is not ascertainable; but the cost, as given in the household books of the lady margaret after her death, was more than £1000. "though the college," says the present master, dr. peile, "had no very striking architectural features, the general effect, as seen in loggan's view, is good. we see the old mullioned windows supplanted by sash windows in the last century: and the battlements inside the court as well as without, which were displaced by essex to make way for the solid parapet, which still remains, and indeed suits the new windows better. the original windows have recently been restored with very good effect. we see a path, called the regent's walk, running from the great gate directly across the court to a door which gave entrance to the great parlour in the lodge, then the reception-room of the college, and now the masters' dining-room. that room has been reduced in size by a passage made between it and the hall. the passage leads to the winding stone staircase which gave the only access to this suite of three rooms on the first floor, corresponding exactly with those below, and reserved by the foundress for her own use during life, while the master contented himself with the three rooms on the ground floor. the foundress's suite consisted of a large ante-room (commonly but wrongly called the foundress's bed-chamber) with a little lobby in one corner at the entrance from the old staircase. the second room (now the drawing-room) was the foundress's own living room; it has an oriel window looking into the court, not much injured by the removal of the mullions." we may interrupt the master's record here to tell the characteristic story of the lady margaret which most probably has this oriel window for its scene: "once the lady margaret came to christ's college to behold it when partly built; and looking out of a window, saw the dean call a faulty scholar to correction, to whom she said, '_lente! lente!_' (gently! gently!) as accounting it better to mitigate his punishment than to procure his pardon: mercy and justice making the best medley to offenders."[72] "the foundress's sitting-room has a very interesting stone chimney-piece adorned with fourteen badges (originally sixteen), including a rose (repeated twice), a portcullis--the beaufort badge (repeated once), three ostrich feathers (a badge assumed by edward iii. in right of his wife), a crown, a fleur-de-lis (repeated once), the letters h.r., doubtless henricus rex (repeated once), and lastly (twice repeated though the form differs) the special badge of the lady margaret--groups of marguerites, in one case represented as growing in a basket. this very beautiful work was brought to light in 1887; it had been covered up by the insertion of a modern fireplace, whereby two of the badges were destroyed. the whole had been coloured: there were traces of a deep blue pigment on the stone between the badges, and on the jambs was scroll-work in black and yellow. the remaining space between the drawing-room and the chapel contained at its eastern end a private oratory with its window opening into the chapel, closed up in 1702, but reopened in 1899; it was connected with the drawing-room by a door, which was revealed when the walls of the oratory were stripped. at the western end was a small room looking into the court, probably the bedroom of the foundress, connected by a door, now visible, with the oratory; this room was swept away when the present staircase was introduced, probably in the seventeenth century; further access had become necessary, because at that time several of the masters let the best rooms of the lodge, and lived themselves in what was called the little lodge, a building of considerable size to the north of the chapel, intended originally for offices to the lodge."[73] [illustration: jack in wolsey's kitchen christ's college] the hall, between the lodge and the buttery, has no exceptional features. early in the eighteenth century it was entirely italianised, as also were many of the other buildings. it was entirely rebuilt by sir gilbert scott in 1876, the old roof, with its ancient chestnut principals, being reconstructed and replaced. the walls were raised six feet and an oriel window was built on the east side in addition to the original one on the west. in 1882 and following years portraits of the founders, of benefactors, and of worthies of the college were placed in the twenty-one lights of the west oriel. the persons chosen as "glass-worthy" were william bingham, henry vi., john fisher, lady margaret, edward vi., sir john finch, sir thomas baines, john leland, edmund grindall, sir walter mildmay, john still, william perkins, william lee, sir john harrington (this because of a mistaken claim on the part of christ's, for harrington was a king's man, and possibly also of trinity at a later date), francis quarles, john milton, john cleveland, henry more, ralph cudworth, william paley, charles darwin. the glass-work was executed by burlison & grylls. at an early period "a very considerable part of y^{e} schollars of christ college lodged in y^{e} brazen george; and y^{e} gates there were shut and opened morning and evening constantly as y^{e} college gates were." the brazen george inn stood on the other side of s. andrew's street, opposite to the south-east corner of the college. alexandra street no doubt represents the inn yard. in 1613 the accommodation in the college was further increased by the erection of a range of buildings in the second court. this was a timber building of two stories with attics. in 1665 it is described as "the little old building called rat's hall." it was pulled down in 1730; the large range of buildings known as the fellows' buildings, parallel to rat's hall and further east, having been erected, according to tradition, by inigo jones about 1640. a large range of building, similar in style to the fellows' building, was erected in 1889, and in 1895-97 messrs. bodley & garner enlarged the old library, and altered and refaced the street front, extending the building to christ's lane, and thus added much to the dignity of the college buildings, as seen from s. andrew's street. the "re-beautifying the chappell," as the then master, dr. covel, called it, took place in 1702-3, when it was panelled by john austin, who did similar work about the same time in king's college chapel. the chapel has no remarkable or beautiful features. it is unnecessary to contradict the verdict of the present master: "it must have been much more beautiful during the first fifty years of the college than at any later time." [illustration: the courtyard of the wrestlers inn. _to face p._ 220] in the list of twenty-one names which we give above as being "glass-worthy," we have also, no doubt, the list of the most eminent members of christ's college. of these the two greatest are undoubtedly john milton and charles darwin. milton was admitted a pensioner of christ's college on 12th february 1624-25, and was matriculated on 9th april following. he resided at cambridge in all some seven years, from february 1625 to july 1632. his rooms were on the left side of the great court as it is entered from the street, the first floor rooms on the first staircase on that side. they consist at present of a small study with two windows looking into the court, and a very small bedroom adjoining, and they have not probably been altered since his time. in the gardens behind the fellows' buildings, perhaps the most delightful of all the college gardens in cambridge, is the celebrated mulberry tree, which an unvarying tradition asserts to have been planted by milton. "unvarying," i have ventured to write, for i dare not repeat the heresy of which mr. j. w. clark was guilty when he suggested that milton's mulberry tree was in reality one of three hundred which the college bought to please james i., and which was "set" by troilus atkinson, the college factotum, in the very year that milton was born. concerning such heresy i can only repeat the rebuke of the present master: "the suggestion that the object of wider interest than anything else in christ's--'milton's mulberry tree'--is probably the last of that purchase, is the one crime among a thousand virtues of the present registrary of the university." milton took his b.a. degree 26th march 1629, the year in which he wrote that noble "ode on the nativity," in which the characteristic majesty of his style is already well marked. three years earlier at least he had already written poems--the epitaph "on the death of an infant":-"o fairest flow'r no sooner blown than blasted, soft, silken primrose fading timelessly, summer's chief honour" ... hardly less beautiful than the slightly later dirge "on the marchioness of winchester":-"here besides the sorrowing that thy noble house doth bring, here be tears of perfect moan wept for thee in helicon," which in their exquisite grace and tenderness of wording scarcely fall below the mastery of the mightier measure and deeper thought of "lycidas," written in 1637. of his latin poems, written also during his undergraduate years, dr. peile has said--and on such a point there could be no higher authority:--"even then he thought in latin: his exercises are original poems, not mere clever imitations. there is remarkable power in them--power which could only be gained by one who had filled himself with the spirit of classical literature." after this testimony we can assuredly afford to smile at those rumours of some disgrace in his university career spread about in later years by his detractors. that he had met perhaps, according to aubrey's account, with "some unkindnesse" from his tutor chapell, even though that phrase by an amended reading is interpreted "whipt him," need not distress us. it is a doubtful piece of gossip, and even if it were true--for flogging of students was by no means obsolete--it was a story to the tutor's disgrace, not to milton's; and certainly the poet himself bore no grudge against the college authorities, as these magnanimous words plainly testify:- "i acknowledge publicly with all grateful mind, that more than ordinary respect which i found, above any of my equals, at the hands of those courteous and learned men, the fellows of that college, wherein i spent some years; who, at my parting, after i had taken two degrees, as the manner is, signified many ways how much better it would content them that i would stay; as by many letters full of kindness and loving respect, both before that time and long after, i was assured of their singular good affection towards me."[74] between the matriculation of john milton at christ's and that of charles darwin at the same college is a period exactly of two centuries. the christ's roll of honour for that period contains many worthy names, but none certainly which shed a brighter lustre on the college history than that of henry more, a leader in that remarkable school of thinkers in the seventeenth century--benjamin whichcote, ralph cudworth, john smith, john worthington, samuel cradock--known as "the cambridge platonists," for whom burnet claims the high credit of "having saved the church from losing the esteem of the kingdom," and whose distinctive teaching is perhaps best brought out in more's writings. henry more had been admitted to christ's college about the time when john milton was leaving it. he was elected a fellow of the college in 1639, and thenceforth lived almost entirely within its walls. like many others, he began as a poet and ended as a prose writer. he had, in fact, the platonic temperament in far greater measure probably than any other of the cambridge school. how the soul should escape from its animal prison--when it should get the wings that of right should belong to it--into what regions those wings could carry it--were the questions which occupied him from youth upwards. "i would sing," he had said in one of his platonical poems, "the pre-existency of human souls, and live once more again, by recollection and quick memory, all what is past since first we all began." but the neo-platonic extravagances which lay hidden in his writings from the first grew at last into a new species of fanaticism, which makes his later books quite unreadable. and yet he remains perhaps the most typical, certainly the most interesting, of all the cambridge platonists, and at least he held true to the two great springs of the movement--an unshrinking appeal to reason, coupled with profound faith in the essential harmony of natural and spiritual truth--doctrines which are of the very pith of the seventeenth century cambridge evangel, and which one is glad to think remain of the very essence of the cambridge theology of to-day. that henry more and the cambridge platonists failed in much that they attempted cannot be denied. they failed partly because of their own weakness, but partly also because the time was not yet ripe for an adequate spiritual philosophy. such a philosophy of religion can indeed only rise gradually on a comprehensive basis of historic criticism, and of a criticism which has realised not only that religious thought can no more transcend history than science can transcend nature, but has also learnt the lesson--which no man has more clearly taught to the students of history and of science alike, in the century which has just closed, than that latest and greatest of the sons of christ's college, charles darwin--that knowledge is to be found not only in sudden illumination, but in the slow processes of evolution, and progress not in pet theories of this or that ancient or modern thinker, but only in patient study and faithful generalisation. let us turn now to the second and perhaps greater lady margaret foundation of s. john's college. three years after henry vi.'s incompleted foundation of god's house had been enriched by a fair portion of the lady margaret's lands and opened as christ's college, the oxford friends of the countess petitioned her for help in the endowment of a college in that university. for a time it seemed as if christ's church was to have the lady margaret and not cardinal wolsey as its founder. but bishop fisher again successfully pleaded the cause of his own university, and the royal licence to refound the corrupt monastic hospital of s. john as a great and wealthy college was obtained in 1508. of the hospital of the brethren of s. john the evangelist, which was founded in the year 1135, we have already spoken in the chapter on peterhouse. it owed its origin to an opulent cambridge burgess, henry frost, and was placed under the direction of a small community of augustinian canons, an order whose rule very closely resembled that of a monastery, their duties consisting mainly in the performance of religious services, and in caring for the poor and infirm. the patronage which the little community received would seem to show that, during its earlier history at least, the brethren of s. john had faithfully discharged their duties. several of the early bishops of ely took the hospital under their direct patronage. bishop eustace, a prelate who played a foremost part in stephen's reign, appropriated to it the livings of homingsea and of s. peter's church in cambridge, now known as little s. mary's. bishop hugh de balsham, as we have seen in our account of his foundation of peterhouse, endeavoured to utilise the hospital for the accommodation of the many students who in his time were flocking to the university in quest of knowledge, and to that end endowed the hospital with additional revenues. after the failure of that scheme and the successful foundation of peterhouse, bishop simon montagu came to the help of the little house, and decreed, that in compensation for the loss of s. peter's church, the master and fellows of peterhouse should pay to the brethren of s. john a sum of twenty shillings annually, a payment which has regularly been made down to the present day. the hospital continued to grow in wealth and importance down to the time of its "decay and fall" in henry vii.'s reign. the last twelve years of the fifteenth century, under the misrule of its then master, william tomlyn, saw its estates mortgaged or let on long leases, its discipline lax and scandalous, its furniture, and even sacred vessels, sold. at the beginning of the sixteenth century it had fallen into poverty and decay, and the number of its brethren had dwindled to two. its condition is described in words identical with those applied to the priory of s. rhadegund.[75] the words, as given in the charter of s. john's college, are these:- "the house or priory of the brethren of s. john the evangelist, its lands, tenements, rents, possessions, buildings, as well as its effects, furniture, jewels and other ornaments in the church, conferred upon the said house or priory in former times, have now been so grievously dilapidated, destroyed, wasted, alienated, diminished and made away with, by the carelessness, prodigality, improvidence and dissolute conduct of the prior, master and brethren of the aforesaid house or priory; and the brethren themselves have been reduced to such want and poverty that they are unable to perform divine service, or their accustomed duties whether of religion, mercy or hospitality, according to the original ordinance of their founders, or even to maintain themselves by reason of their poverty and want of means of support; inasmuch as for a long while two brethren only have been maintained in the aforesaid house, and these are in the habit of straying abroad in all directions beyond the precincts of the said religious house, to the grave displeasure of almighty god, the discredit of their order, and the scandal of their church." the legal formalities necessary for the suppression of the hospital were so tedious, that it was not "utterly extinguished," as baker, the historian of s. john's, called its dissolution, until january 1510, when it fell, "a lasting monument to all future ages and to all charitable and religious foundations not to neglect the rules or abuse the institutions of their founders, lest they fall under the same fate." meanwhile, before these difficulties could be entirely overcome, king henry vii. died, and within little more than two months after, the lady margaret herself was laid to rest by the side of her royal son in westminster abbey. erasmus composed her epitaph. skelton sang her elegy. torregiano, the florentine sculptor, immortalised her features in that monumental effigy which dean stanley has characterised as "the most beautiful and venerable figure that the abbey contains." bishop fisher, who two months before had preached the funeral sermon for her son henry vii., preached again, and with a far deeper earnestness, on the loss which, to him at least, could never be replaced. [illustration: entrance s. john's college] "every one that knew her," he said, "loved her, and everything that she said or did became her ... of marvellous gentleness she was unto all folks, but especially unto her own, whom she trusted and loved right tenderly.... all england for her death hath cause of weeping. the poor creatures who were wont to receive her alms, to whom she was always piteous and merciful; the students of both the universities, to whom she was as a mother; all the learned men of england, to whom she was a very patroness; all the virtuous and devout persons, to whom she was as a loving sister; all the good religious men and women whom she so often was wont to visit and comfort; all good priests and clerks, to whom she was a true defendress; all the noblemen and women, to whom she was a mirror and example of honour; all the common people of this realm, to whom she was in their causes a woman mediatrix and took right great displeasure for them; and generally the whole realm, hath cause to complain and to mourn her death." the executors of the lady margaret were richard fox, bishop of winchester; john fisher, bishop of rochester; charles somerset; lord herbert, afterwards earl of worcester; sir thomas lovell, knight; sir henry marney, knight, afterwards lord marney; sir john st. john, knight; henry hornby, clerk; and hugh ashton, clerk. unforeseen difficulties, however, soon arose. the young king looked coldly on a project which involved a substantial diminution of the inheritance which he had anticipated from his grandmother, while the young bishop of ely--"the dunce bishop of ely"--james stanley,[76] although stepson to the countess, and solely indebted to her for promotion to his see, a dignity which he little merited, did his best after her death to avert the dissolution of the hospital. as a result of this opposition of the court party, to which no less a person than cardinal wolsey, out of jealousy it would seem for his own university, lent his powerful support, lady margaret's executors found themselves compelled to forego their claims, and the munificent bequest intended by the foundress was lost to the college for ever. as some compensation for the loss sustained the untiring exertions of bishop fisher succeeded in obtaining for the college the revenues of another god's house, a decayed society at ospringe, in kent, and certain other small estates, producing altogether an income of £80. "this," says baker, "with the lands of the old house, together with the foundress's estate at fordham, which was charged with debts by her will, and came so charged to the college, with some other little things purchased with her moneys at steukley, bradley, isleham, and foxton (the two last alienated or lost), was the original foundation upon which the college was first opened; and whoever dreams of vast revenues or larger endowments will be mightily mistaken." [illustration: gateway s. john's college] such were the conditions under which the new society of the college of s. john the evangelist was at last formed in 1511, and robert shorten appointed master with thirty-one fellows. during shorton's brief tenure of the mastership (1511-16) it devolved upon him to watch the progress of the new building, which now rose on the site of the hospital, and included a certain portion of the ancient structure. "some three centuries and a half later, in 1869, when the old chapel gave place to the present splendid erection, the process of demolition laid bare to view some interesting features in the ancient pre-collegiate buildings. members of the college, prior to the year 1863, can still remember 'the labyrinth'--the name given to a series of students' rooms approached by a tortuous passage which wound its way from the first court, north of the gateway opening upon saint john's street. these rooms were now ascertained to have been formed out of the ancient infirmary--a fine single room, some 78 feet in length and 22 in breadth, which during the mastership of william whitaker (1586-95) had been converted into three floors of students' chambers. removal of the plaster which covered the south wall of the original building further brought to light a series of early english lancet windows, erected probably with the rest of the structure, sometime between the years 1180 and 1200. between the first and second of these windows stood a very beautiful double piscina which sir gilbert scott repaired and transferred to the new chapel. the chapel of the hospital had been altered to suit the needs of the college, and in babington's opinion was very much 'changed for the worse.' the early english windows gave place to smaller perpendicular windows, inserted in the original openings, while the pitch of the roof was considerably lowered. the contract is still extant made between shorton and the glazier, covenanting for the insertion of 'good and noble normandy glasse,' in certain specified portions of which were to appear 'roses and portcullis,' the arms of 'the excellent pryncesse margaret, late countesse of rychemond and derby,' while the colouring and designs were to be the same 'as be in the glasse wyndowes within the collegge called christes collegge in cambrigge or better in euery poynte.'"[77] the buildings of s. john's college consist of four quadrangles disposed in succession from east to west, and extending to a length of some nearly 300 yards. the westernmost court is across the river, approached by the well-known "bridge of sighs," built in 1831. the easternmost court, facing on the high street, is the primitive quadrangle, and for nearly a century after the foundation comprised the whole college. the plan closely follows what we have now come to regard as the normal arrangement, and is almost identical with that of queens'. [illustration: s. john's college from the backs] the great gateway, which is in the centre of the eastern range of buildings, is by far the most striking and beautiful gate in all cambridge. it is of red brick with stone quoins. the sculpture in the space over the arch commemorates the founders, the lady margaret and her son king henry vii. in the centre is a shield bearing the arms of england and france quarterly, supported by the beaufort antelopes. above it is a crown beneath a rose. to the right and left are the portcullis and rose of the tudors, both crowned. the whole ground is sprinkled with daisies, the peculiar emblem of the foundress. they appear in the crown above the portcullis. they cluster beneath the string course. mixed with other flowers they form a groundwork to the heraldic devices. above all, in a niche, is the statue of s. john. the present figure was set up in 1662. the original figure was removed during the civil war. there is evidence that at one time the arms were emblazoned in gold and colours, and that the horns of the antelopes were gilt. over the gateway is the treasury. the first floor of the range of buildings to the south of the treasury contained at first the library. the position of this old library is the only feature in the arrangement of the buildings in which s. john's differs from queens'. [illustration: oriel in library, s. john's college] the second court, a spacious quadrangle, considerably larger than the first, was commenced in 1598, and finished in 1602, the greater part of the cost being defrayed by the countess of salisbury. in the west range there is a large gateway tower. the first floor of the north range contains the master's long gallery--a beautiful room with panelled walls and a rich plaster ceiling. in this fine chamber for successive centuries the head of the college was accustomed to entertain his guests, among whom royalty was on several occasions included. according to the historian carter, down even to the middle of the last century it still remained the longest room in the university, and when the door of the library was thrown open, the entire vista presented what he describes as a "most charming view." it was originally 148 feet long, but owing to various rearrangements its dimensions have been reduced to 93 feet. it is now used as a combination room by the fellows. the new library building, which forms the north side of the third court, was built in 1624. it is reached by a staircase built in the north-west corner of the second court. the windows of the library are pointed and filled with fairly good geometrical tracery, while the level of the floor and the top of the wall are marked by classical entablatures. the wall is finished by a good parapet, which originally had on each battlement three little pinnacles like those still remaining on the parapet of the oriel window in the west gable. this gable stands above the river, and forms with the adjoining buildings a most picturesque group. the name of bishop williams of lincoln, lord keeper of the great seal, who had contributed as "an unknown person" two-thirds of the entire cost of £3000, is commemorated by the letters i.l.c.s. (_i.e._ _johannes lincolniensis custos sigilli_), together with the date 1624, which appear conspicuously over the central gable. his arms, richly emblazoned, were suspended over the library door, and his portrait, painted by gilbert jackson, adorns the wall. the original library bookcases remain, though their forms have been considerably altered. the west range of the second court and the new library formed two sides of the third court. the remaining river range and the buildings on the south adjoining the back lane were added about fifty years later. they were probably designed by nicholas hawkes, then a pupil of sir christopher wren. the central composition of the western range was designed as an approach to a footbridge leading to the college walks across the river. this footbridge gave way to the covered new bridge, commonly spoken of as the bridge of sighs from its superficial resemblance to the so-called structure at venice, leading to the fourth court, which was completed in 1831 from the plans of rickman and hutchinson. the old bridge, leading from the back lane, was built in 1696. beyond the new court are the extensive gardens, on the western side of which is "the wilderness," commemorated by wordsworth, who was an undergraduate of john's from 1787 to 1791, in the well-known lines of his prelude:-"all winter long whenever free to choose, did i by night frequent the college grove and tributary walks; the last and oft the only one who had been lingering there through hours of silence, till the porter's bell, a punctual follower on the stroke of nine, rang with its blunt unceremonious voice inexorable summons. lofty elms, inviting shades of opportune recess, bestowed composure on a neighbourhood unpeaceful in itself. a single tree with sinuous trunk, boughs exquisitely wreathed, grew there; an ash, which winter for himself decked out with pride, and with outlandish grace; up from the ground and almost to the top the trunk and every mother-branch were green with clustering ivy, and the lightsome twigs the outer spray profusely tipped with seeds that hung in yellow tassels, while the air stirred them, not voiceless. often have i stood foot-bound, uplooking at this lovely tree beneath a frosty moon. the hemisphere of magic fiction verse of mine perchance may never tread; but scarcely spenser's self could have more tranquil visions in his youth, or could more bright appearances create of human forms with superhuman powers than i beheld, loitering on calm clear nights alone, beneath the fairy-work of earth." [illustration: bridge of sighs s. john's college] the new chapel of s. john's, designed by sir gilbert scott in a style of pointed architecture, repeating, with some added degree of richness, the same architect's design of exeter college chapel at oxford, was begun in 1863 and finished in 1869. the scheme involved the destruction of the old chapel and the still earlier building to the north of it. the hall was enlarged by adding to it the space formerly occupied by the master's lodge, a new lodge being built to the north of the third court, and the master's gallery being converted into the fellows' combination room. the stalls from the old chapel were refixed in the new building, and some new stalls were added. the beautiful early english piscina, three arches and some monuments were also removed from the old chapel. * * * * * considerations of space compel me to bring this chapter to a conclusion. i have spoken of the two lady margaret foundations as colleges of the new learning. how far they have succeeded in fulfilling the aims of their founder only a careful study of their subsequent history can tell, and for that we have not space. but this, at least, we may say, that a college in which, generation after generation, there were enrolled men of such varying parts and powers as sir thomas wyatt and william grindall; as sir john cheke and roger ascham, the former the tutor of edward vi., the latter of queen elizabeth, and both famous as among the most sagacious and original thinkers on the subject of education; as robert greene and thomas nash, the dramatists; as robert cecil, earl of salisbury, and thomas cartwright, "the most learned of that sect of dissenters called puritans"; of john dee, mathematician and astrologer, the editor of euclid's "elements," and william lee, the inventor of the stocking-frame; of roger dodsworth, the antiquary, and thomas sutton, the founder of charterhouse; as thomas baker, the historian of the college, and richard bentley, the great scholar and critic; as henry constable, and robert herrick and mark akenside and robert otway and henry kirke white and william wordsworth--a galaxy of names which seems to prove that not cambridge only, but s. john's college, is "the mother of poets"--as william wilberforce and thomas clarkson, can hardly be said not to have contributed much to the history of english culture and english learning, to the extension of the older classical studies, and to the advance of the newer science, to that wider and freer outlook upon the world and upon life to which so much that is best in our modern civilisation may be traced, and all of which took its origin from that movement of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries which we know by the name of the renaissance. of the genuine attachment of bishop fisher, the true founder of s. john's, to the new learning there can be no doubt. he showed it clearly enough by the sympathy which he evinced with the new spirit of biblical criticism, and by the friendship with erasmus, which induced that great scholar to accept the lady margaret professorship at cambridge. that the study of greek was allowed to go on in the university without that active antagonism which it encountered at oxford was mainly owing--it is the testimony of erasmus himself--to the powerful protection which it received from bishop fisher. on the other hand, it cannot be denied that his attachment to the papal cause, and his hostility to luther, whom he rightly enough regarded as a reformer of a very different type to that of his friends erasmus, colet, and more, remained unshaken. [illustration: tower & turrets of trinity from s. john's college] on the occasion of the burning of luther's writings in s. paul's churchyard in 1521, he had preached against the great reformer at paul's cross before wolsey and warham, a sermon which was subsequently handled with severity by william tyndall. it is, in fact, not difficult to recognise in the various codes of statutes, which from time to time he gave to his college foundations, evidence of both the strength and weakness of his character. in 1516 he had given to s. john's statutes which were identical with those of christ's college. but in 1524 he substituted for these another code, and in 1530 a third. in this final code, accordingly, among many provisions, characterised by much prudent forethought, and amid statutes which really point to something like a revolution in academic study, we see plainly enough signs of timorous distrust, not to say a pusillanimous anxiety against all innovations whatever in the future. but in one cause, at any rate, he bore a noble part, and for it he died a noble death. his opposition to the divorce of king henry and queen catharine was not less honourable than it was consistent, and he stood alone among the bishops of the realm in his refusal to recognise the validity of the measure. it was, in fact, his unflinching firmness in regard to the act of supremacy which finally sealed his fate. the story of his trial and death are matters that belong to english history. the pathos of it we can all feel as we read the pages in which froude has told the story in his "history," and its moral, we may perhaps also feel, has not been unfitly pointed by mr. mullinger in his "history of the university." here are froude's words:- "mercy was not to be hoped for. it does not seem to have been sought. he was past eighty. the earth on the edge of the grave was already crumbling under his feet; and death had little to make it fearful. when the last morning dawned, he dressed himself carefully--as he said, for his marriage day. the distance to tower hill was short. he was able to walk; and he tottered out of the prison gates, holding in his hand a closed volume of the new testament. the crowd flocked about him, and he was heard to pray that, as this book had been his best comfort and companion, so in that hour it might give him some special strength, and speak to him as from his lord. then opening it at a venture, he read: 'this is life eternal, to know thee, the only true god, and jesus christ, whom thou hast sent.' it was the answer to his prayer; and he continued to repeat the words as he was led forward. on the scaffold he chanted the _te deum_, and then, after a few prayers, knelt down, and meekly laid his head upon a pillow where neither care nor fear nor sickness would ever vex it more. many a spectacle of sorrow had been witnessed on that tragic spot, but never one more sad than this; never one more painful to think or speak of. when a nation is in the throes of revolution, wild spirits are abroad in the storm: and poor human nature presses blindly forward with the burden which is laid upon it, tossing aside the obstacles in its path with a recklessness which, in calmer hours, it would fear to contemplate."[78] and here are mr. mullinger's:- "when it was known at cambridge that the chancellor (fisher) was under arrest, it seemed as though a dark cloud had gathered over the university; and at those colleges which had been his peculiar care the sorrow was deeper than could find vent in language. the men, who ever since their academic life began, had been conscious of his watchful oversight and protection, who as they had grown up to manhood had been honoured by his friendship, aided by his bounty, stimulated by his example to all that was commendable and of good report, could not see his approaching fate without bitter and deep emotion; and rarely in the correspondence of colleges is there to be found such an expression of pathetic grief as the letter in which the society of s. john's addressed their beloved patron in his hour of trial. in the hall of that ancient foundation his portrait still looks down upon those who, generation after generation, enter to reap where he sowed. delineated with all the severe fidelity of the art of that period, we may discern the asceticism of the ecclesiastic blending with the natural kindliness of the man, the wide sympathies with the stern convictions. within those walls have since been wont to assemble not a few who have risen to eminence and renown. but the college of st. john the evangelist can point to none in the long array to whom her debt of gratitude is greater, who have laboured more untiredly or more disinterestedly in the cause of learning, or who by a holy life and heroic death are more worthy to survive in the memories of her sons."[79] chapter xi a small and a great college "quæ ponti vicina vides, audelius olim coepit et adversi posuit fundamina muri: et coeptum perfecit opus staffordius heros quem genuit maribus regio celeberrima damis. * * * * * quattuor inde novis quæ turribus alta minantur et nivea immenso diffundunt atria circo, ordine postremus, sed non virtutibus, auxit henricus tecta, et triplices cum jungeret sedes, imposuit nomen facto." --giles fletcher, 1633. dissolution of the monasteries--schemes for collegiate spoliation checked by henry viii.--monks' or buckingham college--refounded by sir thomas audley as magdalene college--conversion of the old buildings--the pepysian library--foundation of trinity college--michaelhouse and the king's hall--king edward's gate--the queen's gate--the great gate--dr. thomas neville--the great court--the hall--neville's court--new court--dr. bentley--"a house of all kinds of good letters." the dissolution of the monasteries by henry viii. and the confiscation of their great estates naturally created a sense of foreboding in the universities that it would not be long before the college estates shared the same fate. there were not wanting, we may be sure, greedy courtiers prepared with schemes of collegiate spoliation. if we may trust, however, the testimony of harrison in his "description of england,"[80] the hopes of the despoiler were effectually checked by the king himself. "ah, sirha," he is reported to have said to some who had ventured to make proposals for such despoilment, "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 a dispersion 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." these are brave words, and we may hope that they were sincere. they may seem, perhaps, to receive some confirmation of sincerity from the fact that that munificent donor of other people's property did himself erect upon the ruins of more than one earlier foundation that great college, whose predominance in the university has from that time onwards been so marked a feature of cambridge life. it is the opinion of huber,[81] that the uncertainty and depression caused in the universities by these fears of confiscation did not subside until well on in the reign of elizabeth. * * * * * in the year 1542, however, four years before the foundation of trinity college by henry viii., the spoliation of the monasteries was turned to the advantage of the university in a somewhat remarkable manner. on the further side of the river cam, "cut off," as fuller describes it, "from the continent of cambridge," there stood an ancient religious house known at this time as buckingham college. "formerly it was a place where many monks lived, on the charge of their respective convent, being very fit for solitary persons by the situation thereof. for it stood on the transcantine side, an anchoret in itself, severed by the river from the rest of the university. here the monks some seven years since had once and again lodged and feasted edward stafford, the last duke of buckingham of that family. great men best may, good men always will, be grateful guests to such as entertain them. both qualifications met in this duke and then no wonder if he largely requited his welcome. he changed the name of the house into buckingham college, began to build, and purposed to endow the same, no doubt in some proportion to his own high and rich estate."[82] the foundation of this monks' college had dated as far back as the year 1428, when the benedictines of croyland erected a building for the accommodation of those monks belonging to their house who wished to repair to cambridge, "to study the canon law and the holy scriptures," and yet to reside under their own monastic rule. from time to time other benedictines of the neighbourhood--ely, ramsey, walden--added additional chambers to the hostel--croyland abbey, however, remaining the superior house. [illustration: the library, chapel and hall, magdalene college] a hall was built in connection with the college in 1519 by edward, duke of buckingham, son of the former benefactor, and it is probably to this date that we may refer the secular or semi-secular foundation of the college. certainly at this period the secular element of the college must have been considerable, for we find cranmer, on his resignation of his fellowship at jesus on account of his marriage, supporting himself by giving lectures at buckingham college. sir robert rede, the founder of the rede lectureship in the university, and thomas audley, the future lord chancellor, are also said to have received their education in this college. at any rate there can be little doubt that it was this semi-secular character of the college at this period which saved it from the operations of the successive acts for the dissolution of the monastic bodies. in the year 1542 buckingham college was converted by sir thomas audley into magdalene college. "thomas, lord audley of walden," says fuller, "chancellor of england, by licence obtained from king henry viii., changed buckingham into magdalene (vulgarly maudlin) college, because, as some[83] will have it, his surname is therein contained betwixt the initial and final letters thereof--_m'audley'n_. this may well be indulged to his fancy, whilst more solid considerations moved him to the work itself." what those "more solid considerations" may have been it is difficult, in relation to such a founder, to divine. he was a man who had gradually amassed considerable wealth by a singular combination of talent, audacity, and craft, one who, in the language of lloyd in his "state worthies," was "well seen in the flexures and windings of affairs at the depths whereof other heads not so steady turned giddy." he was speaker of the house of commons in that parliament by whose aid henry viii. had finally separated himself and his kingdom from all allegiance to the see of rome, and of whose further measures for ecclesiastical reform at home bishop fisher had exclaimed in the house of lords: "my lords, you see daily what bills come hither from the common house, and all is to the destruction of the church. for god's sake, see what a realm the kingdom of bohemia was, and when the church went down, then fell the glory of the kingdom. now with the commons is nothing but 'down with the church!' and all this meseemeth is for lack of faith only." sir thomas audley had been one of the first to profit by the plunder of the monasteries. "he had had," as fuller terms it, "the first cut in the feast of abbey lands." he was also one of those who shared in its final distribution. as a reward for his services as lord chancellor--and what those services must have been as "the keeper of the conscience" of such a king as henry viii. we need not trouble to inquire--a few more of the suppressed monasteries were granted to him at the general dissolution, among which, at his own earnest suit, was the abbey of walden in essex. walden was one of the benedictine houses that had been associated in the early days with monks', now buckingham college. whether the newly-created lord of walden regarded himself as inheriting also the monks' rights and responsibilities in connection with the cambridge college or not, or whether, being an old man now and infirm and with no male heir, he thought to find some solace for his conscience in the thought of himself as the benefactor and founder of a permanent college, i cannot say. certain, however, it is that the original statutes of magdalene college, unlike those of christ's and john's, exhibit no regard for the new learning, and are indeed mainly noteworthy for the large powers and discretion which they assign to the master, and the almost entire freedom of that official from any responsibility to the governing body of fellows. it was evidently the founder's design to place the college practically under the control of the successive owners of audley end. in 1564 the young duke of norfolk, who had married lord audley's daughter and sole heir, and who was, moreover, descended from the early benefactor of the college, the duke of buckingham, contributed liberally towards both the revenues of magdalene and its buildings. on the occasion of queen elizabeth's visit to cambridge, it is recorded that "the duke of norfolk accompanied her majesty out of the town, and, then returning, entered magdalene college, and gave much money to the same; promising £40 by year till they had builded the quadrant of the college."[84] from this statement it is plain that the quadrangle of magdalene was not complete so late as 1654. the chapel and old library which form the west side of this court, and also the frontage to the street, had been built in 1475. the roof of the present chapel, uncovered in 1847, shows that buckingham college had a chapel on the same site. the doorway in the north-west corner of the court retained a carving of the three keys, the arms of the prior and convent of ely, so late as 1777, and thus probably indicated the chambers which were added to monks' college for the accommodation of the ely convent scholars. the similar rooms assigned to the scholar-monks of walden and ramsey appear to have been in the range of buildings forming the south side of the college, parallel with the river, originally built in 1465, but reconstructed in 1585. the new gateway in the street-front belongs also to this late date. the chapel was thoroughly "italianised" in 1733, and again restored and enlarged in 1851. the extremely beautiful building now known as the pepysian library, beyond the old quadrangle to the east, which belongs to restoration times, although its exact date and the name of its architect are not known, is the chief glory of magdalene. it was probably approaching completion in 1703, when samuel pepys, the diarist, who had been a sizar of the college in 1650, and had lately contributed towards the cost of the building, bequeathed his library to the college, and directed that it should be housed in the new building. there, accordingly, it is now deposited, and the inscription, "bibliotheca pepysiana, 1724," with his arms and motto, "_mens cujusque is est quisque_," is carved in the pediment of the central window. the collection of books is a specially interesting one, invaluable to the historian or antiquary. most of the books are in the bindings of the time, and are still in the mahogany-glazed bookcases in which they were placed by pepys himself in 1666, and of which he speaks in his diary under date august 24 of that year:-[illustration: tower & gateway to trinity college. _to face p. 252_] "up and dispatched several businesses at home in the morning, and then comes simpson to set up my other new presses for my books; and so he and i fell to the furnishing of my new closett, and taking out the things out of my old; and i kept him with me all day, and he dined with me, and so all the afternoone, till it was quite darke hanging things--that is my maps and pictures and draughts--and setting up my books, and as much as we could do, to my most extraordinary satisfaction; so that i think it will be as noble a closett as any man hath, and light enough--though, indeed, it would be better to have had a little more light." of the many magdalene men of eminence, from the days of sir robert rede and archbishop cranmer down to those of charles parnell and charles kingsley, there is no need to speak in any other words than those of fuller: "every year this house produced some eminent scholars, as living cheaper and privater, freer from town temptations by their remote situation." * * * * * no cambridge foundation, probably no academic institution in europe, furnishes so striking an example as does trinity college of the change from the mediæval to the modern conception of education and of learning. if, indeed, we may take the words of the preamble to his charter of foundation, dated the thirty-eighth year of his reign (1546) as a statement of his own personal aims, king henry had conceived a very noble ideal of liberal education. after referring to his special reasons for thankfulness to almighty god for peace at home and successful wars abroad--peace had just been declared with france after the brief campaign conducted by henry himself, which had been signalised by the capture of boulogne--and above all for the introduction of the pure truth of christianity into his kingdom, he sets forth his intention of founding a college "to the glory and honour of almighty god, and the holy and undivided trinity, for the amplification and establishment of the christian and true religion, the extirpation of heresy and false opinion, the increase and continuance of divine learning and all kinds of good letters, the knowledge of the tongues, the education of the youth in piety, virtue, learning, and science, the relief of the poor and destitute, the prosperity of the church of christ, and the common good and happiness of his kingdom and subjects."[85] [illustration: gateway & dial, trinity college] the site upon which king henry viii. had decided to place his college is also mentioned in this preamble to the charter of foundation. it was to be "on the soil, ground, sites, and precincts of the late hall and college, commonly called the king's hall, and of a certain late college of s. michael, commonly called michaelhouse, and also of a certain house and hostel called fyswicke or fysecke hostel and of another house and hostel, commonly called hovinge inn." in addition to the hostels here named there were, however, several others which occupied, or had occupied, the site previous to 1548--for one or two previous to this time had been absorbed by their neighbours--whose names have been preserved, and whose position has been put beyond doubt by recent researches. these other hostels were s. catharine's, s. margaret's, crouched hostel, tyler or tyler's, s. gregory's, garet or saint gerard's hostel, and oving's inn. * * * * * we may indicate roughly, perhaps, the position of these various halls and hostels in relation to the present college buildings, if we imagine ourselves to have entered the great gate of trinity from the high street, from trinity street, and to be standing on the steps leading into the great court, and facing across towards the master's lodge. immediately in front of us, on what is now the vacant green sward between the gateway steps and the sun-dial, there stood in the fifteenth century king's hall, or that block of it which a century earlier had been built to take the place of the thatched and timbered house which edward iii. had bought from robert de croyland, and had made into his "king's hall of scholars." the entrance to this house, however, was not on the side which would have been immediately facing the point where we stand on the steps. it was entered by a doorway on its south side, opening into a lane--king's childers' lane it was called--which, starting from the high street, from a point slightly to the south of the great gate, crossed the great court directly east and west, and then bending slightly to the north, reached the river at dame nichol's hythe, at a point just beyond the bend in the river by the end of the present library. returning to our point of view we should find on our right, occupying the easternmost part of the existing chapel, the old chapel of king's hall, built in 1465, and beyond it, westwards, other buildings,--the buttery, the kitchen, the hall,--forming four sides of a little cloistered court, partly occupying the site of the present ante-chapel, and partly on its northern side facing across the cornhithe lane to the gardens of the old hospital of s. john. turning to our left to the southern half of the great court, to that part which in the old days was south of king's childers' lane, south, that is, of the present fountain, we should find the site intersected by a lane running directly north and south, from a point at the south-west corner of the king's hall about where the sun-dial now stands, to a point in trinity lane, or s. michael's lane as it was then called, where now stands the queen's gate. this was le foule lane, and was practically a continuation of that milne street of which we have spoken in an earlier chapter as running parallel with the river past the front of trinity hall, clare, and queens' to the king's mills. to the east of foule lane, occupying the site of the present range of buildings on the east and south-east of the great court, stood the hostel of s. catharine, with fyswicke hostel on its western side. michaelhouse occupied practically the whole of the south-western quarter of the great court, with its gardens stretching down to the river. s. catharine's, fyswicke hostel, and michaelhouse all had entrances into s. michael's or flaxhithe, now trinity lane. beyond and across flaxhithe lane was oving's inn, on the site of the present bishop's hostel, with garett hostel still further south, on land adjoining trinity hall. s. gregory's and the crouched hostel stood north of michaelhouse, side by side, on a space now occupied for the most part by the great dining-hall. the tyled or tyler's hostel was on the high street adjoining the north-east corner of s. catharine's. s. margaret's hall, which had adjoined the house of william fyswicke, had been at an early date absorbed in the fyswicke hostel. it is plain that these various halls and hostels would sufficiently supply all the early needs of king henry's new college. there was the chapel of king's hall, the halls of king's hall, michaelhouse and fyswicke's hostel, and the chambers in each of these and the smaller hostels. during the first three years or so, from 1546 to 1549, the existing buildings seem to have been occupied without alteration. in 1550 and 1551 parts of michaelhouse and fyswicke's hostel were pulled down, and their gates walled up. the foule lane, which separated them, was closed, and the new queen's gate built at the point where that lane had joined michael's lane. the south ranges of both fyswicke's hostel and michaelhouse on each side of this gate were retained. the hall, butteries, and kitchen of michael house on the west were also retained, and continued northwards to form a lodge for the master, and this range was returned easterwards at right angles to join the king edward's gateway at the south-west corner of king's hall. a little later the hall, butteries, and chapel of king's hall were removed to make way for the new chapel, which was begun in 1555 and completed about ten years later. an early map of cambridge, made by order of archbishop parker in 1574, and preserved in one of the early copies of caius' "history of the university" in the british museum, shows the college in the state which we have thus described, the outline of the great court, that is to say, practically defined as it is to-day, but broken at two points, one by the projection from its western side joining the master's lodge with the old gateway of king edward, still standing in its ancient position, more or less on the site of the present sun-dial; the other by a set of chambers, built in 1490, projecting from the eastern range of buildings, and ending at a point somewhat east of the site of the present fountain. the transformation of the great court into the shape in which we now know it is due entirely to the energy and skill of dr. thomas neville, at that time dean of peterborough, who was appointed master of trinity in 1573. "dr. thomas neville," says fuller, "the eighth master of this college, answering his anagram '_most heavenly_,' and practising his own allusive motto, '_ne vile velis_,' being by the rules of the philosopher himself to be accounted [greek: megaloprepês], as of great performances, for the general good, expended £3000 of his own in altering and enlarging the old and adding a new court thereunto, being at this day the stateliest and most uniform college in christendom, out of which may be carved three dutch universities."[86] [illustration: the fountain trinity college.] neville's first work was the completion of the ranges of chambers on the east and south sides of the great court, including the queen's gateway tower. on the completion of these in 1599 the projecting range of buildings on the east side were pulled down. in 1601 he pulled down the corresponding projection on the western side, removing the venerable pile known as king edward the third's gate. this was rebuilt at the west end of the chapel as we now see it. the master's lodge was prolonged northwards, and a library with chambers below it was built eastwards to meet the old gate. the great quadrangle was thus complete, the largest in either university,[87] having an area of over 90,000 square feet. to dr. neville also in the great court is owing the additional storey to the great gate, with the statue of henry viii. in a niche on its eastern front, and the statue of king james, his queen, and prince charles on its western side, the beautiful fountain erected in 1602, and the hall in 1604. the building of this hall, which with certain variations is copied from the hall of the middle temple, is thus described in the "memoriale" of the college. "when he had completed the great quadrangle and brought it to a tasteful and decorous aspect, for fear that the deformity of the hall, which through extreme old age had become almost ruinous, should cast, as it were, a shadow over its splendour, he advanced £3000 for seven years out of his own purse, in order that a great hall might be erected answerable to the beauty of the new buildings. lastly, as in the erection of these buildings he had been promoter rather than author, and had brought these results to pass more by labour and assiduity than by expenditure of his own money, he erected at a vast cost, the whole of which was defrayed by himself, a building in the second court adorned with beautiful columns, and elaborated with the most exquisite workmanship, so that he might connect his own name for ever with the extension of the college." unfortunately, much of the original beauty of neville's court was spoilt by the alterations of mr. essex in 1755, "a local architect whose life," as mr. j. g. clark has truly said, "was spent in destroying that which ought to have been preserved." the building of the library which forms the western side of neville's court was due mainly to the energy of dr. isaac barrow, who was master from 1673 to 1677. the architect was sir christopher wren, who himself thus describes his scheme:- "i haue given the appearance of arches as the order required, fair and lofty; but i haue layd the floor of the library upon the impostes, which answer to the pillars in the cloister and levells of the old floores, and haue filled the arches with relieus stone, of which i haue seen the effect abroad in good building, and i assure you where porches are low with flat ceelings is infinitely more gracefull than lowe arches would be, and is much more open and pleasant, nor need the mason feare the performance because the arch discharges the weight, and i shall direct him in a firme manner of executing the designe. by this contrivance the windowes of the library rise high and give place for the deskes against the walls.... the disposition of the shelves both along the walls and breaking out from the walls must needes proue very convenient and gracefull, and the best way for the students will be to haue a little square table in each celle with 2 chaires." [illustration: neville's court trinity college] the table and the chairs, as well as the book-shelves, were designed by wren, who was also at pains to give full-sized sections of all the mouldings, because "we are scrupulous in small matters, and you must pardon us. architects are as great pedants as criticks or heralds." in 1669 bishop's hostel--so called after bishop hacket of lichfield, who gave £1200 towards the cost--took the place of the two minor halls, oving's inn and garett hostel. no further addition to the college buildings was made until the nineteenth century, when the new court was built from the designs of wilkins in the mastership of dr. christopher wordsworth, and at a later time the two courts opposite the great gate across trinity street, by the benefaction of a sum approaching £100,000, by dr. whewell. to dr. whewell also belongs the merit of the restoration of the front of the master's lodge, by the removal of the classical façade which had been so foolishly and tastelessly imposed upon the old work built by dr. bentley during his memorable tenure of the mastership from 1700 to 1742. the mention of the name of that most masterful of yorkshiremen and most brilliant of cambridge scholars and critics inevitably suggests the picture of that long feud between the fellows of trinity and their master which lasted for nearly half a century, for a year at any rate longer than the peloponnesian war, and was almost as full of exciting incidents. those who care to read the miserable and yet amusing story can do so for themselves in the pages of bishop monk's "life of richard bentley." it is more to the purpose here, i think, to recall the kindly and judicious verdict of the great scholar's life at trinity by the greatest cambridge scholar of to-day. "it must never be forgotten," writes sir richard jebb, "that bentley's mastership of trinity is memorable for other things than its troubles. he was the first master who established a proper competition for the great prizes of that illustrious college. the scholarships and fellowships had previously been given by a purely oral examination. bentley introduced written papers; he also made the award of scholarships to be annual instead of biennial, and admitted students of the first year to compete for them. he made trinity college the earliest home for a newtonian school, by providing in it an observatory, under the direction of newton's disciple and friend--destined to an early death--roger cotes. he fitted up a chemical laboratory in trinity for vigani of verona, the professor of chemistry. he brought to trinity the eminent orientalist, sike of bremen, afterwards professor of hebrew. true to the spirit of the royal founder, bentley wished trinity college to be indeed a house 'of all kinds of good letters,' and at a time when england's academic ideals were far from high he did much to render it not only a great college, but also a miniature university."[88] and "a house of all kinds of good letters" trinity has remained, and will surely always remain. as we walk lingeringly through its halls and courts what thronging historic memories crowd upon us! we may not forget the failures as well as the successes; the defeats as well as the triumphs; "the lost causes and impossible loyalties" as well as the persistent faith and the grand achievement; but what an inspiration we feel must such a place be to the young souls who, year by year, enter its gates. how can the flame of ideal sympathy with the great personalities of their country's history fail to be kindled or kept alive in such a place? here by the great gate, on the first floor to the north, are the rooms where isaac newton lived. it was to these rooms that in 1666 he brought back the glass prism which he had bought in the stourbridge fair, and commenced the studies which eventually made it possible for pope to write the epitaph:-"nature and nature's laws lay hid in night, god said 'let newton be!' and all was light." it was in these rooms that he had entertained his friends, john locke, richard bentley, isaac barrow, edmund halley, gilbert burnett, who afterwards wrote of him, "the whitest soul i ever knew." it was here that he wrote his "principia." it is in the ante-chapel close by that there stands that beautiful statue of him by roubiliac, which chantrey called "the noblest of our english statues," and of which wordsworth has recorded how he used to lie awake at night to think of that "silent face" shining in the moonlight:-"the marble index of a mind for ever voyaging through strange seas of thought alone." and in the chapel beyond, with its double range of "windows richly dight" with the figures of saints and worthies and benefactors of the college--sir francis bacon, sir edward coke, sir harry spelman, lord craven, roger cotes, archbishop whitgift, bishop pearson, bishop barrow, bishop hacket, the poets donne, george herbert, andrew marvell, cowley and dryden--is it possible for the youthful worshipper not sometimes to be aroused and uplifted above the thoughts of sordid vulgarity, of moral isolation, of mean ambition, to "see visions and dream dreams," visions of coming greatness for city, or country, or empire, visions of great principles struggling in mean days of competitive scrambling, dreams of opportunity of some future service for the common good, which shall not be unworthy of his present heritage in these saints and heroes of the past, who may- "live again in minds made better by their presence; live in pulses stirred to generosity, in deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn for miserable aims that end with self, in thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, and with their mild persistence urge man's search to vaster issues." chapter xii ancient and protestant foundations "nec modo seminarium augustum et conclusum nimis, verum in se amplissimum campum collegium esse cupimus: ubi juvenes, apum more, de omnigenis flosculis pro libita libent, modo mel legant, quo et eorum procudantur linguæ et pectora, tanquam crura, thymo compleantur: ita ut tandem ex collegio quasi ex alveari evolantes, novas in quibus se exonerent ecclesiæ sedes appetant."--_statutes of sidney college._ queen elizabeth and the founder of emmanuel--the puritan age--sir walter mildmay--the building of emmanuel--the tenure of fellowships--puritan worthies--the founder of harvard--lady frances sidney--the sidney college charter--the buildings--the chapel the old franciscan refectory--royalists and puritans--oliver cromwell--thomas fuller--a child's prayer for his mother. "i hear, sir walter," said queen elizabeth to the founder of emmanuel college, "you have been erecting a puritan foundation." "no, madam," he replied, "far be it from me to countenance anything contrary to your established laws; but i have set an acorn, which, when it becomes an oak, god alone knows what will be the fruit therefrom." and sir walter mildmay expressed no doubt truthfully what was his own intention as a founder, for although it is customary to speak of both emmanuel and sidney colleges as puritan foundations, and although it admits of no question that the prevailing tone of emmanuel college was from the first intensely puritan in tone, yet it cannot certainly be said that either emmanuel college or the college established by the lady frances sidney two years later, were specially designed by their founders to strengthen the puritan movement in the university. they synchronised with it no doubt, and many of their earliest members gave ample proof of their sympathy with it. but as foundations they sprang rather from the impulse traceable on the one hand to the literary spirit of the renaissance, and on the other to the desire of promoting that union of rational religion with sound knowledge, which the friends of the new learning, the disciples of colet, erasmus, and more had at heart. the two colleges were born, in fact, at the meeting-point of two great epochs of history. the age of the renaissance was passing into the age of puritanism. rifts which were still little were widening every hour, and threatening ruin to the fabric of church and state which the tudors had built up. a new political world was rising into being; a world healthier, more really national, but less picturesque, less wrapt in the mystery and splendour that poets love. great as were the faults of puritanism, it may fairly claim to be the first political system which recognised the grandeur of the people as a whole. [illustration: hall & chapel, emmanuel college.] as great a change was passing over the spiritual sympathies of man; a sterner protestantism was invigorating and ennobling life by its morality, by its seriousness, and by its intense conviction of god. but it was at the same time hardening and narrowing it. the bible was superseding plutarch. the obstinate questionings which haunted the finer souls of the renaissance were being stereotyped in the theological formulas of the puritan. the sense of divine omnipotence was annihilating man. the daring which turned england into a people of adventurers, the sense of inexhaustible resources, the buoyant freshness of youth, the intoxicating sense of beauty and joy, which inspired sidney and marlowe and drake, was passing away before the consciousness of evil and the craving to order man's life aright before god. emmanuel and sidney colleges were the children of this transition period. sir walter mildmay, the founder of emmanuel, was chancellor of the exchequer in the reign of elizabeth, known and trusted by the queen from her girlhood--she exchanged regularly new year's gifts with him--a tried friend and discreet diplomatist, who had especially been distinguished in the negotiations in connection with the imprisonment of mary, queen of scots. he had been educated at christ's college, though apparently he had taken no degree. he was a man, however, of some learning, and retained throughout life a love for classical literature. sir john harrington, in his "orlando furioso," quotes a latin stanza, which he says he derived from the latin poems of sir walter mildmay. these poems, however, are not otherwise known. he is also spoken of as the writer of a book entitled "a note to know a good man." his interest in his old university and sympathy with letters is attested by the fact that he contributed a gift of stone to complete the tower of great s. mary's, and established a greek lectureship and six scholarships at christ's college. he had acquired considerable wealth in his service of the state, having also inherited a large fortune from his father, who had been one of henry viii.'s commissioners for receiving the surrender of the dissolved monasteries. it was fitting, perhaps, he felt, that some portion of this wealth should be devoted to the service of religion and sound learning. anyhow, in the month of january 1584, we find the queen granting to her old friend, "his heirs, executors, and assigns," a charter empowering them "to erect, found, and establish for all time to endure a certain college of sacred theology, the sciences, philosophy and good arts, of one master and thirty fellows and scholars, graduate or non-graduate, or more or fewer according to the ordinances and statutes of the same college." on the 23rd of the previous november, sir walter had purchased for £550 the land and buildings of the dominican or black friars, which had been established at cambridge in 1279 and dissolved in 1538. during the fifty years that had elapsed since the dissolution the property had passed through various hands. upon passing into the hands of sir walter it is thus described:- "all that the scite, circuit, ambulance and precinct of the late priory of fryers prechers, commonly called the black fryers within the towne of cambrigge ... and all mesuages, houses, buildinges, barnes, stables, dovehouses, orchards, gardens, pondes, stewes, waters, land and soyle within the said scite.... and all the walles of stone, brick or other thinge compassinge and enclosinge the said scite." the present buildings stand upon nearly the same sites as those occupied by the original buildings, which were adapted to the requirements of the new college by ralph symons, the architect, who had already been employed at trinity and s. john's. the hall, parlour, and butteries were constructed out of the church of the friars. it is recorded that "in repairing the combination room about the year 1762, traces of the high altar were very apparent near the present fireplace." the master's lodge was formed at the east end of the same range, either by the conversion of the east part of the church, or by the erection of a new building. a new chapel, running north and south--the non-orientation, it is said, being due to puritan feeling--was built to the north of the master's lodge. the other new buildings consisted of a kitchen on the north side of the hall and a long range of chambers enclosing the court on the south. towards the east there were no buildings, the court on that side being enclosed by a low wall. the entrance to the college was in emmanuel lane, through a small outer court, having the old chapel as its southern range and the kitchen as the northern. from this the principal court was reached by passages at either end of the hall. the range known as the brick building was added in 1632, extending southwards from the east end of the founder's chambers. in 1668 the present chapel was built facing east and west, in the centre of the southern side of the principal court. by this time, it is said, the old chapel had become ruinous. moreover, it had never been consecrated, and the puritanical observances alleged to have been practised in it were giving some offence to the restoration authorities. the following statement, drawn up in 1603,[89] is interesting, not only as giving a graphic picture of the disorders complained of at emmanuel, but also incidentally of the customs of other colleges:- "1. first for a prognostication of disorder, whereas all the chappells in y^{e} university are built with the chancell eastward, according to y^{e} uniform order of all christendome. the chancell in y^{e} colledge standeth north, and their kitchen eastward. "2. all other colledges in cambridge do strictly observe, according to y^{e} laws and ordinances of y^{e} church of englande, the form of publick prayer, prescribed in y^{e} communion booke. in emmanuel colledge they do follow a private course of publick prayer, after y^{r} own fashion, both sondaies, holydaies and workie daies. "3. in all other colledges, the m^{rs} and scholers of all sorts do wear surplisses and hoods, if they be graduates, upon y^{e} sondaies and holydaies in y^{e} time of divine service. but they of emmanuel colledge have not worn that attier, either at y^{e} ordinary divine service, or celebration of y^{e} lord's supper, since it was first erected. "4. all other colledges do wear, according to y^{e} order of y^{e} university, and many directions given from the late queen, gowns of a sett fashion, and square capps. but they of eman. colledge are therein altogether irregular, and hold themselves not to be tied to any such orders. "5. every other colledge according to the laws in that behalf provided, and to the custome of the king's householde, do refrayne their suppers upone frydaies and other fasting and ember daies. but they of eman. coll. have suppers every such nights throughout y^{e} year, publickly in the gr. hall, yea upon good fridaye itself. "6. all other colledges do use one manner of forme in celebratinge the holy communion, according to the order of the communion booke, as particularlye the communicants do receive kneelinge, with the particular application of these words, viz., _the body of our lord jesus christ, etc.; the blood of our lord jesus christ, etc._; as the s^{d} booke prescribeth. but in eman. coll. they receive that holy sacrament, sittinge upon forms about the communion table, and doe pulle the loafe one from the other, after the minister hath begon. and soe y^{e} cuppe one drinking as it were to another, like good fellows without any particular application of y^{e} s^{d} wordes, more than once for all. "7. in other colledges and churches, generally none are admitted to attend att the communion table, in the celebration of the holy mystery, but ministers and deacons. but in eman. coll. the wine is filled and the table is attended by the fellows' subsizers." there is one interesting feature in connection with the foundation of emmanuel college which calls for special notice, as showing that the puritan founder was fully conscious of the dangers attaching to a perpetual tenure of fellowships, as affording undue facilities for evading those practical duties of learning and teaching, the efficient discharge of which he rightly considered it should be the main object of the university to demand, and the interest of the nation to secure. "we have founded the college," says sir walter, "with the design that it should be, by the grace of god, a seminary of learned men for the supply of the church, and for the sending forth of as large a number as possible of those who shall instruct the people in the christian faith. _we would not have any fellow suppose that we have given him, in this college, a perpetual abode_, a warning which we deem the more necessary, in that we have ofttimes been present when many experienced and wise men have taken occasion to lament, and have supported their complaints by past and present utterances, that in other colleges a too protracted stay of fellows has been no slight bane to the common weal and to the interests of the church."[90] in the sequel, however, the wise forethought of sir walter mildmay was to a great extent frustrated. the clause of the college statutes which embodied his design was set aside in the re-action towards conservative university tradition, which followed upon the re-establishment of the stuart dynasty. a similar clause in the statutes of sidney college, which had been simply transcribed from the original emmanuel statutes, was about the same time rescinded, on the ground that it was a deviation from the customary practice of other societies, both at oxford and cambridge. it was not, in fact, until the close of the nineteenth century that university reformers were able to secure such a revision of the terms of fellowship tenure as should obviate, on the one hand, the dangers which the wisdom of the puritan founder foresaw, and, on the other, make adequate provision, under stringent and safe conditions, for the endowment of research. the old traditionary system is thus summarised by mr. mullinger:- "the assumption of priests' orders was indeed made, in most instances, an indispensable condition for a permanent tenure of a fellowship, but it too often only served as a pretext under which all obligation to studious research was ignored, while the fellowship itself again too often enabled the holder to evade with equal success the responsibilities of parish work. down to a comparatively recent date, it has accordingly been the accepted theory with respect to nearly all college fellowships that they are designed to assist clergymen to prepare for active pastoral work, and not to aid the cause of learned or scientific research. occasionally, it is true, the bestowal of a lay fellowship has fallen upon fruitful ground. the plumian professorship fostered the bright promise of a cotes: the lucasian sustained the splendid achievements of newton. but for the most part those labours to which cambridge can point with greatest pride and in whose fame she can rightly claim to share--the untiring scientific investigations which have established on a new and truer basis the classification of organic existence or the succession of extinct forms--or the long patience and profound calculations which have wrested from the abysmal depths of space the secrets of stupendous agencies and undreamed of laws--or the scholarship which has restored, with a skill and a success that have moved the envy of united germany, some of the most elaborate creations of the latin muse--have been the achievements of men who have yielded indeed to the traditional theory a formal assent but have treated it with a virtual disregard."[91] how essentially puritan was the prevailing tone of emmanuel during the early days we may surmise from the fact, that in the time of the commonwealth no less than eleven masters of other colleges in the university came from this foundation--seaman of peterhouse, dillingham of clare hall, whichcote of king's, horton of queens', spurston of s. catharine's, worthington of jesus, tuckney of john's, cudworth of christ's, sadler of magdalene, hill of trinity. among some of the earliest students to receive their education within its walls were many of the puritan leaders of america. cotton mather, in his "ecclesiastical history of new england," gives a conspicuous place in its pages to the names of emmanuel men--thomas hooker, john cotton, thomas shephard. "if new england," he says, "hath been in some respect immanuel's land, it is well; but this i am sure of, immanuel college contributed more than a little to make it so." few patriotic americans of the present day, visiting england, omit to make pilgrimage to emmanuel, for was not the founder of their university, harvard college, an emmanuel man, graduating from that college in 1631, and proceeding to his m.a. degree in 1635? john harvard, "the ever memorable benefactor of learning and religion in america," as edward everett justly styles him--"a godly gentleman and lover of learning," as he is called by his contemporaries, "a scholar, and pious in life, and enlarged towards the country and the good of it in life and death," seems indeed to have been a worthy son of both emmanuel and of cambridge, a puritan indeed, but of that fuller and manlier type which was characteristic of the elizabethan age rather than of the narrower, more contentious, more pedantic order which set in with and was hardened and intensified by the arbitrary provocations of the stuart regime. [illustration: downing college] the last in date of foundation of the cambridge colleges with which we have to deal--for downing college, unique as it is in many ways, and attractive (its precincts, "a park in the heart of a city"), is not yet a century old, and its history although in some respects of national importance, lies beyond our limit of time--was the "ancient and protestant foundation of sidney sussex college." the foundress of sydney sussex college was the lady frances sidney, one of the learned ladies of the court of elizabeth. she was the aunt both of sir philip sidney and of the earl of leicester; the wife of radcliffe, earl of sussex, known at least to all readers of "kenilworth" as the rival of leicester. to-day the noble families of pembroke, carnarvon, and sidney all claim her as a common ancestress. a few years ago, in conjunction with the authorities of the college, they restored her tomb, which occupies the place of the altar in the chapel of s. paul in westminster abbey. it was the dean of westminster, her friend dr. goodman, who gave to the college that portrait of the foundress which hangs above the high table in the college hall. it is a characteristic of the period which may be worth noting here--of the middle, that is, of the sixteenth century--when the destinies of europe were woven by the hands of three extraordinary queens, who ruled the fortunes of england, france, and scotland--that, as the fruits of the renaissance and of the outgrowth of the new learning, and perhaps also of the independent spirit of the coming puritanism, learned women should in some degree be leading the van of english civilisation. how long the lady frances had had the intention of founding a college, and what was the prompting motive, we do not know. in her will, however, which is dated december 6, 1588, the intention is clearly stated. after giving instructions as to her burial and making certain bequests, she proceeds to state "that since the decease of her late lord"--he had died five years previously--"she had yearly gathered out of her revenues so much as she conveniently could, purposing to erect some goodly and godly monument for the maintenance of good learning." in performance of the same, her charitable pretence, she directs her executors to employ the sum of £5000 (made up from her ready-money yearly reserved, a certain portion of plate, and other things which she had purposely left) together with all her unbequeathed goods, for the erection of a new college in the university of cambridge, to be called the "lady frances sidney sussex college, and for the purchasing some competent lands for the maintaining of a master, ten fellows, and twenty scholars, if the said £5000 and unbequeathed goods would thereunto extend." on her death in the following year her executors, the earl of kent and sir john harrington, at once attempted to carry out her wishes. of them and their endeavour, fuller, himself a sidney man, has thus, as always, quaintly written:- "these two noble executors in the pursuance of the will of this testatrix, according to her desire and direction therein, presented queen elizabeth with a jewel, being like a star, of rubies and diamonds, with a ruby in the midst thereof, worth an hundred and forty pounds, having on the back side a hand delivering up a heart into a crown. at the delivery hereof they humbly requested of her highness a mortmain to found a college, which she graciously granted unto them"--though the royal license did not actually come until five years later. "we usually observe infants born in the seventh month, though poor and pitiful creatures, are vital; and with great care and good attendance, in time prove proper persons. to such a _partus septimestris_ may sidney college well be resembled, so low, lean, and little at the birth thereof. alas! what is five thousand pounds to buy the site, build and endow a college therewith?... yet such was the worthy care of her honourable executors, that this benjamin college--the least and last in time, and born _after_ (as he _at_) the death of his mother--thrived in a short time to a competent strength and stature."[92] some delay ensued, for it was not until 1593 that, at the motion of the executors, an act of parliament was passed enabling trinity college to sell or let at fee farm rent the site of the grey friars. the college charter is dated february 14, 1596. the building was commenced in the following may, and completed, with the exception of the chapel, in 1598. in the same year the original statutes were framed by the executors. they are largely copied from those of emmanuel, and are equally verbose, cumbrous, and ill-arranged. one clause in them which speaks of the master as one who "_papismum, hæreses, superstitiones, et errores omnes ex animo abhorret et detestatur_," testifies to the intentionally protestant character of the college, a fact, however, which did not prevent james ii., on a vacancy in the mastership, intruding on the society a papist master, joshua basset, of caius, of whom the fellows complained that he was "let loose upon them to do what he liked." they had, however, their revenge, for, although later he was spoken of as "such a mongrel papist, who had so many nostrums in his religion that no part of the roman church could own him," in 1688 he was deposed. the architect of the college buildings was ralph simons, who had built emmanuel and "thoroughly reformed a great part of trinity college." it is interesting to note that more than half of the sum received from lady sidney's estate to found and endow the college was expended in the erection of the hall, the master's lodge, and the hall court. these buildings formed the whole of the college when it was opened in 1598. how picturesque it must have been in those days, before the red brick of which it is built was covered with plaster, one can see by loggan's print of the college, made about 1688. the buildings are simple enough, but quite well designed. the "rose-red" of the brick, at least, seems to have struck the poet, giles fletcher, when he wrote of sidney in 1633 in his latin poem on the cambridge colleges:-"haec inter media aspicies mox surgere tecta culminibus niveis roseisque nitentia muris; nobilis haec doctis sacrabit femina musis, conjugio felix, magno felicior ortu, insita sussexo proles sidneia trunco." [illustration: the garden front sidney sussex college] the arrangement of the hall, kitchen, buttery, and master's lodge was much the same as at present. the hall had an open timber roof, with a fine oriel window at the dais end, but no music gallery. fuller says that the college "continued without a chapel some years after the first founding thereof, until at last some good men's charity supplied this defect." in 1602, however, the old hall of the friars--fuller calls it the dormitory, but there is little doubt that it was in reality the refectory--was fitted up as a chapel, and a second storey added to form a library. a few years later, about 1628, a range of buildings forming the south side of the chapel court was built. in 1747, the buildings having become ruinous, extensive repairs were carried out, and the hall was fitted up in the italian manner. the picturesque gateway which had stood in the centre of the street wall of the hall court was removed, and a new one of more severe character was built in its place. this also at a later time was removed and re-erected as a garden entrance from jesus lane. between 1777 and 1780 the old chapel was destroyed, and replaced by a new building designed by essex, in a style in which, to say the least, there is certainly nothing to remind the modern student of the old hall of the grey friars' monastery, where for three centuries of stirring national life the franciscan monks had kept alive, let us hope, something of the mystic tenderness, the brotherly compassion, the fervour of missionary zeal, which they had learnt from their great founder, saint francis of assisi. of the old fellows' garden, which in 1890 was partly sacrificed to provide a site for the new range of buildings and cloister--perhaps the most beautiful of modern collegiate buildings at either university--designed by pearson, dyer writes with enthusiasm:- "here is a good garden, an admirable bowling green, a beautiful summer house, at the back of which is a walk agreeably winding, with variety of trees and shrubs intertwining, and forming the whole length, a fine canopy overhead; with nothing but singing and fragrance and seclusion; a delightful summer retreat; the sweetest lovers' or poets' walk, perhaps in the university." to the extremely eclectic character of the college in its early days the master's admission register testifies. among its members were some of the stoutest royalists and also some of the stoutest republicans in the country. among the former we find such names as those of edward montagu (afterwards first baron montagu of boughton), brother of the first master, a great benefactor of the college; of sir roger lestrange, of hunstanton hall, in norfolk, celebrated as the editor of the first english newspaper, "a man of good wit, and a fancy very luxuriant and of an enterprising nature," in early youth--his attempt to recover the port of lynn for the king in 1644 is one of the funniest episodes in english history--a very don quixote of the royalist party; and of seth ward, a fellow of the college, who was ejected in commonwealth times, but had not to live long, before he was able to write back to his old college that he had been elected to the see of exeter, and that "the old bishops were exceeding disgruntled at it, to see a brisk young bishop, but forty years old, not come in at the right door, but leap over the pale." among the republican members of the college it is enough, perhaps, to name the name of oliver cromwell. and of him, at least, whatever our final verdict on his career may be, whatever dreams of personal ambition we may think mingled with his aim, we cannot surely deny, if at least we have ever read his letters, that his aim was, in the main, a high and unselfish one, and that in the career, which to our modern minds may seem so strange and complex, he had seen the leading of a divine hand that drew him from the sheepfolds to mould england into a people of god. and to some, surely, he seems the most human-hearted sovereign and most imperial man in all english annals since the days of alfred. and no one, i trust, would in these days endorse the verdict of the words interpolated in the college books between the entry of his name and the next on the list:- "_hic fuit grandis ille impostor, carnifex perditissimus, qui, pientissimo rege carolo primo nefaria cæde sublato, ipsum usurpavit thronum, et tria regna per quinque ferme annorum spatium sub protectoris nomine indomita tyrannide vexavit_," which may be englished thus- "this was that arch hypocrite, that most abandoned murderer, who having by shameful slaughter put out of the way the most pious king, charles the first, grasped the very throne, and for the space of nearly five years under the title of protector harassed three kingdoms with inflexible tyranny." rather, as we stand in the college hall and gaze up at the stern features, as depicted by cooper,[93] in that best of all the cromwell portraits, shall we not commemorate this greatest of sidney men, in lowell's words, as-"one of the few who have a right to rank with the true makers: for his spirit wrought order from chaos; proved that right divine dwelt only in the excellence of truth: and far within old darkness' hostile lines advanced and pitched the shining tents of light. nor shall the grateful muse forget to tell that--not the least among his many claims to deathless honour--he was milton's friend." thomas fuller, too, who was neither republican nor royalist, but loyal to the good men of both parties in the state, is a name of which sidney college may well be proud. no one can read any of his books, full as they are of imagination, pathos, and an exuberant, often extravagant, but never ineffective wit, without heartily endorsing coleridge's saying: "god bless thee, dear old man!" and recognising the truth of his panegyric, "next to shakespeare, i am not certain whether thomas fuller, beyond all other writers, does not excite in me the sense and emulation of the marvellous.... he was incomparably the most sensible, the least prejudiced great man in an age that boasted of a galaxy of great men." and with fuller's name, indeed with fuller's own words, in that benediction which, after eight years of residence, he gave to sidney college, and which he himself calls his "child's prayer to his mother," i may appropriately end this chapter. "now though it be only the place of the parent, and proper to him (as the greater) to bless his child, yet it is of the duty of the child to pray for his parent, in which relation my best desires are due to this foundation, my mother (for the last eight years) in this university. may her lamp never lack light for oil, or oil for the light thereof. zoar, is it not a little one? yet who shall despise the day of small things? may the foot of sacrilege, if once offering to enter the gates thereof, stumble and rise no more. the lord bless the labours of all the students therein, that they may tend and end at his glory, their own salvation, the profit and honour of the church and commonwealth." and not less appropriately, perhaps, may i end, not only this chapter, but this whole sketch of the story of cambridge and its colleges--for to the memory of what more kindly, more sound-hearted, more pious soul could any sidney man more fitly dedicate his book than to his--with the prayer in which, in closing his own history, he gracefully connects the name of cambridge with that of the sister university, and commends them both to the charitable devotion of all good men. "o god! who in the creating of the lower world didst first make light (confusedly diffused, as yet, through the imperfect universe) and afterwards didst collect the same into two great lights, to illuminate all creatures therein; o lord, who art a god of knowledge and dost lighten every man that cometh into the world; o lord, who in our nation hast moved the hearts of founders and benefactors to erect and endow two famous luminaries of learning and religion, bless them with the assistance of thy holy spirit. let neither of them contest (as once thy disciples on earth) which should be the greatest, but both contend which shall approve themselves the best in thy presence.... and as thou didst appoint those two great lights in the firmament to last till thy servants shall have no need of the sun, nor of the moon to shine therein, for thy glory doth lighten them; so grant these old lights may continue until all acquired and infused knowledge be swallowed up with the vision and the fruition of thy blessed-making majesty.--amen." index _akeman street_, old roman road known as, 15 alan de walsingham, cathedral builder, 174 alcock, thomas, bishop of ely, founder of jesus college, 185, 186; his plan of incorporating grammar-school with college, 187, 189 alcwyne, departure of, from england, 52 audley, sir thomas, conversion of buckingham college into magdalene by, 249; fuller's account of, 249, 250; grant of suppressed monasteries made to, 251 augustinian friars, settlement of, on site of old botanic gardens, 72 barnard flower, king's glazier, 151 barnwell, origin of name, 37; augustinian priory of, 35, 36; foundation and further history of, 36, 37; rebuilding of, 38; present remains of, 38 _barnwell cartulary_, 18, 40 barnwell fair, 17, 18 barrow, dr. isaac, master of trinity, his work in connection with, 260 bateman, william, bishop of norwich, founder of trinity hall, 174 bede, monastic school of, 51, 52; book on "the nature of things" by, 52 benedictine order, re-establishment of, under st. dunstan, 53; discipline of, 75 bentley, dr. richard, master of trinity, feud between fellows and, 261-2; work of, in connection with college, 262 _bibliotheca pepysiana_, 252 black death, the, 103, 111, 134 black friars, arrival of, in england, 55; land and buildings belonging to, purchased for site of emmanuel college, 268 books, complaint by roger bacon of lack of, 57 _brazen george inn_, the scholars of christ's lodged in, 220 british earthworks, 14 buckingham college, description of, by fuller, 248; foundation of, by benedictine, 248; hall built in connection with, 248; lectures by cranmer at, 249; semi-secular character of, 249; conversion of, into magdalene college, 249 burne-jones, designs by, for jesus chapel, 203 caius, john, founder of college, 114; design for famous three gates by, 114-19; death of, 119 _camboritum_, 16, 17 cambridge, verses on, by lydgate, 2; legendary history of, 3-8; position of, 14; origin of name of, 15, 16; geographical position of, 17; early population of, 24; farm of, given as dower to the queen, 24; beginnings of municipal independence of, 27; "the borough," overflow of, incorporated with township of s. benet, 28, 32; first charter of, 48 cambridge guilds, 120, 121, 122-26 cambridge university, migration of masters and scholars from paris to, 59, 60; royal writs concerning, 60; description of, in middle ages, 61, 62, 63; course of study pursued at, 63, ff.; learning at, in thirteenth century, 68-70; library, erected by sir gilbert scott, 144 _candle rent_, insurrection of towns-people on account of, 132, 133 cantelupe, nicholas, legendary history by, 4-7 carmelites, settlement of, on present site of queens', 72 castle, old site of, 15; foundation of, by william the conqueror, 22; use of, as prison, as a quarry, 23; gate-house of, demolished, 23 castle hill, ancient earthwork known as, 14, 15 chaucer, tradition concerning, 106 churches- _abbey_, the, 39 _all saints by the castle_, 34 _holy sepulchre_, one of the four round churches of england, 40, 43, 44 _s. benedict_, 28, 29, 31, 125, 130-31 _s. edward_, 176; independence of, with regard to pulpit teaching, 177, 178 _s. giles_, 34, 35 _s. john zachary_, 176 _s. mary at market_, afterwards _great s. mary_, 123 _s. peter_, without the trumpington gate, afterwards called _little s. mary_, 86, 87 _s. peter by the castle_, 34 close, nicholas, architect of king's chapel, 147, 148 coleridge, s. t., scholar of jesus, 208; poems written by, at college, 208 college, meaning of the term in olden times, 62 colleges- _caius._ see _gonville hall_ _christ's_, foundation of, 210, 215; _god's house_, taken as basis of, 215; royal charter of, 216; description of buildings of, 217, 218; hall of, rebuilt by sir gilbert scott, 219; windows of, 219, 220; scholars of, lodged in the _brazen george_, 220; _rat's hall_, erection of, 220; further buildings of, erected by inigo jones, 220; "re-beautifying the chappell" of, 220, 221; john milton and charles darwin members of, 221, 223; other distinguished members of, 223, 224 _clare._ see _university hall_ _corpus christi_, foundation of, 121, 127; building of, 126, 127; royal benefactors of, 128; distinguished men belonging to, 128, 129; library given by matthew parker to, 128; description of old buildings of, 129; new library of, 130; attack on, by townspeople, 132, 133 _emmanuel_, foundation of, 265; design of sir w. mildmay in founding, 265; charter of, granted by queen elizabeth, 268; land and buildings of the black friars purchased for site of, 268; buildings of, erected, 269; offence given by the puritanical observances of, 269; statement drawn up concerning the same, 270-71; tenure of fellowships at, 271-272; revision of terms concerning, 272; masters of other colleges elected from, 273; john harvard, a graduate of, 274 _gonville hall_, first foundation of, 110; removal of, 111; statutes of, 111, 112; old buildings of, 112; bequest by john household to, 112; strong support of reformed opinions at, 113; second foundation by john caius, 114; architectural additions made by, 114; famous three gates designed by, 114-19 _jesus_, foundation of, 180; number of society of at first, 187; grammar-school incorporated with, 187, 189; nunnery of s. rhadegund converted into buildings of, 189, 190, 199, 200; "the chimney" at, 200; the chapel of, 201-203; constitution of, 203, 204; failure of plan for incorporating school with, 204; cranmer and other famous men at, 204, 207, 208; king james's saying regarding, 209 _king's_, foundation of by henry vi., 142; confiscation of alien priories for endowment of, 143; provision concerning the transference of eton scholars to, 144; first site of, 144; description of old buildings of, 144; incorporation of, in new buildings of university library, 114; old gateway of, 145; ampler site obtained for, 146, 147; chapel of, 147-50; work in connection with stopped, 150; renewed, 151; windows of, 151, 152; screen and rood-loft, 153; further buildings of, 153, 154; pope's bull granting independence of, 154; distinguished men belonging to, 157, 158; king james's saying regarding, 209 _king's hall_, first establishment of, 97, 98; absorption of by trinity, 97, 257; picture of collegiate life given in statutes of, 98, 99 _magdalene_, buckingham college converted into, 248; dissimilarity of original statutes of, with those of christ's and s. john's, 251; duke of norfolk contributes to revenues of, 251; date of quadrangle of, 251; of chapel and library of, 251; chambers added to monk's college for accommodation of scholars of, 252; new gateway of, 252; chapel of, "italianised" and restored, 252; pepysian library of, 252; reference to same in pepys' "diary," 252; famous magdalene men, 253 _michaelhouse_, foundation of and early statutes, 97; absorption of, by trinity, 97, 257 _pembroke_, foundation of, 93; countess of pembroke, foundress of, 106, 107; charter of, 107; constitution of, 108; building of, 108, 109; remains of old buildings of, 110 _peterhouse_, foundation of, 77; first code of statutes of, 79-81; hall of, 82-84; fellows' parlour at, 85; perne library at, 89, 90; building of present chapel of, 81; description of same, 92 _queens'_, foundation of by margaret of anjou, 158-61; earliest extant statutes of, 161; change of name of from queen's to queens', 161; similarity of building of with that of haddon hall, 162; description of principal court of, 162, 165; tower of erasmus at, 165, 166; residence of erasmus at, 165-71 _s. catherine's hall_, foundation of, 181; statutes of, 181; old buildings of, 181, 182; rebuilding of, 182; new chapel of, built on site of hobson's stables, 182 _s. john's_, royal license to refound the monastic hospital of, 226; bequest of lady margaret lost to, through opposition of court party, 230; other revenues obtained for, by bishop fisher, 231; first master of, 231; early and present buildings of, 231, 232; "bridge of sighs" at, 232; great gateway of, 235; old and new library of, 235, 236, 237; the masters' gallery at, 236; lines on by wordsworth, 237, 238; new chapel of, erected by sir gilbert scott, 238, 241; famous men at, 241, 242 _sidney_, foundation of, 265; desire of lady frances sidney in the founding of, 266; fuller's account of petition to queen elizabeth concerning, 275-76; granting of charter to, 276-77; original statutes of, 277; papist master of, deposed, 278; buildings of, 278-79; poem by giles fletcher on, 278; old chapel of, destroyed, 279; old fellows' garden at, 279; royalist and republican members of, 280; oliver cromwell and thomas fuller members of, 281; fuller's "child's prayer to his mother," and prayer at close of his history, 283 _trinity hall_, origin of, 174; buildings of, 175, 176; hall of, 176; chapel of, 176; beating the bounds by fellows of, 178; old library of, 179; garden and "jowett's plot" at, 180; king james's saying concerning, 209; example of change from mediæval to modern conception of learning furnished by, 253; king henry's charter of foundation, 253; site of, 254 _trinity college_, relation of old halls and hostels with present buildings of, 254-55; dr. thomas neville's work in connection with, 258; building of new library at, 260; later additions to, 261; two minor halls at, replaced by bishop's hostel, 261; feud between master and fellows of, 261; dr. bentley's work in connection with, 262; isaac newton at, 263; other famous men connected with, 263 _university hall_, first foundation of, 93, 99; refoundation of, as clare house, 99; statutes of, 100, 103, 104; dispute of with king's college, 104, 105; supposed identity of with chaucer's "soler-halle," 105, 106; great men associated with, 106 cornelius, austin, wood-carver, 153 cosin, dr., master of peterhouse, building of college chapel by, 91 cranmer, entry of, into jesus college, 204; fellowship at resigned by, 249; lectures given by, at magdalene, 249 crauden, john of, prior of ely, hostel of, 174, 175; portrait bust of, 174 cromwell, oliver, member of sidney college, 281-82; portrait of, by cooper, 282; lowell's verses on, 282 danes, ravages of, 52, 53 darwin, charles, member of christ's college, 221, 222, 225 _de heretico comburendo_, 136 devil's dyke, british earthwork known as, 14 dokell, andrew, founder of s. bernard's hostel, 160 dominicans, introduction of the new philosophy by, 58, 59; settlement of, on site of emmanuel, 72 drayton, michael, picture of fenland by, 11-12 elizabeth, queen, visit of, to cambridge, 251 elizabeth de burgh, countess of clare, university hall refounded by, 99 elizabeth wydville, queen to edward iv., second foundress of queen's college, 161 ely, lady chapel, comparison of with king's, 149, 150 ely, student monks of, hostel for, provided by john crauden, 174; transference of, to monk's college, 175 erasmus, residence of, at queens', 165-68; "paraclesis" of _novum testamentum_ written while there, 171; appointment of, to lady margaret chair, 211; his praise of oxford teachers, 212; summoned to cambridge to teach greek, 214 eton college, 141; connection of, with king's, 144 fenland, changes in physical features of, 9-11; description of, in _liber eliensis_ and other works, 11-13 fisher, john, bishop of rochester, founder of christ's and s. john's, 185, 242; notice of lady margaret attracted by, 211; divinity professorship founded by, 212; literary revival at cambridge promoted by, 214, 242; speech by, in parliament, 250; funeral sermon on lady margaret by, 228, 229; sympathy of, with new spirit of bible criticism, 242; friendship of, with erasmus, 242; attachment of, to papal cause, 242; character of, evidenced by his codes of statutes, 243; opposition of, to divorce of henry viii. and catherine of arragon, 243; description of trial and death of, by froude and mullinger, 244, 245 fletcher, giles, poem by, on sidney college, 278 franciscans, first habitation of, 55, 56; erection of house by, on site of sidney college, 72 friars, proselytising of students by, 72, 73 friars of the order of bethlehem, 72; of the sack, 72, 78 frost, henry, burgess, founder of hospital of s. john, 226 fuller, thomas, quotation from, concerning the universities, 8; account of origin of fair by, 17, 18; account of petition to queen elizabeth concerning sidney college, 276-77; "child's prayer to his mother," and prayer, at close of his history, by, 283 gilbertines, settlement of, in trumpington street, 72 _god's house_, small foundation of latter as basis of christ's, 215, 216, 217, 226 grantebrigge, norman village of, 32 _great bridge and small bridge_, 33 grey friars, arrival of, in england, 55 guilds. _see_ under cambridge guild of corpus christi, 120, 125, 126; incorporation of, with guild of s. mary, 121, 126; the "good duke," alderman of, 127; queen philippa and family enrolled as members of, 127; of thegns, 122, 123; of s. mary, 120, 121, 123, 125; of the holy sepulchre, first religious guild, 123 harvard, john, graduate of emmanuel, 274 havens, theodore, of cleves, architect, 116 henry vi., birth of, 137; description of, by stubbs, 138; his love of letters, 142; and holiness, 143 henry vii., visit of, to cambridge, 151 henry of costessey, _commentary on the psalms_ by, 58 hervey de stanton, bishop of bath and wells, founder of michaelhouse, 97 high street, old, 34 hobson, thomas, chapel built on site of stables belonging to, 182 hostels, establishment of, 63; various, absorbed by trinity, 254-55 _house of benjamin_, 47, 48 household, john, bequest by d. gonville, 113 hugh de balsham, bishop of ely, founder of peterhouse, 75, 76, 78, 79 ingulph, story quoted from, 7 jews, early establishment of, in cambridge, 44; influence of, on academic history and material condition of town, 46, 47 josselin, fellow of queen's, account of the building of corpus christi college by, 126, 127 king's ditch, the, old artificial stream known as, 32, 33 _king's scholars_, 97; regulations concerning, 98, 99 kingsley, charles, description of fenland by, 12, 13 lancaster, henry, duke of, alderman of corpus christi guild, 127, 128 lanes, old, still surviving, 33 langton, john, architect of king's chapel, 147 latimer, hugh, sermon preached by, at s. edward, 177 learning, decline of, in fourteenth century, 95, 96 lollardism in the university towns, 135, 136 lydgate, john, verses on cambridge by, 2, 3 margaret, countess of richmond and derby, foundress of christ's college and s. john's, description of, by fuller, 210; funeral sermon on, by bishop fisher, 210, 228, 229, 230; influence of bishop fisher upon, 212, 215; noble benefactions of, 216, 217; rooms at christ church of, 218, 219; characteristic story of, 218; death of, 228; monument to, 228 margaret of anjou, description of, by shakespeare, 158; foundress of queen's college, 158, 159, 160 matthew paris, description of fenland by, 11 mediæval students, dress of, 81-83 merton, walter de, exclusion of religious orders from his foundation by, 73; his _regula mertonensis_, 74, 75, 79 mildmay, sir walter, founder of emmanuel, 265; answer of, to queen elizabeth concerning same, 265 milne street, old, 34 milton, john, member of christ's, 221; description of rooms at, 221; mulberry tree planted by, 221; poems written by, as an undergraduate, 222; treatment of at college, 223 monasteries, depression caused by suppression of, 246; advantages to universities arising from, 247, 248; king henry's words with regard to, 247, 248 monastic houses, early settlements of, 72 _monk's college_, monks of ely transferred to, 175 monk's hall, 175 more, henry, member of christ's, 224; as one of the cambridge platonists, 224, 225 neville, dr. thomas, master of trinity, his work of building in connection with, 258-59 new learning, the, 56, 57, 58, 183-85; encouragement of, at cambridge, 211; renown of oxford in connection with, 212; promoted at cambridge by bishop fisher, 214; colleges of, 241; no regard shown to, in statutes of magdalene, 251 newton, sir isaac, at trinity, 263; his _principia_ written there, 263; statue of, by roubiliac, 263 parker, matthew, archbishop, library of mss. belonging to, 128, 130, 131 parker, richard, translation of _skeletos cantabrigiensis_ by, 4 pearson, mr., old gateway of king's restored by, 145 perne, dr. andrew, portrait of, 85; bequest of library to peterhouse by, 89; account of, 89, 90; latin verb invented in honour of, 89 philippa, queen, member of corpus christi guild, 127, 128 "poore priestes," the, of wycliffe, 135, 136 preaching, art of, neglected, 212, 213; lady margaret's readership founded as a remedy for, 213, 214 puritanism in england, 265-66 reginald of ely, architect of king's chapel, 148 _regula mertonensis_ taken as model for rule of peterhouse, 75, 79 richard de baden, chancellor of the university, 99 richard iii., gift of land by, to king's college, 151 richard of bury, bishop of durham, application from petrarch to, 95; description of oxford by, 96 rotherham, thomas, archbishop of york, college founded by, 187; purposes and provisions of same, 187, 188 s. augustine, list of books brought to england by, 50 s. bernard hostel, 160; absorption of, in foundation of queen's, 161 s. john, hospital of, 76, 226; nucleus of s. john's college, 78; history and downfall of, 226, 228 s. rhadegund, history of nuns of, 189-99; conversion of nunnery of, into college buildings, 199, 200 scholars, secular endowment of, 76; dispute of, with regulars, 77; removal of, 77 scholars of ely, 78 _school of pythagoras_, old norman house known as, 27 schools, monastic, of northumbria and the south, 50, 51 scott, sir gilbert, university library erected by, 144; hall of christ's rebuilt by, 219; chapel of s. john's erected by, 238, 241 sidney, lady frances, foundress of sidney college, 266, 275-76; portrait of, 275 simon, montagu, bishop of ely, first code of statutes for peterhouse by, 78 spencer, henry, bishop of norwich, revolt of towns-people quelled by, 133 _star chamber_, origin of name of, 46 sterne, laurence, portrait of, at jesus, 207 stourbridge fair, earliest charter of, 18; comparison of, with bunyan's "vanity fair," 19, 20 symons, ralph, architect of emmanuel college, 269, 278 _testament of the twelve patriarchs_, the greek ms. of, 56 tower of erasmus, 165 town and gown, ill feeling between, 132; riot arising from, 132, 133 tusser, thomas, residence of, at trinity hall, and verses by, 173 university, use of the term of, 60, 61 venn, henry, influence of, at jesus, 208 _via devana_, or _roman way_, 15, 28, 32, 34 walden, abbey of, grant of, to sir t. audley, 252; association of, with buckingham college, 252 wharfs or river hithes, rights in regard to, 33 wordsworth, william, lines by, on s. john's, 237, 238 wren, dr. matthew, master of peterhouse, 90; chapel of, built by, 91 wren, sir christopher, architect of library at trinity hall, 260; tables, chairs, and shelves designed by, 261 the end printed by ballantyne, hanson & co. edinburgh & london footnotes: [1] _cf._ baker ms. in the university library. [2] see the very excellent map given in "fenland past and present," by s. h. miller and sidney skertchley (published, longmans, 1878), a book full of information on the natural features of the fen country, its geology, its antiquarian relics, its flora and fauna. [3] _cf._ paper by professor ridgway, _proc. cam. antiq. soc._, vii. 200. [4] _cf._ professor m'kenny hughes, _proc. cam. antiq. soc._, vol. viii. (1893), 173. _cf._ also freeman, "norman conquest," vol. i. 323, &c.; and also english chronicle, under year mx. [5] the easiest way for those who are not much acquainted with phonetic laws to understand this rather difficult point is to observe the chronology of this place-name. it is thus condensed by mr. t. d. atkinson ("cambridge described and illustrated," p. 4) from professor skeat's "place-names of cambridgeshire," 29-30:--"the name of the town was _grantebrycge_ in a.d. 875, and in doomsday book it is _grentebrige_. about 1142 we first meet with the violent change _cantebrieggescir_ (for the county), the change from _gr_ to _c_ being due to the normans. this form lasted, with slight changes, down to the fifteenth century. _grauntbrigge_ (also spelt _cauntbrigge_ in the name of the same person) survived as a surname till 1401. after 1142 the form _cantebrigge_ is common; it occurs in chaucer as a word of four syllables, and was latinised as _cantabrigia_ in the thirteenth century. then the former _e_ dropped out; and we come to such forms as _cantbrigge_ and _cauntbrigge_ (fourteenth century); then _c[=a]nbrigge_ (1436) and _cawnbrege_ (1461) with _n_. then the _b_ turned the _n_ into _m_, giving _cambrigge_ (after 1400) and _caumbrege_ (1458). the long _a_, formerly _aa_ in _baa_, but now _ei_ in _vein_, was never shortened. the old name of the river, _granta_, still survives. _cant_ occurs in 1372, and _le ee_ and _le ree_ in the fifteenth century. in the sixteenth century the river is spoken of as the _canta_, now called the _rhee_; and later we find both _granta_ and the latinised form of _camus_. _cam_, which appears in speed's map of 1610, was suggested by the written form _cam-bridge_, and is a product of the sixteenth century, having no connection with the welsh _cam_, or the british _cambos_, "crooked." [6] "the old spelling is bernewell, in the time of henry iii. and later. somewhat earlier is beornewelle, in a late copy of a charter dated 1060 (thorpe, _diplom._, p. 383). so also in the ramsey cartulary. the prefix has nothing to do with the anglo-saxon _bearn_, 'a child,' as has often, i believe, been suggested; but represents _beornan_, gen. of _beorna_, a pet name for a name beginning with beorn-.... the difference between the words, which are quite distinct, is admirably illustrated in the new eng. dict. under the words _berne_ and _bairn_."--skeat's _place-names of cambridgeshire_, p. 35. [7] "the borough boys" is a nickname still remembered as being applied to the men of the castle end by the dwellers in the east side of the river. a public-house, with the sign of "the borough boy," still stands in northampton street. [8] "cambridge, described and illustrated," by t. d. atkinson, p. 133. [9] _cf._ "customs of augustinian canons," by j. willis clark, p. xi. [10] _lib. mem._, book i. chap. 9.--the principal authority for the history of barnwell priory is a manuscript volume in the british museum (mss. harl. 3601) usually referred to as the "barnwell cartulary" or the "barnwell register." the author's own title, however, "liber memorandorum ecclesiæ de bernewelle," is far more appropriate, for the contents are by no means confined to documents relating to the property of the house, but consist of many chapters of miscellanea dealing with the history of the foundation from its commencement down to the forty-fourth year of edward iii. (1370-71). [11] at the time of the dissolution, dugdale states the gross yearly value of the estates to have been £351, 15s. 4d., that of ely to have been £1084, 6s. 9d. [12] such a small matter, for example, in the domestic economy of a modern college as the separate rendering of a "buttery bill" and a "kitchen bill," containing items of expenditure which the puzzled undergraduate might naturally have expected to find rendered in the same weekly account, finds its explanation when we learn that in the economy of the monastery also the roll of "the celererarius" and the roll of the "camerarius" were always kept rigidly distinct. so also more serious and important customs may probably be traced to monastic origin. [13] the others are: s. sepulchre at northampton, c. 1100-1127; little maplestead in essex, c. 1300; the temple church in london, finished 1185. to these may be added the chapel in ludlow castle, c. 1120. [14] "cambridge described," by t. d. atkinson, p. 164. [15] _cf._ neubauer's _collectanea_, ii. p. 277 _sq._ [16] _cf._ rashdall's "universities of europe," vol. i. p. 347. [17] the earliest notice of this practice occurs in the university accounts for 1507-8, when carpenters are employed to carry the materials used for the stages from the schools to the church of the franciscans, to set them up there, and to carry them back again to the schools. similar notices are to be found in subsequent years. [18] _cf._ "the cambridge modern history," vol. i. p. 584, &c. [19] cooper's "annals," i. 42. [20] willis and clark, "architectural history of the university of cambridge," introduction, vol. i. p. xiv. [21] _cf._ list of names given in "willis and clark," vol. i. pp. xxv.-xxvii. [22] jubinal's "rutebeuf," quoted by wright in his _biographia britannica litteraria_, p. 40. [23] stubbs, "lectures on mediæval and modern history," p. 166. [24] anstey, _munimenta academica_, i. pp. 204-5. [25] "commiss. docts.," ii. 1. [26] "documents," ii. 78. [27] the actual expression is, of course, _scholares_, but it is best to translate the word by the later title of _fellows_ to avoid the erroneous impression which would otherwise be given. that the _scholares_ were occasionally called _fellows_ even in chaucer's day may be inferred from his lines- "oure corne is stole, men woll us fooles call, both the warden and our fellowes all." [28] document ii. 1-42, quoted from mullinger's "university of cambridge," i. 232. [29] "annals of the university," i. 95. [30] "documents," ii. 72. [31] british museum, cole, mss. xxxv. 112. [32] prynne, "canterbury's doom," quoted from willis a. d. clark, i. 46. [33] _philobiblon_, c. 9. [34] cooper's "memorials," ii. p. 196. [35] cooper's "memorials," vol. i. p. 30. [36] _cf._ rogers' "six centuries of work and wages," p. 224. "the disease made havoc among the secular and regular clergy, and we are told that a notable decline of learning and morals was thenceforward observed among the clergy, many persons of mean acquirements and low character stepping into the vacant benefices. even now the cloister of westminster abbey is said to contain a monument in the great flat stone, which we are told was laid over the remains of the many monks who perished in the great death.... some years ago, being at cambridge while the foundations of the new divinity schools were being laid, i saw that the ground was full of skeletons, thrown in without any attempt at order, and i divined that this must have been a cambridge plague pit." [37] _cf._ clarke, "cambridge," pp. 85, 86. [38] _cf._ mullinger, "cambridge," vol. i., footnote, p. 237. [39] the poet gray, it is said, occupied the rooms on the ground floor at the west end of the hitcham building. above them are those subsequently occupied by william pitt. [40] cooper's "memorials," i. p. 99. [41] "cambridge described," by t. d. atkinson, p. 326. [42] willis and clark, i. 177. [43] cooper's "annals," 140. [44] fuller's "history of the university," p. 255. [45] fuller's "history of the university," p. 98. [46] _cf._ introduction by professor maitland to the "cambridge borough charters," p. xvii. [47] miss mary bateson, "introduction to cambridge gild records," published by cambridge antiquarian society, 1903. [48] josselin, _historiola_, § 2. [49] fuller's "history of cambridge," p. 116. [50] stubbs, "constitutional history," vol. iii. p. 130. [51] robert bridges. [52] _second part of king henry vi._, act i. sc. 3. [53] j. w. clark, "cambridge," p. 145. [54] g. gilbert scott, "history of english architecture," p. 181. [55] j. w. clarke, "cambridge," p. 171. [56] fuller, "university of cambridge," p. 161. [57] "history of queens'," p. 154. [58] erasmus, _novum instrumentum_, leaf aaa. 3 to bbb. [59] _anglia sacra_, i. 650. [60] in the ely "obedientary rolls" i find, for example, the following entries for the expenses of these cambridge scholars of the monastery in the account of the chamberlain: "20, ed. iii. scholaribus pro obolo de libra, 6-1/2d. 31, 32, ed. iii. fratri s. de banneham scholari pro pensione sua 1/1-1/2. 40, ed. iii. solut' 3 scholar' studentibus apud cantabrig' 3/4-1/2. simoni de banham incipienti in theologia 2 3, viz. 1d. de libra. 9, hen. iv. dat' ffratri galfrido welyngton ad incepcionem suam in canone apud cantabrig' 6/8. 4, hen. v. ffratribus edmundo walsingham et henry madingley ad incepcionem 3/4." [61] warren, appendix cxvi. [62] "care of books," pp. 168-69. [63] vol. ii. 30. [64] "jesus college," by a. gray, p. 32. [65] "history of jesus," a. gray, p. 16. [66] "history of jesus," a. gray, p. 18. [67] willis and clark's "architectural history of cambridge," vol. ii. p. 123. [68] erasmus, _roberto piscatori_, epist. xiv. [69] mullinger, "history of the university of cambridge," vol. i. p. 439. [70] cooper's "annals," vol. i. p. 273. [71] mullinger, "history of the university," vol. i. p. 44. [72] fuller's "history of cambridge," p. 182. [73] dr. peile's "history of christ's college," p. 29. [74] cf. milton's "apology for smectymnus," 1642. [75] it might almost be supposed that the officials who drew royal charters kept a "model form" to meet the case of a suppressed religious house, altering the name and place to fit the occasion. [76] caxton, as he worked at his printing press in the almonry, which she had founded, and who was under her special protection, said "the worst thing she ever did" was trying to draw erasmus from his greek studies at cambridge to train her untoward stepson, james stanley, to be bishop of ely. [77] mullinger's "history of s. john's college," p. 17. [78] froude's "history of england," vol. ii. p. 266. [79] mullinger's "history of the university," vol. i. p. 628. [80] edition of furnivall, p. 88. [81] "english universities," vol. i. p. 307. [82] fuller, "history of cambridge," p. 196. [83] this absurdity is traceable to that _skeletos cantabrigiensis_ by richard parker, to which i drew attention in my first chapter. [84] nichol's "progress of queen elizabeth," v. i. p. 182. [85] cooper's "memorials," v. ii. p. 135. [86] fuller's "history of cambridge," p. 236. [87] "tom quad," the great court of christ church, oxford, has an area of 74,520 square feet. [88] "national dictionary of biography," vol. iv. p. 312. [89] mss. barker, vi. 85; mss. harl. mus. brit., 7033; quoted, willis and clark, ii. 700. [90] "documents," iii. 524, quoted by mullinger, i. 314. [91] mullinger, vol. i. p. 318. [92] fuller's "history of cambridge," p. 291. [93] this portrait in crayons by samuel cooper (1609-72) was presented to the college in january 1766 by thomas hollis. in hollis's papers underneath his memorandum of his present to the college are three lines of andrew marvell- "i freely declare it, i am for old noll; though his government did a tyrant resemble, he made england great, and her enemies tremble." mr. hollis also gave to christ's college four copies of the "paradise lost," two of them first editions. in 1761 he sent to trinity his portrait of newton. he also presented books to the libraries of harvard, berne and zurich: chiefly republican literature of the seventeenth century. * * * * * typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: thus serve to mark=> thus serves to mark {pg 43} his death in 1509=> his death in 1589 {pg 89} four widows=> four windows {pg 151} rennaisance=> renaissance {pg 267} great exent frustrated=> great extent frustrated {pg 272} nuts to crack; or, quips, quirks, anecdote and facete of oxford and cambridge scholars. by the author of "facetiæ cantabrigienses," etc. etc. etc. _philadelphia_: e. l. carey & a. hart. 1835. preface. though i intend this preface, prelude, or proem shall occupy but a single page, and be a _facile_ specimen of the _multum in parvo_ school, i find i have so little to say, i might spare myself the trouble of saying that little, only it might look a little odd (excuse my nibbing my pen) if, after writing a book, which by the way, may prove no book at all, i should introduce it to my readers,--did i say "readers?"--what a theme to dilate upon! but stop, stop, mr. exultation, nobody may read your book, _ergo_, you will have no readers. humph! i must nib my pen again. cooks, grocers, butchers, kitchenmaids, the roast! let brighter visions rise: methink i see it grace every room _peckwater_ round: methink i see, wherever _mighty tom_ sonorous peals forth his solemn "come, come, come!" the sons of oxon fly to _tallboys'_ store, or _parker's_ shelves, and cry "_the_ book, _the_ book!" methink i see in granta's streets a crowd for _deighton's_ and for _stevenson's_--anon, "_the_ book, _the_ book," they cry "give us _the_ book!" "_quips, quirks, and anecdotes?_" "aye, that's _the_ book!" and, then, methink i see on camus' side, or where the isis by her christ church glides, or charwell's lowlier stream, methink i see (as did the spanish prince of yore a son of salamanca beat his brow) some _togaed_ son of alma mater beat, aye, laugh and beat his brow. and then, like philip, i demand the cause? and then he laughs outright, and in my face he thrusts a book, and cries, "sir, read, read, read, ha, ha, ha, ha!" and stamps and laughs the while;--and then, ye gods, it proves to be _the_ book,--_quips, quirks, and anecdotes_--ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! i cry you mercy, sirs, read, read, read, read! from eton, harrow, winchester, and west, come orders thick as autumn leaves e'er fell, as larks at dunstable, or egypt's plagues. the row is in commotion,--all the world rushes by _amen corner_, or _st. paul's_: how like a summer-hive they go and come: the very chapter's caught the stirring theme, and, like king james at christ church, scents a hum.[1] e'en caxton's ghost stalks forth to beg a tome, and _wynkyn's_ shroud in vain protests his claims. "there's not a copy left," cries _whitt's_ or _long's_, as caxton bolts with the extremest tome, and wynkyn, foiled, shrinks grimly into air, veil'd in a cloud of scarce black-letter lore. had galen's self, sirs, _ab origine_, or æsculapius, or the modern school of pharmacopoeians drugged their patients thus, they long ago, aye, long ago, had starved; your undertakers had been gone extinct, and churchyards turned to gambol-greens, forsooth. mirth, like good wine, no help from physic needs:--blue devils and ennui! ha, ha, ha, ha! didst ever taste champagne? then laugh, sirs, laugh,--"laugh and grow fat," the maxim's old and good: the stars sang at their birth--"ha, ha, ha, ha!" i cry you mercy, sirs, _the_ book, _the_ book, _quips, quirks, and anecdotes_. oxonians hear! "ha, ha, ha, ha!" let granta, too, respond. what would you more? _the_ book, sirs, read, read, read. 'tis true, my work's a diamond in the rough, and that there still are _sparkling bits_ abroad, by wits whose wages _may not be to die_, would make it, aye, the very _book of books!_ let them, anon, to _cornhill_ wend their way (p.p.) to cut a figure in ed. sec. 3d, or 4th, from isis or from cam. what if they say, as maudlin cole of boyle, because some christ-church wits adorned his page with their chaste learning, "'_tis a chedder cheese made of the milk of all the parish_,"--sirs, d'ye think i'd wince and call them knave or fool? methink i'd joy to spur them to the task! methink i see the mirth-inspired sons of christ-church and the rest, penning rich puns, bon-mots, and brave conceits, for ages have, at oxon, "borne the bell," and oft the table set in _royal_ roar. methink i see the wits of camus, too, go laughing to the task,--and then, methink, o! what a glorious toil were mine, at last, to send them trumpet-tongued through all the world! [1] sir isaac wake says in his _rex platonicus_, that when james the first attended the performance of a play in the hall of christ-church, oxford, the scholars applauded his majesty by clapping their hands and _humming_. the latter somewhat surprised the royal auditor, but on its being explained to signify applause, he expressed himself satisfied. contents. page was oxford or cambridge first founded? 13 origin of this celebrated controversy 16 died of literary mortification 17 sir simon d'ewes on antiquity of cambridge _ib._ gone to jerusalem 18 cutting retort--liberty a plant 19, 20 a tailor surprised--declining king george, &c. 20 classical _jeu d'esprit_--trait of barrow 21 inveterate smokers 22 lover of tobacco--a wager, &c. 22, 23 newton's toast--piety of ray 23 devil over lincoln--radcliffe's library 24 traits of dr. bathurst--his whip, &c. 25 smart fellows _ib._ epigram--tell us what you can't do? 26, 27 first woman introduced into a cloister 27 cambridge scholar and ghost of scrag of mutton 28 comparisons are odious 30 jaunt down a patient's throat--difference of opinion 30, 31 petit-maitre physician--anecdote of porson 31 [greek: ou tode oud allo]--aliquid--di-do-dum 32 bishop heber's college puns _ib._ effect of broad-wheeled wagon, &c. 33 queen elizabeth and the men of exeter college, &c. 34 oxonians posed--lapsus grammaticæ 35 latin to be used--habit--concussion 36 comic picture of provost's election 37 sir, dominus, magistri, sir greene 38 husbands beat their wives--attack on ladies 39 doings at merton--digging graves with teeth 40 doctor's gratitude to horse--john sharp's rogue 41 said as how you'd see--much noise as please 42, 43 mad peter-house poet--grace cup 44, 45 tertiavit--capacious bowl--horn diversion 46 bibulous relique--christian custom--feast days 47 walpole at cambridge--college dinner 16th century 49, 50 black night--force of imagination--absent habits 52, 53 anecdotes of early cambridge poets 54 cromwell's pear-tree, &c. 58 stung by a b--dr. p. nest of saxonists 61 pleasant mistake--minding roast 62 college exercise--bell--fun--tulip-time 62, 63 king of denmark--king william iv. visit cambridge 64, 65 queen elizabeth's visit to oxford and cambridge 66, 67 first dissenter in england 67 first english play extant by cambridge scholar 68 christ-church scholars invented moveable scenes 70 james i. at oxford and cambridge 71 divinity act--latin comedy 76, 77 case of precedence--smothered in petticoats 78, 79 brief account of boar's head carols 79 celebration of, at queen's college, oxon 83 cleaving block--being little 84, 85 traits of porson--wakefield--clarke 87, 88 blue beans--university bedels--dr. bentley 89, 90 great gaudy all-souls mallard 91 oxford dream--compliments to learned men 96, 98 point of etiquette--value of syllable 101, 102 cocks may crow--profane scoffers 102 jemmy gordon--oxford wag 103, 106 cambridge frolics--black rash 107, 108 old grizzle wig--shooting anecdotes 109, 110 bishop watson's progress--paley, &c. 111, 115 oxford hoax--good saying 116, 117 walpole a saint--oxford famous for its sophists, &c. 118 laconic vice--usum oxon--pert oxonians 120, 121 corrupted latin tongue--surpassed aristotle, &c. 121 set aristotle heels upwards--art of cutting 122, 123 soldiers at oxford disputation, &c. 123 captain rag--dainty morsels 124, 125 answered in kind--powers of digestion 126, 127 inside passenger--traits of paley 128, 129 lord burleigh and dissenters--sayings 134, 135 porson--greek protestants at oxon 135, 136 cambridge folk--gyps--drops of brandy--dessert for twenty, &c. 137, 138 parr's eloquence--address--vanity, &c. 140 trick of the devil--three classical puns 142, 143 acts--pleasant story--epigram--revenge 144, 145 mothers' darlings--fathers' favourites 146, 147 iter academicum--a story 148, 149 anecdotes of freshmen 150 lord eldon--whissonset church 151, 152 boots--yellow stockings--fashion hair 153, 154 barber dressed--first prelate wore wig 155, 159 boots, spurs, &c. prohibited at oxon 159 whipping, &c.--flying cambridge barber 159, 160 isthmus suez--drink for church 160, 161 good appetite--college quiz--the greatest calf 162, 163 like rabelais--ambassadors king jesus at oxon 163, 164 effort intellect--dr. hallifax--dr. tucker 164, 165 distich--skeleton sermons--paid first 165, 166 in the stocks--hissing--posing--gross pun 167, 168 family spintexts--alcock--barrow, parr, &c. 169, 170 three-headed priest--burnt to cinder 171, 172 cantab invented short-hand--humble petition of ladies 172, 173 turn for humour--repartees--all over germany 174, 175 oxford and cambridge rebuses 175 something in your way--duns--out of debt 177 queering a dun--gray and warburton 179 canons of criticism--bishop barrington 181 pulpit admonition--simplicity of great minds 182 singularities--triple discourse 184, 185 traits of lord sandwich--lapsus linguæ 185, 186 oxford and cambridge loyalty--clubs, &c. 186, 189 retrogradation--on-dit 190 worcester goblin--cambridge triposes 191, 192 records of cambridge triposes--wooden spoon--poll--conceits of porson, vince, &c. 193, 194 classical triposes--wooden wedge--disney's song 197, 198 a dreadful fit of rheumatism 199 parr an ingrate--le diable--critical civilities 200, 201 sir busick and sir isaac again--cole: deum 201, 202 freshman's puzzle 202 sly humourist--noble oxonian--oxford wag--person of gravity 203, 204 the enough 204 oxford and cambridge nuts to crack; or, quips, quirks, anecdote and facete. * * * * * was oxford or cambridge first founded? "oxford must from all antiquity have been either somewhere or nowhere. where was it in the time of tarquinius priscus? if it was nowhere, it surely must have been somewhere. where was it?"--_facetiæ cant._ here is a conundrum to unravel, or a nut to crack, compared to which the _dædalean labyrinth_ was a farce. after so many of the learned have failed to extract the kernel, though by no means deficient in what gall and spurzheim would call _jawitiveness_ (as their writings will sufficiently show,) i should approach it with "fear and trembling," did i not remember the encouraging reproof of "queen bess" to sir walter raleigh's "fain would i climb but that i fear to fall"--so _dentals_ to the task, come what may. a new light has been thrown upon the subject of late, in an unpublished "righte merrie comedie," entitled "trinity college, cambridge," from which i extract the following jeu de poesie. when first our alma mater rose, though we must laud her and love her, nobody cares, and nobody knows, and nobody can discover: some say a spaniard, one cantaber, christen'd her, or gave birth to her, or his daughter--that's likelier, more, by far, though some honour king brute above her. pythagoras, beans-consuming dog, ('tis the tongue of tradition that speaks,) built her a lecture-room fit for a hog,[2] where now they store cabbage and leeks: and there mathematics he taught us, they say, till catching a cold on a dull rainy day, he packed up his _tomes_, and he ran away to the land of his fathers, the greeks. but our alma mater still can boast, although the old grecian would go, of glorious names a mighty host, you'll find in wood, fuller and coe: of whom i will mention but just a few- bacon, and newton, and milton will do: there are thousands more, i assure you, whose honours encircle her brow. then long may our alma mater reign, of learning and science the star, whether she were from greece or spain, or had a king brute for her pa; and with oxon, her sister, for aye preside, for it never was yet by man denied, that the world can't show the like beside,- let echo repeat it afar! [2] the school of pythagoras is an ancient building, situated behind st. john's college, cambridge, wherein the _old grecian_, says tradition, lectured before cambridge became a university. whether those who say so _lie_ under a mistake, as tom hood would say, i am not now going to inquire. at any rate, "sic transit," the building is now a barn or storehouse for garden stuff. those who would be further acquainted with this relique of by-gone days, may read a very interesting account of it extant in the library of the british museum, illustrated with engravings, and written by a fellow of merton college, oxford, to which society, says wilson, in his _memorabilia catabrigiæ_, "it was given by edward iv., who took it from king's college, cambridge. it is falsely supposed to have been one of the places where the croyland monks read lectures." it matters little whether we sons of _alma mater_ sprung from the loins of pythagoras, cantaber, or the kings brute and alfred. they were all respectable in their way, so that we need not blush, "proh pudor," to own their paternity. but let us hear what the _cutting_ writer of _terræ filius_ has to say on the subject. "grievous and terrible has been the squabble, amongst our chronologers and genealogists concerning the precedence of oxford and cambridge. what deluges of christian ink have been shed on both sides in this weighty controversy, to prove which is the elder of the two learned and most ingenious ladies? it is wonderful to see that they should always be making themselves older than they really are; so contrary to most of their sex, who love to conceal their wrinkles and gray hairs as much as they can; whereas these two aged matrons are always quarrelling for seniority, and employing counsel to plead their causes for 'em. these are old _nick cantalupe_ and _caius_ on one side, and _bryan twynne_ and _tony wood_ on the other, who, with equal learning, deep penetration, and acuteness, have traced their ages back, god knows how far: one was born just after the siege of _troy_, and the other several hundred years before christ; since which time they have gone by as many names as the pretty little _bantling_ at _rome_, or the woman that was hanged t'other day in _england_, for having twenty-three husbands. _oxford_, say they, was the daughter of _mempricius_, an old _british_ king, who called her from his own name, _caer memprick_, alias _greeklade_, alias _leechlade_, alias _rhidycen_, alias _bellositum_, alias _oxenforde_, alias _oxford_, as all great men's children have several names. so was _cambridge_, say others, the daughter of one _cantaber_, a _spanish_ rebel and fugitive, who called her _caergrant_, alias _cantabridge_, alias _cambridge_. but, that i may not affront either of these old ladies," adds this facetious but sarcastic writer, "i will not take it upon me to decide which of the two hath most wrinkles * * * *. who knows but they may be twins." another authority, the author of the history of cambridge, published by ackermann, in 1815, says that this celebrated controversy had its origin in 1564, when queen elizabeth visited the university of cambridge, and "the public orator, addressing her majesty, embraced the opportunity of extolling the antiquity of the university to which he belonged above that of oxford. this occasioned thomas key, master of university, college, oxford, to compose a small treatise on the antiquity of his own university, which he referred to the fabulous period when the greek professors accompanied brute to england; and to the less ambiguous era of 870, when science was invited to the banks of the isis, under the auspices of the great alfred. a ms. copy of this production of thomas key accidentally came into the hands of the earl of leicester, from whom it passed into those of dr. john caius (master and founder of gonvile and caius colleges, cambridge,) who, resolving not to be vanquished in asserting the chronological claims of his own university, undertook to prove the foundation of cambridge by cantaber, nearly four hundred years before the christian era. he thus assigned the birth of cambridge to more than 1200 anterior to that which had been secondarily ascribed to oxford by the champion of that seat of learning; and yet it can be hardly maintained that he had the best of the argument, since the primary foundation by the son of æneas, it is evident, remains unimpeached, and the name of brute, to say the least of it, is quite as creditable as that of cantaber. the work which dr. john caius published, though under a feigned name, along with that which it was written to refute, was entitled, '_de antiquitate catabrigiensis academiæ_, libri ii. _in quorum 2do. de oxoniensis quoque gymnasii antiquitate disseritur, et cantabrigiense longe eo antiquius esse definitur, londinense authore: adjunximus assertionem antiquitatis oxoniensis academiæ ab oxoniensi quodam annis jam elapsis duobus ad reginam conscriptam in qua docere conatur, oxoniense gymnasium cantabrigiensi antiquius esse: ut ex collatione facile intelligas, utra sit antequior. excusum londini,_ a. d. 1568, _mense augusto, per henricum bynnenum,_ 12mo.'" and is extant in the british museum. as may well be supposed by those who are acquainted with the progress of literary warfare, this work of dr. john caius drew from his namesake, thomas caius, a vindication of that which it was intended to refute; and this work he entitled "_thomæ caii vindiciæ antiquitatis academiæ oxoniensis contra joannem caium cantabrigiensem._" these two singular productions were subsequently published together by hearne, the oxford antiquary, who, with a prejudice natural enough, boasts that the forcible logic of the oxford advocate "broke the heart and precipitated the death of his cambridge antagonist." in other words, dr. john caius, it is said, died of literary mortification, on learning that his oxford opponent had _prepared a new_ edition of his work, _to be published after his death_, in which he was told were some arguments thought to bear hard on his own. "but this appears to have as little foundation as other stories of the kind," says the editor of the history just quoted; "since it is not probable that dr. john caius ever saw the strictures which are said to have occasioned his death: for, as thomas caius died in 1572, they remained in ms. till they were published by hearne in 1730;"--a conclusion, however, to which our learned historian seems to have jumped rather hastily, as it was just as possible that a ms. copy reached dr. john caius in the second as in the first case; and it is natural to suppose that the oxford champion would desire it should be so. as a specimen of the manner in which such controversies are conducted, i conclude with the brief notice, that tony wood, as the author of _terræ-fillius_ calls him, has largely treated of the subject in his _annals of oxford_, where he states, that sir simon d'ewes, when compiling his work on the antiquity of the university of cambridge, "thought he should be able to set abroad a _new matter_, that was never heard of before, for the advancement of his own town and university of cambridge above oxford;" but "hath done very little or nothing else but renewed the old crambe, and taken up dr. cay's old song, running with him in his opinions and tenets, whom he before condemning of dotage, makes himself by consequence a dotard." according to sir simon, "valence college (_i. e._ pembroke hall) was the first endowed college in england;" "his avouching which," says wood, "is of no force;" and he, as might be expected, puts in a claim for his own college (merton, of oxford,) "which," he adds, "sir simon might have easily known, had he been conversant with histories, was the oldest foundation in either university." therefore, "if the antiquity of cambridge depends upon valence college (or rather, upon peter house,) and that house upon this distich, which stood for a public inscription in the parlour window thereof, it signifies nothing:- "qua præit oxoniam cancestria longa vetustas primatus a petri dicitur orsa domo." he finally overwhelms his opponent by adding, that oxford became a public university in 1264, and that a bull for the purpose was obtained the previous year, cambridge then "_being but an obscure place of learning, if any at all_." thus i have cracked _nut the first_. those who would add "sweets to the sweets" may find them in abundance in the writers i have named already; and the subject is treated of very learnedly by dyer, in his _dedication_ to his "privileges of the university of cambridge." * * * * * gone to jerusalem. a learned living oriental scholar, and a senior fellow of st. john's college, cambridge, who thinks less of journeying to shiraz, timbuctoo, or the holy land, than a cockney would of a trip to greenwich fair or bagnigge wells, _kept_ in the same court, in college, with a late tutor, now the amiable rector of staple----t, in kent. it was their daily practice, when in residence, to take a ramble together, by the footpaths, round by granchester, and back to college by trumpington, or to madingley, or the hills, but more commonly the former; all delightful in their way, and well known to gownsmen for various associations. to one of these our college dons daily wended their way cogitating, for they never talked, it is said, over the _omnia magna_ of cambridge life. their invariable practice was to keep moving at a stiff pace, some four or five yards in advance of each other. our amiable tutor went one forenoon to call on mr. p. before starting, as usual, and found his door _sported_. this staggered him a little. mr. p.'s bed-maker chanced to come up at the instant. "where is mr. p.?" was his query. "gone out, sir," was the reply. "gone out!" exclaimed mr. h.; "where to?" "to _jerusalem_," she rejoined. and to jerusalem he was gone, sure enough; a circumstance of so little import in his eyes, who had seen most parts of the ancient world already, and filled the office of tutor to an infanta of spain, that he did not think it matter worth the notice of his _college chum_. other travellers, "_vox et ratio_," as horace says, would have had the circumstance bruited in every periodical in christendom, "_quinque sequuntur te pueri_." * * * * * a cutting retort is attributed to the celebrated lord chesterfield, when a student of trinity hall, cambridge, where he is said to have studied hard, and rose daily, in the depth of winter, at four or five. he one day met a drunken fellow in the streets of cambridge, who refused him the wall, observing, "i never give the wall to a rascal." "i do," retorted his lordship, moving out of the way. it was probably this incident that gave rise to the couplet- "base man to take the wall i ne'er permit." the scholar said, "i do;" and gave him it. * * * * * liberty a plant. "qui teneros caules alieni fregerit horti."--_hor._ during the progress of a political meeting held in the town of cambridge, it so happened that the late dr. mansel, then public orator of the university of cambridge, but afterwards master of trinity college and bishop of bristol, came to the place of meeting just as musgrave, the well known political tailor of his day, was in the midst of a most _pathetic_ oration, and emphatically repeating, "liberty, liberty, gentlemen--" he paused,--"liberty is _a plant_--" "so is a _cabbage!_" exclaimed the caustic mansel, before musgrave had time to complete his sentence, with so happy an allusion to the trade of the tailor, that he was silenced amidst roars of laughter. another instance of-a tailor being taken by surprise, but by an oxonian, a learned member of christ church, is recorded in the fact, that having, for near half a century, been accustomed to walk with a favourite stick, the _ferule_ of which, at the bottom, came off, he took it to his _tailor_ to have it repaired. * * * * * reasons for not publishing. the famous antiquary, thomas baker, b.d. of st. john's college, cambridge, of which he was long _socius ejectus_, lays it down as a principle, in his admirable _reflections on learning_, "that if we had _fewer_ books, we should have more learning." it is singular that he never published but the one book named, though he has left behind him forty-two volumes of manuscripts, the greater part in the harleian collection, in the british museum, principally relating to cambridge, and all neatly written in his own hand. * * * * * declining king george. when "honest vere" foster, as he is called by "mild william," his contemporary at college, and the grandfather of our celebrated traveller, dr. edward daniel clarke, was a student at cambridge, where he was celebrated for his wit and humour, and for being a good scholar, st. john's being looked upon as a tory college, a young fellow, a student, reputed a whig, was appointed to deliver an oration in the college hall, on the 5th of november. this he did; but having, for some time, dwelt on the double deliverance of that day, in his peroration, he passed from king william to king george, on whom he bestowed great encomiums. when the speech was over, honest vere and the orator being at table together, the former addressed the latter with, "i did not imagine, sir, that you would _decline_ king george in your speech." "_decline!_" said the astonished orator; "what do you mean? i spoke very largely and handsomely of him." "that is what i mean, too, sir," said vere: "for you had him in every case and termination: _georgius--georgii--georgio--georgium--o georgi!_" another of "honest vere's" classical jeu d'esprit is deserving a place in our treasury. he one day asked his learned college contemporary, dr. john taylor, editor of demosthenes, "why he talked of selling his horse?" "because," replied the doctor, "i cannot afford to keep him in these _hard times_." "you should keep a _mare_," rejoined foster, "according to horace- 'æquam memento rebus in arduis servare.'" * * * * * a trait of barrow. soon after that great, good, and loyal son of granta, dr. isaac barrow, was made a prebend of salisbury, says dr. pope, "i overheard him say, '_i wish i had five hundred pounds_.' 'that's a large sum for a philosopher,' observed dr. pope; 'what would you do with so much?' 'i would,' said he, 'give it to my sister for a portion, that would procure her _a good husband_.' a few months after," adds his memorialist, "he was made happy by receiving the above sum," which he so much desired, "for putting a _new life_ into the _corps_ of his new prebend." * * * * * inveterate smokers. both oxford and cambridge have been famous for inveterate smokers. amongst them was the learned dr. isaac barrow, who said "it helped his thinking." his illustrious pupil, newton, was scarcely less addicted to the "indian weed," and every body has heard of his _hapless courtship_, when, in a moment of forgetfulness, he popped the lady's finger into his burning pipe, instead of _popping the question_, and was so chagrined, that he never could be persuaded to press the matter further. dr. parr was allowed his pipe when he dined with the _first gentleman in europe_, george the fourth, and when refused the same indulgence by a lady at whose house he was staying, he told her, "she was the greatest _tobacco-stopper_ he had ever met with." the celebrated dr. farmer, of _black-letter_ memory, preferred the comforts of the parlour of emmanuel college, of which he was master, and a "_yard of clay_" (there were no _hookahs_ in his day,) to a bishopric, which dignity he twice refused, when offered to him by mr. pitt. another learned lover of tobacco, and eke of wit, mirth, puns, and pleasantry, was the famous dr. aldrich, dean of christ church, oxford, the never-to-be-forgotten composer of the good old catch- "hark, the merry christ-church bells," and of another to be _sung by four men smoking their pipes_, which is not more difficult to sing than diverting to hear. his pipe was his breakfast, dinner, and supper, and a student of christ church, at 10 o'clock one night, finding it difficult to persuade a "freshman" of the fact, laid him a wager, that the dean was at that instant smoking. away he hurried to the deanery to decide the controversy, and on gaining admission, apologised for his intrusion by relating the occasion of it. "well," replied the dean, in perfect good humour, with his pipe in his hand, "you see you have lost your wager: for i am not smoking, but filling my pipe." * * * * * game in every bush. bishop watson says, in his valuable chemical essays, that sir isaac newton and dr. bentley met accidentally in london, and on sir isaac's inquiring what philosophical _pursuits_ were carrying on at cambridge, the doctor replied, "none; for when you are a-hunting, sir isaac, you kill all the game; you have left us nothing to pursue." "not so," said the philosopher, "you may start a variety of game in every bush, if you will but take the trouble to beat it." "and so in truth it is," adds dr. w.; "every object in nature affords occasion for philosophical experiment." * * * * * newton's toast. the editor of the literary panorama, says corneille le bruyer, the famous dutch painter, relates, that "happening one day to dine at the table of newton, with other foreigners, when the dessert was sent up, newton proposed, 'a health to the men of every country who believed in a god;' which," says the editor, "was drinking the health of the whole human race." equal to this was the piety of ray, the celebrated naturalist and divine, who (when ejected from his fellowship of trinity college, cambridge, for _non-conformity_, and, for the same reason, being no longer at liberty to exercise his clerical functions as a preacher of the gospel,) turned to the pursuit of the sciences of natural philosophy and botany for consolation. "because i could no longer serve god in the church," said this great and good man (in his preface to the wisdom of god manifested in the works of the creation,) "i thought myself more bound to do it by my writings." * * * * * the devil looking over lincoln. is a tradition of many ages' standing, but the origin of the celebrated statue of his satanic majesty, which of erst overlooked lincoln college, oxford, is not so certain as that the effigy was popular, and gave rise to the saying. after outstanding centuries of hot and cold, jibes and jeers, "_cum multis aliis_," to which _stone_, as well as flesh, is heir, it was taken down on the 15th of november, 1731, says a writer in the gentleman's magazine, having lost its head in a storm about two years previously, at the same time the head was blown off the statue of king charles the first, which overlooked whitehall. * * * * * radcliffe's library. tom warton relates, in his somewhat rambling life of dr. ralph bathurst, president of trinity college, oxford, that dr. radcliffe was a student of lincoln college when dr. b. presided over trinity; but notwithstanding their difference of age and distance of situation, the president used to visit the young student at lincoln college "merely for the smartness of his conversation." during one of these morning or evening calls, dr. b. observing the embryo physician had but few books in his chambers, asked him "where was his study?" upon which young radcliffe replied, pointing to a few books, a skeleton, and a herbal, "this, sir, is radcliffe's library." tom adds the following traits of dr. bathurst's wit and habits. when the doctor was vice-chancellor of oxford, a captain of a company, who had fought bravely in the cause of his royal master, king charles the first, being recommended to him for the degree of d.c.l., the doctor told the son of mars he could not confer the degree, "but he would apply to his majesty to give him a regiment of horse!" he frequently carried a whip in his hand, an instrument of correction not entirely laid aside in our universities in his time; but (says tom) he _only_ "delighted to _surprise_ scholars, when walking in the grove at unseasonable hours. this he practised," adds warton, "on account of the pleasure he took in giving _so odd_ an alarm, rather than from any principle of reproving, or intention of applying so illiberal a punishment." one thing is certain, that in the statutes of trinity college, oxford (as late as 1556,) scholars of the foundation are ordered to be whipped even to the twentieth year. "dr. potter," says aubery, while a tutor of the above college, "_whipped his pupil with his sword by his side_, when he came to take his leave of him to go to the inns of court." this was done to make him a _smart_ fellow. "in sir john fane's collection of letters of the paston family, written _temp_. henry vi.," says the author of the _gradus ad catabrigiam_, "we find one of the gentle sex prescribing for her son, who was at cambridge," no doubt with a maternal anxiety that he should be a smart fellow, as follows:--"prey grenefield to send me faithfully worde by wrytyn, who (how) clemit paston hathe do his dever i' lernying, and if he hath nought do well, nor will nought amend, prey hym that he wyll truely belash hym _tyl_ he wyll amend, and so dyd the last mastyr, and the best eu' he had at cambridge." and that master grenefield might not want due encouragement, she concludes with promising him "x m'rs," for his _pains_. we do not, however, learn how many _marks_ young master clemit received, who certainly took _more pains_.--patiendo _non faciendo_--ferendo _non feriendo_. * * * * * milton was belashed over the buttery-hatch of christ-college, cambridge, and, as dr. johnson insinuates in his life, was the last cambridge student so castigated in either university. the officer who performed this _fundamental_ operation was dr. thomas bainbrigge, the master of christ's college. but as it was at a later date that dr. ralph bathurst carried his whip, according to our friend tom's showing, to _surprise_ the scholars, it is therefore going a great length to give our "prince of poets" the _sole_ merit of being the last _smart_ fellow that issued from the halls of either oxford or cambridge, handsome as he was. the following celebrated epigram on an epigram, printed, says the oxford sausage, "from the original mss. preserved in the archives of the jelly-bag society," is somewhere said to have been written by dr. ralph bathurst, when an oxford scholar:- one day in _christ-church_ meadows walking, of poetry and such things talking, says _ralph_, a merry wag, an epigram, if right and good, in all its circumstances should be like a jelly-bag. your simile, i own, is new, but how dost make it out? quoth hugh. quoth ralph, i'll tell you, friend: make it at top both wide and fit to hold a budget full of wit, and point it at the end. * * * * * tell us what you can't do? a party of oxford scholars were one evening carousing at the star inn, when a waggish student, a stranger to them, abruptly introduced himself, and seeing he was not "one of us," they all began to _quiz_ him. this put him upon his mettle, and besides boasting of other accomplishments, he told them, in plain terms, that he could write greek or latin verses better, and was, in short, an over-match for them at any thing. upon this, one of the party exclaimed, "you have told us a great deal of what you can do, _tell us something you can't do_?" "well," he retorted, "i'll tell you what i can't do--_i can't pay my reckoning!_" this sally won him a hearty welcome. * * * * * the first women introduced into a cloister. about 1550, whilst the famous richard cox, bishop of ely, was dean of christ-church, oxford, says cole, in his athenæ cant., "he brought his wife into the college, who, with the wife of peter martyr, a canon of the same cathedral, were observed to be the first women ever introduced into a cloister or college, and, upon that account, gave no small scandal at the time." this reminds me of an anecdote that used to amuse the under-grads in my day at cambridge. a certain d.d., head of a college, a _bachelor_, and in his habits retired to a degree of solitariness, in an unlucky moment gave a lady that did not want twice bidding, not bill of exchange, but a _running_ invitation to the college lodge, to be used at pleasure. she luckily seized the long vacation for making her appearance, when there were but few students in residence; but to the confusion of our d.d., her _ten_ daughters came _en traine_, and the college was not a little scandalized by their playing shuttlecock in the open court--the lady was in no haste to go. report says sundry hints were given in vain. she took his original _invite_ in its literal sense, to "suit her own convenience." the anxiety he endured threw our modest d.d. in to a sick-bed, and not relishing the office of nurse to a bachelor of sixty years' standing, she decamped, + her ten daughters. * * * * * the cambridge scholar and the ghost of a scrag of mutton. in the days that are past, by the side of a stream, where waters but softly were flowing, with ivy o'ergrown an old mansion-house stood, that was built on the skirts of a chilling damp wood, where the yew-tree and cypress were growing. the villagers shook as they passed by the doors, when they rested at eve from their labours; and the traveller many a furlong went round, if his ears once admitted the terrific sound, of the tale that was told by the neighbours. they said, "that the house in the skirts of the wood by a saucer-eyed ghost was infested, who filled every heart with confusion and fright, by assuming strange shapes at the dead of the night, shapes monstrous, and foul, and detested." and truly they said, and the monster well knew, that the ghost was the greatest of evils; for no sooner the bell of the mansion toll'd one, than the frolicksome imp in a fury begun to caper like ten thousand devils. he appeared in forms the most strange and uncouth, sure never was goblin so daring! he utter'd loud shrieks and most horrible cries, curst his body and bones, and his _sweet little eyes_, till his impudence grew beyond bearing. just at this nick o' time, when the master's sad heart with anguish and sorrow was swelling, he heard that a scholar with science complete, full of magical lore as an egg's full of meat, at _cambridge_ had taken a dwelling. the scholar was versed in all magical arts, most famous was he throughout _college_; to the red sea full oft many an unquiet ghost, to repose with king pharaoh and his mighty host he had sent through his powerful knowledge. to this scholar so learn'd the master he went, and as lowly he bent with submission, told the freaks of the horrible frights that prevented his household from resting at nights, and offered this humble petition:- "that he, the said scholar, in wisdom so wise, would the mischievous fiend lay in fetters; would send him in torments for ever to dwell, in the nethermost pit of the nethermost hell, for destroying the sleep of his betters." the scholar so versed in all magical lore, told the master his pray'r should be granted; he ordered his horse to be saddled with speed, and perch'd on the back of his cream colour'd steed, trotted off to the house that was haunted. "bring me turnips and milk!" the scholar he cried, in voice like the echoing thunder: he brought him some turnips and suet beside, some milk and a spoon, and his motions they eyed, quite lost in conjecture and wonder. he took up the turnips, and peel'd off the skins, put them into a pot that was boiling; spread a table and cloth, and made ready to sup, then call'd for a fork, and the turnips fished up in a hurry, for they were a-spoiling. he mash'd up the turnips with butter and milk: the hail at the casement 'gan clatter! yet this scholar ne'er heeded the tempest without, but raising his eyes, and turning about, asked the maid for a small wooden platter. he mash'd up the turnips with butter and salt, the storm came on thicker and faster- the lightnings went flash, and with terrific din the wind at each crevice and cranny came in, tearing up by the root lath and plaster. he mash'd up the turnips with nutmegs and spice, the mess would have ravish'd a glutton; when lo! with sharp bones hardly covered with skin, the ghost from a nook o'er the window peep'd in, in the form of _a boil'd scrag of mutton_. "ho! ho!" said the ghost, "what art doing below?" the scholar peep'd up in a twinkling- "the times are too hard to afford any meat, so to render my turnips more pleasant to eat, a few grains of pepper i'm sprinkling." then he caught up a fork, and the mutton he seiz'd, and soused it at once in the platter; threw o'er it some salt and a spoonful of fat, and before the poor ghost could tell what he was at, he was gone like a mouse down the throat of a cat, and this is the whole of the matter. * * * * * comparisons are odious. doctor john franklin, fellow and master of sidney college, cambridge, 1730, "a very fat, rosy-complexioned man," dying soon after he was made dean of ely, and being succeeded by dr. ellis, "a meagre, weasel-faced, swarthy, black man," the _fenman_ of ely, says (cole) in allusion thereto, out of vexation at being so soon called upon for _recognition money_, made the following humorous distitch:- "the devil took our dean, and pick'd his bones clean; then clapt him on a board, and sent him back again." * * * * * jaunt down a patient's throat. "two of a trade can ne'er agree, no proverb e'er was juster; they've ta'en down bishop blaize, d'ye see, and put up bishop bluster." _dr. mansel, on bishop watson's head becoming a signboard, in cambridge, in lieu of the ancient one of bishop blaize._--facetiæ cant., _p._ 7. sir isaac pennington and sir busick harwood were cotemporary at cambridge. the first as regius professor of physic and senior fellow of st. john's college, the other was professor of anatomy and fellow of downing college. both were eminent in their way, but seldom _agreed_, and held each other's abilities pretty _cheap_, some say in sovereign contempt. sir busick was once called in by the friends of a patient that had been under sir isaac's care, but had obtained small relief, anxious to hear his opinion of the malady. not approving of the treatment pursued, he inquired "who was the physician in attendance," and on being told, exclaimed--"he! if he were to descend into a patient's stomach with a _candle and lantern_, he would not have been able to name the complaint!" this difference of opinion was hit off, it is supposed, not by dean swift or wicked will whiston, but by bishop mansel, as follows:- sir isaac, sir busick; sir busick, sir isaac; 'twould make you and i sick to taste their physick. another, perhaps the same cambridge wag, penned the following quaternion on sir isaac, which appeared under the title of an epigram on a petit-maitre physician. when pennington for female ills indites, studying alone not what, but how he writes, the ladies, as his graceful form they scan, cry, with ill-omen'd rapture, "_killing man_!" but sir isaac, too, was a wit, and chanced on a time to be one of a cambridge party, amongst whom was a rich old fellow, an invalid, who was too mean to buy an opinion on his case, and thought it a good opportunity to _worm_ one out of sir isaac _gratis_. he accordingly seized the opportunity for reciting the whole catalogue of his _ills_, ending with, "what would you advise me to take, my dear sir isaac?" "i should recommend you _to take advice_," was the reply. * * * * * porson, whose very name conjures up the spirits of ten thousand wits, holding both sides, over a copus of trinity ale and a classical pun, would not only frequently "steal a few hours from the night," but see out both lights and liquids, and seem none the worse for the carouse. he had one night risen for the purpose of reaching his hat from a peg to depart, after having finished the port, sherry, gin-store, &c., when he espied a can of _beer_, says dyer, (surely it must have been _audit_,) in a corner. restoring his hat to its resting place, he reseated himself with the following happy travestie of the old nursery lines- "when wine is gone, and ale is spent, then small beer is most excellent." it was no uncommon thing for his _gyp_ to enter his room with phoebus, and find him still _en robe_, with no other companions but a homer, æschylus, plato, and a dozen or two other old grecians surrounding an empty bottle, or what his late royal highness the duke of york would have styled "a marine," _id est_ "a good fellow, who had done his duty, and was ready to do it again." upon his _gyp_ once peeping in before day light, and finding him still up, porson answered his "_quod petis?_" (whether he wanted _candles_ or _liquor_,) with [greek: ou tode oud' allo.] scotticè--neither _toddy_ nor _tallow_. at another time, when asked what he would drink? he replied?--"_aliquid_" (a liquid.) he was once boasting at a cambridge party, that he could pun upon anything, when he was challenged to do so upon the _latin gerunds_, and exclaimed, after a pause- "when dido found æneas would not come. she mourned in silence, and was _di-do-dum(b)_." bishop heber's college puns. the late amiable, learned, and pious bishop heber was not above a pun in his day, notwithstanding dr. johnson's _anathema_, that a man who made a pun would pick a pocket. among the _jeux des mots_ attributed to him are the following: he was one day dining with an oxford party, comprises the élite of his day, and when the servant was in the act of removing the table-cloth from off the green table-covering, at the end of their meal, he exclaimed, in the words of horace- "diffugere nives: redeunt jam gramina campis." at another time he made one of a party of oxonians, amongst whom was a gentleman of great rotundity of person, on which account he had acquired the _soubriquet_ of 'heavy-a--se;' and he was withal of very _somniferous_ habits, frequently dozing in the midst of a conversation that would have made the very glasses tingle with delight. he had fallen fast asleep during the time a mirth-moving subject was recited by one of the party, but woke up just at the close, when all save himself were "shaking fat sides," and on his begging to know the subject of their laughter, heber let fly at him in pure horatian- "exsomnis stupet evias." the mirth-loving dr. barnard, late provost of eton, was cotemporary, at cambridge, with a worthy of the same school, who, then a student of st. john's college, used to frequent the same parties that barnard did, who was of king's. barnard used to taunt him with his stupidity; "and," said judge hardinge, who records the anecdote, "he one day half killed barnard with laughter, who had been taunting him, as usual, with the simplicity of the following excuse and remonstrance: you are always running your rigs upon me and calling me 'stupid fellow;' and it is very cruel, now, that's what it is; for you don't consider that _a broad-wheeled wagon went over my head when i was ten years old_." and here i must remark upon the injustice of persons reflecting upon the english universities, as their enemies often do, because every man who succeeds in getting a degree does not turn out a _porson_ or a _newton_. i knew one cantab, a caius man, to whom writing a letter to his friends was such an effort, that he used to get his medical attendant to give him an _ægrotat_ (put him on the sick list,) and, besides, keep his door sported for a week, till the momentous task was accomplished. and two oxonians were of late plucked at their divinity examination, because one being asked, "who was the _mediator_, between god and man?" answered, "_the archbishop of canterbury_." the other being questioned as to "why our saviour sat on the right hand of god?" replied, "_because the holy ghost sat on the left_." compliment to the men of exeter college, oxon. "the men of exeter college, oxon," says fuller, in his church history, "consisted chiefly of cornish and devonshire men, the gentry of which latter, queen elizabeth used to say, are courtiers by birth. and as these western men do bear away the bell for might and sleight in wrestling, so the scholars here have always acquitted themselves with credit in _palæstra literaria_." and writing of this society reminds me that his grace of wellington is a living example of the fact, that it does not require great learning to make a great general; nor is great learning always necessary to complete the character of the head of a college. the late rector of exeter college, dr. cole, raised that society, by his prudent management, from the very _reduced_ rank in which he found it amongst the other foundations of oxford, to a flourishing and high reputation for good scholarship. yet he is said one day to have complimented a student at collections, by saying, after the gentleman had construed his portion of sophocles, "sir, you have construed your _livy_ very well." he nevertheless redeemed his credit by one day _posing_ a student, during his divinity examination, with asking him, in vain, "_what christmas day was?_" another don of the same college, once asking a student of the society some divinity question, which he was equally at a loss for an answer, he exclaimed--"good god, sir, you the son of a clergyman, and not answer such a question as that?" aristotle was of opinion that knowledge _could only be acquired_, but our tutor seems to have thought, like the opponents of aristotle, that a _son of a parson_ ought to be _born to it_. another oxonian was posed, whom i knew, yet was by no means deficient in scholastic learning, and withal a great wag. he was asked, at the divinity examination, how many sacraments there were. this happened at the time that the _catholic question_ was in the high road to the house of lords, under the auspices of the duke of wellington, and he had been _cramming_ his _upper story_ with abundance of _catholic faith_ from the writings of _faber_, _gandolphy_, and the _bishops of durham and exeter_. "how many sacraments are there, sir?" repeated the examiner (of course referring to the church of england.) the student _paused on_, and the question was repeated a second time; "why--a--suppose--we--a--say half a dozen," was the reply. it is needless to add he was _plucked_. the following lapsus grammaticæ is attributed to a certain d.d. of exeter, who, having undertaken to lionize one of the foreign princes of the many that accompanied the late king and the sovereigns of russia and prussia to oxford, in 1814, a difficulty arose between them as to their medium of communication; the prince being ignorant of the english language, and the doctor no less so with respect to modern foreign languages. in this dilemma the latter proposed an interchange of ideas by means of the fingers, in the following unique address:--"intelligisne colloquium _cum digitalibus tuis?_" it would be somewhat awkward for certain alumni if his grace of wellington should issue an imperative decree, as chancellor, that the latin tongue be used, (as wood says, in his annals, the famous archbishop bancroft did, on being raised to the dignity of chancellor of oxford in 1608,) "by the students in their halls and colleges, whereby," said his grace, "the young as well as the old may be inured to a ready and familiar delivery of their minds in that language, whereof there was now so much use both in studies and common conversation; for it was now observed (and so it may in these present times, adds wood,) that it was a great blemish to the learned men of this nation, that they being complete in all good knowledge, yet they were not able promptly and aptly to express themselves in latin, but with hesitation and circumlocution, which ariseth only from disuse." effect of habit. dr. fothergill, when provost of queen's college, oxford, was a singular as well as a learned man, and would not have been seen abroad minus his wig and gown for a dukedom. one night a fire broke out in the lodge, which spread with such rapidity, that it was with difficulty mrs. f. and family escaped the fury of the flames; and this she no sooner did than, naturally enough, the question was, "where is the doctor?" no doctor was to be found; and the cry was he had probably perished in the flames. all was bustle, and consternation, and tears, till suddenly, to the delight of all, he emerged from the burning pile, full-dressed, as usual, his wig something the worse for being nearly 'done to a turn;' but he deemed it indecorous for him to appear otherwise, though he stayed to _robe_ at the risk of his life. * * * * * the concussion. the living cambridge worthy, william sydney walker, m.a. (who at the age of sixteen wrote the successful tragedy of wallace, and recently vacated his fellowship at trinity college "for conscience-sake,") walking hastily round the corner of a street in cambridge, in his peculiarly near-sighted _sidling_ hasty manner, he suddenly came in contact with the _blind_ muffin-man who daily perambulates the town. the concussion threw both upon their haunches. "don't you _see_ i'm blind?" exclaimed the muffin-man, in great wrath. "how should i," rejoined the learned wag, "when i'm blind too." * * * * * comic picture of the election of a provost of king's college, cambridge. upon the death of a provost of king's college, cambridge, the fellows are obliged, according to their statutes, to be shut up in their celebrated chapel till they have agreed upon the election of a successor, a custom not unlike that to which the cardinals are subject at rome, upon the death of a pope, where not uncommonly some half dozen are brought out dead before an election takes place. "the following is a comic picture of an election," says judge hardinge, in nichols's illustrations of literature, from the pen of daniel wray, esq. dated from _cambridge_, the 19th of january, 1743. "the election of a provost of king's is over--_dr. george_ is the man. the fellows went into chapel on monday, before noon in the morning, as the statute directs. after prayers and sacrament, they began to vote:--22 for _george_; 16 for _thackery_; 10 for _chapman_. thus they continued, scrutinizing and walking about, eating and sleeping; some of them smoking. still the same numbers for each candidate, till yesterday about noon (for they held that in the forty-eight hours allowed for the election no adjournment could be made,) when the tories, _chapman's_ friends, refusing absolutely to concur with either of the other parties, _thackery's_ votes went over to _george_ by agreement, and he was declared. a friend of mine, a curious fellow, tells me he took a survey of his brothers at two o'clock in the morning, and that never was a more curious or a more diverting spectacle: some wrapped in blankets, erect in their stalls like mummies; others asleep on cushions, like so many _gothic_ tombs. here a red cap over a wig, there a face lost in the cape of a rug; one blowing a chafing-dish with a surplice-sleeve; another warming a little negus, or sipping _coke upon littleton_, _i. e._ tent and brandy. thus did they combat the cold of that frosty night, which has not killed any one of them, to my infinite surprise." one of the fellows of king's engaged in this election was mr. c. pratt, afterwards lord high chancellor of england, and father of the present marquis of camden, who, writing to his amiable and learned friend and brother etonian and kingsman, dr. sneyd davies, archdeacon of derby, &c. in the january of the above year, says, "dear sneyd we are all busy in the choice of a provost. _george_ and _thackery_ are the candidates. _george_ has all the power and weight of the court interest, but i am for _thackery_, so that i am at _present a patriot_, and vehemently declaim against all unstatutable influence. the college are so divided, that your friends the _tories_ may turn the balance if they will; but, if they should either absent themselves or nominate a third man, _chapman_, for example, _thackery_ will be discomfited. why are not _you_ a doctor? we could choose you against all opposition. however, i insist upon it, that you shall qualify yourself against the next vacancy, for since you will not come to _london_, and wear lawn sleeves, you may stay where you are, and be provost,"--which he did not live to be, though he did take his d.d. * * * * * sir, dominus, magistri, sir greene. a writer in an early volume of the gentleman's magazine has stated, that "the christian name is never used in the university with the addition of _sir_, but the surname only." cole says, in reply, "this is certainly so at cambridge. yet when bachelors of arts get into the country, it is quite the reverse; for then, whether curates, chaplains, vicars, or rectors, they are constantly styled _sir_, or _dominus_, prefixed to both their names, to distinguish them from masters of arts, or _magistri_. this may be seen," he says, "in innumerable instances in the lists of incumbents in new court, &c." and, he adds, addressing himself to that illustrious character, _sylvanus urban_, "i could produce a thousand others from the wills, institutions, &c. in the diocese of ely, throughout the whole reign of henry viii. and for many years after, till the title was abandoned, and are never called sir evans, or sir martext, as in the university they would be, according to your correspondent's opinion, but invariably sir hugh evans and sir oliver martext, &c. the subject," adds this pleasant chronicler, "'seria ludo,' puts me in mind of a very pleasant story, much talked of when i was first admitted of the university, which i know to be fact, as i since heard mr. greene, the dean of salisbury, mention it. the dean was at that time only bachelor of arts, and fellow of bene't college, where bishop mawson was master, and then, i think, bishop of llandaff, who, being one day at court, seeing mr. greene come into the drawing-room, immediately accosted him, pretty loud, in this manner, _how do you do, sir greene? when did you leave college, sir greene?_ mr. greene was quite astonished, and the company present much more so, as not comprehending the meaning of the salutation or title, till mr. greene explained it, and also informed them," observes cole, with his accustomed fulness of information, "of the worthy good bishop's absences." * * * * * husbands may beat their wives. fuller relates in his abel redivivus, that the celebrated president of corpus christi college, oxford, dr. john rainolds, the contemporary of jewel and usher, had a controversy with one william gager, a student of christ-church, who contended for the lawfulness of stage-plays; and the same gager, he adds, maintained, _horresco referens!_ in a public act in the university, that "it was lawful for husbands to beat their wives." * * * * * another attack on the ladies is contained in antony wood's "angry account" of the alterations made in merton college, of which he was a fellow, during the wardenship of sir thomas clayton, whose lady, says wood, "did put the college to unnecessary charges and very frivolous expenses, among which were a very large looking-glass, for her to see her ugly face, and body to the middle, * * * * * which was brought in hilary terme, 1674, and cost, as the bursar told me, above 10_£._; a bedstead and bedding, worth 40_£._, must also be bought, because the former bedstead and bedding was too short for him (he being a tall man,) so perhaps when a _short_ warden comes, a short bed must be bought." there were also other extraordinary doings at merton. when the vandals of parliamentary visiters, in cromwell's time, perpetrated their spoliations at oxford, one of them, sir nathaniel brent, says wood, actually "took down the rich hangings at the altar of the chapel, and ornamented his bedchamber with them." * * * * * digging your graves with your teeth. the late vice-master of trinity college, cambridge, the rev. william hodson, b.d., and the late regius professor of hebrew, the rev. william collier, b.d., who had also been tutor of trinity college, were both skilled in the science of music, and constant visiters at the quartett parties of mr. sharp, of green street, cambridge, organist of st. john's college. the former happened one evening to enter mr. sharp's _sanctum sanctorum_, rather later than usual, and found the two latter just in the act of discussing a brace of roast ducks, with a bowl of punch in the background. he was pressed to join them. "no, no, gentlemen," was his reply, "give me a _glass of water and a crust_. you know not what you are doing. you are _digging your graves with your teeth_." both gentlemen, however, out-lived him. * * * * * dr. torkington's gratitude to his horse. the late master of clare hall, cambridge, dr. torkington, was one evening stopped by a footpad or pads, in the neighbourhood of cambridge, when riding at an humble pace on his old rosinante, which had borne him through many a long year. both horse and master were startled by the awful tones in which the words, "stand, and deliver!" were uttered, to say nothing of the flourish of a shillelah, or something worse, and an unsuccessful attempt to _grab_ the rein. the horse, declining acquiescence, set off at a good round pace, and thus saved his master; an act for which the old doctor was so grateful, that he never suffered it to be rode again, but had it placed in a paddock, facing his lodge, on the banks of the cam, where, with a plentiful supply of food, and his own daily attentions, it lingered out the remnant of life, and "liv'd at home at ease." * * * * * say john sharp is a rogue. at the time the celebrated archbishop sharp was at oxford, it was the custom in that university, as likewise in cambridge, for students to have a _chum_ or companion, who not only shared the sitting-room with each other, but the bed also; and a writer, speaking of the university of cambridge, says, one of the colleges was at one period so full, that when writing a letter, the students were obliged to hold their hand over it, to prevent its contents being seen. archbishop sharp, when an oxford scholar, was awoke in the night by his _chum_ lying by his side, who told him he had just dreamed a most extraordinary dream; which was, that he (sharp) would be an archbishop of york. after some time, he again awoke him, and said he had dreamt the same, and was well assured he would arrive at that dignity. sharp, extremely angry at being thus disturbed, told him if he awoke him any more, he would send him out of bed. however, his chum, again dreaming the same, ventured to awake him; on which sharp became much enraged; but his bed-fellow telling him, if he had again the same dream he would not annoy him any more, if he would faithfully promise him, should he ever become archbishop, to give him a good rectory, which he named. "well, well," said sharp, "you silly fellow, go to sleep; and if your dream, which is very unlikely, should come true, i promise you the living." "by that time," said his chum, "you will have forgot me and your promise." "no, no," says sharp, "that i shall not; but, if i do not remember you, and refuse you the living, then say _john sharp is a rogue_." after dr. sharp had been archbishop some time, his old friend (his chum) applied to him (on the said rectory being vacant,) and, after much difficulty, got admitted to his presence, having been informed by the servant, that the archbishop was particularly engaged with a gentleman relative to the same rectory for which he was going to apply. the archbishop was told there was a clergyman who was extremely importunate to see him, and would take no denial. his grace, extremely angry, ordered him to be admitted, and requested to know why he had so rudely almost forced himself into his presence. "i come," says he, "my lord, to claim an old promise, the rectory of ----." "i do not remember, sir, ever to have seen you before; how, then, could i have promised you the rectory, which i have just presented to this gentleman?" "then," says his old chum, "_john sharp is a rogue_!" the circumstance was instantly roused in the mind of the archbishop, and the result was, he provided liberally for his dreaming chum in the church. * * * * * "i said as how you'd see." "in the year 1821," says parke, in his musical memoirs, "i occasionally dined with a pupil of mine, mr. knight, who had lately left college. this young man (who played the most difficult pieces on the flute admirably) and his brother cantabs, when they met, were very fond of relating the wild tricks for which the students of the university of cambridge are celebrated. the following relation of one will convey some idea," he says, "of their general eccentricity:--a farmer, who resided at a considerable distance from cambridge, but who had, nevertheless, heard of the excesses committed by the students, having particular business in the before-mentioned seat of the muses, together with a strong aversion to entering it, took his seat on the roof of the coach, and, being engrossed with an idea of danger, said to the coachman, who was a man of few words, 'i'ze been towld that the young gentlemen at cambridge be wild chaps.' 'you'll see,' replied the coachman; 'and,' added the farmer, 'that it be hardly safe to be among 'em.' 'you'll see,' again replied the coachman. during the journey the farmer put several other interrogatories to the coachman, which was answered, as before, with 'you'll see!' when they had arrived in the high street of cambridge, mr. knight had a party of young men at his lodgings, who were sitting in the first floor, with the windows all open, and a large china bowl full of punch before them, which they had just broached. the noise made by their singing and laughing, attracting the notice and exciting the fears of the farmer, he again, addressing his taciturn friend, the coachman, (whilst passing close under the window,) said with great anxiety, 'are we all safe, think ye?' when, before the master of the whip had time to utter his favourite monosyllables, 'you'll see,' bang came down, on the top of the coach, bowl, punch, glasses, &c. to the amazement and terror of the farmer, who was steeped in his own favourite potation. 'there,' said coachee (who had escaped a wetting,) 'i said as how you'd see!'" * * * * * i now leave you to make as much noise as you please. when gray produced his famous ode for the installation of his patron, the late duke of grafton, a production, it is observed, which would have been more admired, had it "not been surpassed by his two masterpieces, the bard, and the progress of poetry," being possessed of a very accurate taste for music, which he had formed on the italian model, he weighed every note of the composer's music, (the learned cambridge professor, dr. randall,) with the most critical exactness, and kept the composer in attendance upon him, says dyer, in his supplement, for three months. gray was, indeed, a thorough disciple of the italian school of music, whilst the professor was an ardent admirer of the sublime compositions of handel, whose _noise_, it is stated, gray could not bear; but after the professor had implicitly followed his views till he came to the chorus, gray exclaimed, "i have now done, and leave you to make as much noise as you please." this fine composition is still in ms. in the hands of the doctor's son, mr. edward randall, of the town of cambridge. * * * * * the mad peter-house poet. gray was not the only modern poet of deserved celebrity, which peter-house had the honour to foster in her cloisters. a late fellow of that society, named _kendal_, "a person of a wild and deranged state of mind," says dyer, but, it must be confessed, with much method in his madness, during his residence in cambridge, "occasionally poured out, extemporaneously, the most beautiful effusions," but the paucity of the number preserved have almost left him without a name, though meriting a niche in fame's temple. i therefore venture to repeat the following, with his name, that his genius may live with it:- the town have found out different ways, to praise its different lears: to barry it gives loud huzzas, to garrick only tears. he afterwards added this exquisite effusion:- a king,--aye, every inch a king,- such barry doth appear; but garrick's quite another thing, he's every inch king lear. * * * * * the grace cup of pembroke-hall, cambridge. an ancient cup of silver gilt is preserved by this society, which was given to them by the noble foundress of their college, lady mary de st. paul, daughter of guy de castillon, earl of st. paul, in france, and widow of audomar de valentia, earl of pembroke, who is said to have been killed in a tournament, held in france, in 1323, in honour of their wedding day,--an accident, says fuller, by which she was "a maid, a wife, and a widow, in one day." lysons in his second volume, has given an engraved delineation of this venerable goblet; the foot of which, says cole, in the forty-second volume of his mss. "stands on a large circle, whose upper rim is neatly ornamented with small _fleurs de lis_, in open work, and looks very like an ancient coronet." on a large rim, about the middle of the cup, is a very ancient embossed inscription; which, says the same authority, in 1773, "not a soul in the college could read, and the tradition of it was forgotten;" but he supposes it to run:- _sayn denis' yt es me dere for his lof drenk and mak gud cher._ the other inscription is short, and has an m. and v. above the circle; "which," adds cole, "i take to mean, _god help at need mary de valentia_." at the bottom of the inside of the cup is an embossed letter m. this he does not comprehend; but says it may possibly stand for _mementote_. "dining in pembroke college hall, new year's day, 1773," he adds, "the grace cup of silver gilt, the founder's gift to her college, was produced at the close of dinner, when, being full of sweet wine, the old custom is here, as in most other colleges, for the master, at the head of the long table, to rise, and, standing on his feet, to drink, _in piam memoriam_ (_fundatricis_,) to his neighbour on his right hand, and, who is also to be standing. when the master has drunk, he delivers the cup to him he drank to, and sits down; and the other, having the cup, drinks to his opposite neighbour, who stands up while the other is drinking; and thus alternately till it has gone quite through the company, two always standing at a time. it is of no large capacity, and is often replenished." this is not unlike the tertiavit of the mertonians, as they call it (says mr. pointer,) from a barbarous latin word derived from _tertius_, because there are always three standing at a time. the custom, he says, is a loyal one, and arises from their drinking the king and queen's health standing (at dinner) on some extraordinary days (called gaudies, from the latin word _gaudeo_, to rejoice,) to show their loyalty. there are always three standing at a time the first not sitting down again till the second has drank to a third man. the same loyal custom, under different forms, prevails in all colleges in both universities. at the inns of court, also, in london, the king's health is drunk every term, on what is called _grand day_, all members present, big-wig and student, having filled "a bumper of sparkling wine," rise simultaneously, and drink "the king," _supernaculum_, of course. * * * * * a more capacious bowl than the foregoing is in the possession of the society of jesus college, oxford, says chalmers, the gift of the hospitable sir watkins williams wynne, grandfather to the present baronet. it will contain ten gallons, and weighs 278 ounces: how or when it is used, this deponent sayeth not. queen's college, oxon, says mr. pointer, has its-horn of diversion, so called because it never fails to afford _funnery_. it is kept in the buttery, is occasionally presented to persons to drink out of and is so contrived, that by lifting it up to the mouth too hastily, the air gets in and suddenly forces too great a quantity of the liquid, as if thrown into the drinker's face, to his great surprise and the delight of the standers by. _multa cadunt inter calicem supremaque labra._ another bibulous relique was the famous chalice, found in one of the hands of the founder of merton college, oxford, the celebrated walter de merton, bishop of rochester and chancellor of england, upon the opening of his grave in 1659, says wood, on the authority of mr. leonard yate, fellow of merton. it held more than a quarter of a pint; and the warden and fellows caused it to be sent to the college, to be put into their _cista jocalium_; but the fellows, in their zeal, sometimes drinking out of it, "this, then, so valued relic was broken and destroyed." * * * * * a laudable and christian custom, in merton college, says pointer, in his _oxoniensis academia_, &c. "is their meeting together in the hall on christmas eve, and other solemn times, to sing a psalm, and drink a _grace cup_ to one another, (called _poculum charitatis_) wishing one another health and happiness. these _grace cups_," he adds, "they drink to one another every day after dinner and supper, wishing one another peace and good neighbourhood." this conclusion reminds us of the following anecdote:-a learned cambridge mathematician, now holding a distinguished post at the naval college, portsmouth, after discussing one day, with a party of johnians, the propriety of the _dies festæ_, _solar_, _siderial_, &c., drily observed, putting a bumper to his lips, "i think we should have _jovial days_ as well." every college in both universities has the next best thing to it,-their feast days, "_in piam memoriam_" of their several founders, most of whom being persons of _taste_, left certain annual sums wherewith to "pay the piper." besides _minor_ feast-days, every society, both at oxford and cambridge, hold its yearly commemoration. there is always prayers and a sermon on this day, and the lesson is taken from eccl. xliv. "let us now praise famous men," &c. mr. pointer says, that at magdalen college, oxford, it is "a custom on all commemoration days to have the bells rung in a confused manner, and without any order, it being the primitive way of ringing." the same writer states that there is a musical may-day commemoration, annually celebrated by this society, which consists of a concert of music on the top of the tower, in honour of its founder, henry vii. it was originally a mass, but since the reformation, it has been "a merry concert of both vocal and instrumental music, consisting of several merry ketches, and lasts almost two hours (beginning as early as four o'clock in the morning,) and is concluded with ringing the bells." the performers have a breakfast for their pains. they have likewise singing early on christmas morning. the custom is similar to one observed at manheim, in germany, and throughout the palatinate. whoever was the author of the following admirable production, he was certainly not [greek: nous]-less, and it will "hardly be read with _dry lips_, or _mouths_ that do not water," says the author of the _gradus ad cant_. ode on a college feast day. i. hark! heard ye not yon footsteps dread, that shook the hall with thund'ring tread? with eager haste the fellows pass'd, each, intent on direful work, high lifts his mighty blade, and points his deadly fork. ii. but, hark! the portals sound, and pacing forth, with steps, alas! too slow, the college gypts, of high illustrious worth, with all the dishes, in long order go. in the midst a form divine, appears the fam'd sir-loin; and soon, with plums and glory crown'd almighty pudding sheds its sweets around. heard ye the din of dinner bray? knife to fork, and fork to knife, unnumber'd heroes, in the glorious strife, through fish, flesh, pies, and puddings, cut their destin'd way. iii. see beneath the mighty blade, gor'd with many a ghastly wound, low the famed sir-loin is laid, and sinks in many a gulf profound. arise, arise, ye sons of glory, pies and puddings stand before ye; see the ghost of hungry bellies, points at yonder stand of jellies; while such dainties are beside ye, snatch the goods the gods provide ye; mighty rulers of this state, snatch before it is too late; for, swift as thought, the puddings, jellies, pies, contract their giant bulks, and shrink to pigmy size. iv. from the table now retreating, all around the fire they meet, and, with wine, the sons of eating, crown at length the mighty treat: triumphant plenty's rosy traces sparkle in their jolly faces; and mirth and cheerfulness are seen in each countenance serene. fill high the sparkling glass, and drink the accustomed toast; drink deep, ye mighty host, and let the bottle pass. begin, begin the jovial strain; fill, fill the mystic bowl; and drink, and drink, and drink again; for drinking fires the soul. but soon, too soon, with one accord they reel; each on his seat begins to nod; all conquering bacchus' pow'r they feel, and pour libations to the jolly god. at length, with dinner, and with wine oppress'd, down in their chairs they sink, and give themselves to rest. * * * * * sir robert walpole at cambridge. sir robert walpole, the celebrated minister, was bred at eton and king's college, cambridge. at the first he raised great expectations as a boy, and when the master was told that st. john, afterwards lord bolingbroke, had with others, his scholars, distinguished themselves for their eloquence, in the house of commons, "i am impatient to hear that walpole has spoken," was his observation; "for i feel convinced he will be a good orator." at king's college his career was near being cut short by an attack of the small-pox. he was then known as a fierce _whig_, and his physicians were _tories_, one of whom, dr. brady, said, "we must take care to save this young man, or we shall be accused of having purposely neglected him, because he is so violent a whig." after he was restored, his spirit and disposition so pleased the same physician, that he added, "this singular escape seems to be a sure prediction that he is reserved for important purposes," which walpole remembered with complacency. * * * * * dr. lamb, the present master of corpus christi, cambridge, in his edition of master's history of that college, gives the following copy of a bill, in the handwriting of dr. john jegon, a former master, which may be taken as a specimen of a college dinner at the end of the sixteenth century:-"visitors' feast, august 6, 1597, eliz. 39." "imprimis, butter and eggs xii_d._ "linge xii_d._ "rootes buttered ii_d._ "a leg of mutton xii_d._ "a poulte iii_d._ "a pike xviii_d._ "buttered maydes iiii_d._ "soles xii_d._ "hartichockes vi_d._ "roast [b]eef viii_d._ "shrimps vi_d._ "perches vi_d._ "skaite vi_d._ "custards xii_d._ "wine and sugar xx_d._ "condiments, vinegar, pepper iii_d._ "money to the visitors vi_s._ viii_d._ "money to scholars and officers, cooks, butler, register, trinitiehall school iiii_s._ viii_d._ "item, exceedings of the schollers xx_d._ ------------------- summa, xxiiii_s._ x_d._ ------------------- "j. jegon." the same authority gives the following curious item as occurring in 1620, during the mastership of the successor of dr. jegon, dr. samuel walsall, who was elected in 1618, under the head of an account of the wine, &c., consumed at a college audit. _l._ _s._ _d._ "imp. tuesday night, a pottle of claret and a qt. of sacke 0 2 6 "it. wednesday, jan. 31, a pound of sugar and a pound of carriways 0 2 11 "it. three ounces of tobacco 0 4 6 "it. halfe an hundred apples and thirtie 0 1 6 "it. a pottle of claret and a quart of sacke, wednesday dinner 0 2 6 "it. two dousen of tobacco pipes 0 0 6 "it. thursday dinner, two pottles of sacke and three pottles and a quart of claret 0 9 4 "it. thursday supp. a pottle of sacke and three pottles of claret 0 6 4 "it. satterday diner, a pottle of claret and a quart 0 2 0 -------------- "sum. tot. _l._ 1 14 7 --------------"hence it appears," observes dr. l., "sack was 1_s._ 2_d._ a quart, claret 8_d._, and tobacco 1_s._ 6_d._ an ounce. that is, an ounce of tobacco was worth exactly four pints and a half of claret." oxford, more than cambridge, observed, and still observes, many singular customs. amongst others recorded in mr. pointer's curious book, is the now obsolete and very ancient one at merton college, called the black-night. formerly the dean of the college kept the bachelor-fellows at disputations in the hall, sometimes till late at night, and then to give, them a black-night (as they called it;) the reason of which was this:--"among many other famous scholars of this college, there were two great logicians, the one _johannes duns scotus_, called _doctor subtilis,_ fellow of the college, and father of the sect of the realists, and his scholar _gulielmus occam,_ called _doctor invincibilis,_ of the same house, and father of the sect of the nomenalists; betwixt whom there falling out a hot dispute one disputation night, _scotus_ being the dean of the college, and _occam_ (a bachelor-fellow therein,) though the latter got the better on't, yet being but an inferior, at parting submitted himself, with the rest of the bachelors, to the dean in this form, _domine, quid faciernus?_ (_i. e._ sir, what is your pleasure?) as it were begging punishment for their boldness in arguing; to whom _scotus_ returned this answer, _ite et facite quid vultis_ (_i. e._ begone, and do as you please.) hereupon away they went and broke open the buttery and kitchen doors, and plundered all the provisions they could lay hands on; called all their companions out of their beds, and made a merry bout on't all night. this gave occasion for observing the same diversion several times afterwards, whenever the dean kept the bachelor-fellows at disputation till twelve o'clock at night. the last black-night was about 1686." * * * * * the force of imagination. a learned cantab, who was so _deaf_ as to be obliged to use an _ear trumpet,_ having taken his departure from trinity college, of which he was lately a fellow, mounted on his well-fed rosinante for the purpose of visiting a friend, fell in with an acquaintance by the way side, with whom he was induced to dine, and evening was setting in ere he pushed forward for his original destination. warm with t. b., he had not gone far ere he let fall the reins on the neck of his pegasus, which took its own course till he was suddenly roused by its coming to a stand-still where four cross roads met, in a part of the country to which he was an utter stranger. what added to the dilemma, the _direction-post_ had been demolished. he luckily espied an old farmer jogging homeward from market. "hallo! my man, can you tell me the way to ----?" "yes, to be sure i can. you must go down _hin-hinder_ lane, and cross _yin-yinder_ common on the left, then you'll see a _hol_ and a _pightal_ and the old mills, and ----" "stop, stop, my good friend!" exclaimed our cantab; "you don't know i'm _deaf_," pulling his _ear-trumpet_ out of his pocket as he spoke: this the farmer no sooner got a glimpse of, than, taking it for a pistol or blunderbuss, and its owner for a highwayman, he clapped spurs to his horse, and galloped off at full speed, roaring out for mercy as our cantab bawled for him to stop, the _muzzle_ of his horse nosing the tail of the farmer's, till they came to an opening in a wood by the road side, through which the latter vanished, leaving the cantab _solus_, after a chase of some miles,--and upon inquiry at a cottage, he learnt he was still ten or twelve from the place of his destination, little short of the original distance he had to ride when he first started from cambridge in the morning. this anecdote reminds me of two oxonians of considerable celebrity, learning, and singular manners. one was the late amiable organist of dulwich college the rev. onias linley, son of mr. linley, of drury-lane and musical celebrity: he was consequently brother of mrs. r. b. sheridan. he was bred at winchester and new college, and was remarkable, when a minor canon at norwich, in norfolk, for his absent habits, and the ridiculous light in which they placed him, and for carrying a huge snuff-box in one hand, which he constantly kept twirling with the other between his finger and thumb. he once attended a ball at the public assembly rooms, when, having occasion to visit the temple of cloacina, he unconsciously walked back into the midst of the crowd of beauties present, with a certain _coverlid_ under his arm, in lieu of his opera hat; nor was he aware of the exchange he had made till a friend gave him a _gentle_ hint. he occasionally rode a short distance into the country to do duty on a sunday, when he used compassionately to relieve his steed by alighting and walking on, with the horse following, and the bridle on his arm. upon such occasions he frequently fell into what is called "a brown study," and arrived at his destination dragging the bridle after him, _minus_ the horse, which had stopped by the way to crop grass. he was one day met on the road so circumstanced, and reminded of the fact by a gentleman who knew him. "bless me," said he, with the most perfect composure, "the horse was with me when i sat out. i must go back to seek him." and back he went a mile or two, when he found his steed grazing by the way, bridled him afresh, and reached his church an hour later than usual, much to the chagrin of his congregation. the late dr. adams, one of the first who went out to demerara after the established clergy were appointed to stations and parishes in the west indies by authority, was a man of habits very similar to those of mr. linley, and very similar anecdotes are recorded of him, and his oddities are said to have caused some mirth to his sable followers. he died in about a year or two, much regretted notwithstanding. * * * * * the early poets bred in the halls of granta, "_semper--pauperimus esse_," were nearly all blest with none or a slender competence. but what they wanted in wealth was amply supplied in wit. spenser, lee, otway, ben johnson, and his son randolph, milton, cowley, dryden, prior, and kit smart, poets as they were, had fared but so so, had they lived by poësy only--and who ever dreamed of caring ought for _their_ posterity. spencer was matriculated a member of pembroke college, cambridge, the 20th of may, 1569, at the age of sixteen, at which early period he is supposed to have been under his "sweet fit of poesy," and soon after formed the design of his great poem, the _faery queene_, _stanzas_ of which, it is said, on very good authority, were lately discovered on the removal of some of the old wainscoting of the room in which he _kept_ in pembroke college. he took b.a. 1573, and m.a. 1576, without succeeding to fellowship, died _in want of bread_, 1599, and was buried in westminster abbey, according to his request, near chaucer. camden says of him- "anglica, te vivo, vixit plautisque poesis, nunc moritura, timet, te moriente, mori!" in the common-place-book of edward, earl of oxford and mortimer, preserved amongst the mss. of the british museum, is the memoranda:--"lord carteret told me, that when he was lord lieutenant of ireland, a man of the name of spenser, immediately descended from our illustrious poet, came to be examined before the lord chief justice, as a witness in a cause, and that he was so entirely ignorant of the english language, that they were forced to have an interpreter for him." but i have no intention to give my readers the _blues_. "nat. lee" was a trinity man, and was, as the folk say, "as poor as a church mouse" during his short life, four years of which he passed in bedlam. an envious scribe one day there saw him, and mocked his calamity by asking, "if it was not easy to write like a madman?" "no, sir," said he; "but it is very easy to write like a fool." otway was bred at st. john's college, cambridge. but though his tragedies are still received with "tears of approbation," he lived in penury, and died in extreme misery, choked, it is said, by a morsel of bread given him to relieve his hunger, the 14th of april, 1685. ben jonson, "rare ben," also "finished his education" at st. john's, nor did i ever tread the mazes of its pleasant walks, but imagination pictured him and his gifted contemporaries and successors, from the time of the minstrel of arcadia to the days of kirke white, in dalliance with the nine in ev'ry nook, a conning nature from her own sweet book. but ben, though "the greatest dramatic poet of his age," after he left cambridge, "worked with a trowel at the building of lincoln's inn," and died poor in everything but fame, in 1637. ben, however, contrived to keep nearly as many "jovial days" in a year, as there are saints in the roman calendar, and at a set time held a club at the same devil tavern, near temple-bar, to which the celebrated cambridge professor, and reformer of our church music, dr. maurice greene, adjourned his concert upon his quarrel with handel, which made the latter say of him with his natural dry humour, "_toctor creene was gone to de tavil_." there ben and his _boon_ companions were still extant, when tom randolph (author of "the muses' looking-glass," &c.,) a student of trinity college, cambridge, had ventured on a visit to london, where, it is said, he stayed so long, that he had already had a _parley with his empty purse_, when their fame made him long to see ben and his associates. he accordingly, as handel would have said, _vent to de tavil_, at their accustomed time of meeting; but being unknown to them, and without money, he was peeping into the room where they sat, when he was espied by ben, who seeing him in a _scholar's thread-bare habit_, cried out "_john bo-peep_, come in." he entered accordingly, and they, not knowing the wit of their guest, began to rhyme upon the meanness of his clothes, asking him if he could not make a verse, and, withal, to call for his quart of sack. there being but four, he thus addressed them:- "i, john bo-peep, to you four sheep, with each one his good fleece, if that you are willing to give me five shilling, 'tis fifteen pence a-piece." "by jesus," exclaimed ben (his usual oath,) "i believe this is my son randolph!" which being confessed, he was kindly entertained, and ben ever after called him his son, and, on account of his learning, gaiety, and humour, and readiness of repartee, esteemed him equal to cartwright. he also grew in favour with the wits and poets of the metropolis, but was cut off, some say of intemperance, at the age of twenty-nine. his brother was a member of christ church, oxford, and printed his works in 1638. amongst the _memorabilia cantabrigiæ_ of milton is the fact, that his personal beauty obtained for him the _soubriquet_ of "the lady of the college;" and that he set a full value on his fine exterior, is evident from the imperfect greek lines, entitled, "_in effigie ejus sculptorem_," in warton's second edition of his poems. some have supposed he had himself in view, in his delineation of the person of adam. every body knows that his "paradise lost" brought him and his posterity less than 20_l._: but every body does not know that there is a _latin_ translation of it, in twelve books, in the library of trinity college, cambridge, in ms., the work of one mr. power, a fellow of that society, who printed the first book in 1691, and completed the rest at the bermudas, where his difficulties had obliged him to fly, and from whence it was sent to dr. richard bentley, to publish and pay his debts with. however, in spite of his creditors, it still remains in ms. the writer obtained, says judge hardinge, alluding i suppose, to "the tempest of his mind and of his habits," the _soubriquet_ of the "_æolian exile_." there is also a bust of milton in the library of trinity college, and some of his juvenile poems, &c., in his own hand-writing. cowley was bread at trinity college. his bust, too, graces its library, and his portrait its hall. both these alumni, when students, wrote latin as well as english verses, and the curious in such matters, on reference to this work, will be amused by the difference of feeling with which their _alma mater_ inspired them. to cowley the _bowers of granta and the camus_ were the very seat of inspiration; milton thought no epithet too mean to express their charms: yet, says dyer, in his supplement, "it is difficult to conceive a more brilliant example of youthful talent than milton's latin poems of that period." though they "are not faultless, they render what was said of gray applicable to milton-'he never was a boy.'" his mulberry tree, more fortunate than either that of shakspeare, or the pear tree of his contemporary and patron, oliver cromwell, is still shown in the fellows' garden of christ college, and still "bears abundance in fruit-time," and near it is a drooping ash, planted by the present marquis of bute, when a student of christ college. * * * * * cromwell's pear-tree i saw cut down, from the window of my sitting-room, in jesus-lane, cambridge (which happened to overlook the fellows' garden of sidney college,) in march, 1833. the tree is said to have been planted by cromwell's own hand, when a student at sidney college, and, said the cambridge chronicle of the 11th of the above month, it seems not unlikely that the original stock was coeval with the protector. the tree consisted of five stems (at the time it was cut down,) which rose directly from the ground, and which had probably shot up after the main trunk had been accidentally or intentionally destroyed. four of these stems had been dead for some years, and the fifth was cut down, as stated above. "a section of it, at eight feet from the ground, had 103 consecutive rings, indicating as many years of growth for that part. if we add a few more for the growth of the portion still lower down, it brings us to a period within seventy years of the restoration; and it is by no means improbable that the original trunk may have been at least seventy or eighty years old before it was mutilated. the stumps of the five stems are still left standing, the longest being eight feet high; and it is intended to erect a rustic seat within the area they embrace." other memorials of cromwell at sidney college, are his bust, in the master's lodge, and his portrait in the library. the first was executed by the celebrated bernini, at the request of ferdinand, grand duke of tuscany, from a plaster impression of the face of cromwell, taken soon after his death. it was obtained by the late learned cambridge regius professor of botany, thomas martyn, b.d., during his stay in italy, and by him presented to the society of sidney college, of which he was a fellow. lord cork said it bore "the strongest character of _boldness_, _steadiness_, _sense_, _penetration_, and _pride_." the portrait is _unique_, drawn in crayons, by the celebrated cooper, and is said to be that from which he painted his famous miniatures of the protector. in the college register is a memorandum of cromwell's admission to the society, dated april 23, 1616, to which some one has added his character, in latin, in a different hand-writing, and very severe terms. * * * * * dryden confined to college walls. dryden, whom some have styled "the true father of english poetry," was fond of a _college life_, as especially "favourable to the habits of a student." he was bread at trinity college, cambridge, where he resided seven years, during which he is said never, like milton and others, to have "wooed the muses." what were his college habits is not known. the only notice of him at trinity (where his bust and portrait are preserved, the first in the library, the second in the hall,) whilst an undergraduate, is the following entry in the college register, made about two years after his admission:--"july 19, 1652. agreed, then, that dryden be put out of comons, for a fortnight at least, and that he goe not out of the college during the time aforesaid, excepting to sermons, without express leave from the master or vice-master (disobedience to whom was his fault,) and that, at the end of the fortnight, he read a confession of his crime in the hall at the dinner-time, at the three fellows' table." his contemporary, dennis the critic, seems to have been less fortunate at cambridge. the author of the "biographia dramatica" asserts that he was expelled from caius college, cambridge. which is denied by dr. kippis, in the "biographia britannica," and "when doctors disagree, who shall decide?" in this case a third doctor steps in for the purpose, in the person of the celebrated master of emmanuel college, dr. richard farmer, who, in a humorous letter, printed in the european magazine for 1794, says, on turning to the _gesta book_ of caius college, under the head, "sir dennis sent away," appears this entry: "march 4, 1680. at a meeting of the master and fellows, sir dennis mulcted 3_l._; his scholarship taken away, and he _sent out of the college_, for assaulting and wounding sir glenham with a sword." * * * * * prior laid out the walks of st. john's college, cambridge, as i have been told, where he was educated, and lived and died a fellow. after he became french ambassador, and was distinguished by his sovereign, he was urged to resign his fellowship. his reply was (probably not having much faith in the longevity of _princes' favours_,) "should i need it, it will always insure me _a bit of mutton and a clean shirt_!" but it ought also to be added, to his honour, that the celebrated thomas baker, the antiquary, having been ejected from his fellowship in the same college, for refusing to take the oaths to william and mary, prior generously allowed him the proceeds of his. the same cantab was once at the opera, where a conceited french composer had taken his seat adjoining, and being anxious that the audience should know he had written the music, he annoyed our poet by humming every air so audibly as to spoil the effect of the person's singing the part, one of the greatest _artistes_ of the day. thus annoyed, prior ventured to _hiss_ the singer. every body was astonished at the daring, he being a great and deserved favourite. the composer hummed again,--again prior hissed the singer, who, enraged at the circumstance, demanded "why he was subject to such indignity?" "i want that fellow to leave off humming," said prior, pointing to the composer, "that i may have the pleasure of hearing you sing, signor." * * * * * stung by a b. dr. thomas plume, a former archdeacon of colchester, was the munificent founder of the cambridge professorship of astronomy and experimental philosophy, which (as in the case of the late dr. edward daniel clarke and the present george pryme, esq. m.a. and m.p.) he was the first to fill; but he was not as fortunate as the former, to fill his chair with unparalleled success,--in fact, his lectures were not quite the fashion. he was smarting under this truth, when he one day met dr. pearce in the streets of cambridge, the master of jesus college, whom he addressed with, "doctor, they call my lectures plum-b-ian, which is very uncivil. i don't at all like it, dr. pearce." "i suppose the b. stung you," rejoined the latter. here we may not inappropriately introduce a trifle, hit off between dr. pearce and the woman who had the care of the temple gardens, when he was master there. it is a rule to keep them close shut during divine service on sundays; but the doctor being indisposed, and having no grounds attached to his residence save the church-yard, wished to seize the quiet hour for taking a little air and exercise. he accordingly rung the garden bell, and rachel made her appearance; but she flatly told him she should not let him in, as it was against the benchers' orders. "but i am the _master_ of the temple," said dr. p. "the more shame for you," said rachel, "you ought to set a better example;" and the doctor retired dead beat. * * * * * a nest of saxonists. queen's college, oxford, was called "_a nest of saxonists_" towards the close of the sixteenth century, when those learned antiquarians and saxonists, rawlinson and thwaites, flourished there. it is recorded of the latter, in nichols's bowyer, that he said, writing of the state of the college, "we want saxon lexicons. i have fifteen young students in that language, and but one _somner_ for them all." our cambridge gossip, cole, relates a pleasant mistake, (taken notice of by warton also in the first volume of his history of english poetry) of a brother cantab's having undertaken to translate the scriptures into welsh, and rendering _vials_ of wrath (meaning _vessels_--rom. v. 8) by the welsh word _crythan_, signifying _crowds_ or _fiddles_. "the greek word being [greek: phialas]," he adds, "it is probable he translated from the english only, where finding _vials_, he mistook it for _viols_." the translator was dr. morgan, who died bishop of st. asaph, in 1604. * * * * * minding the roast. lord nugent, _on-dit_, once called on an old college acquaintance, then a country divine of great simplicity of manners, at a time when his housekeeper was from home on some errand, and he had undertaken to _mind the roast_. this obliged him to invite his lordship into the kitchen, that he might avoid the fate of king alfred. our dame's stay exceeded the time anticipated, and the divine having _to bury a corpse_, he begged lord n. to take his turn at the spit, which he accordingly did, till the housekeeper arrived to relieve him. this anecdote reminds me of the following specimen of a college exercise, _by the younger bowyer, written at st. john's college, cambridge, november 29, 1719._ "ne quicquam sapit, qui sibi ipsi non sapit." a goodly parson once there was, to 's maid would chatter latin; (for that he was, i think, an ass, at least the rhyme comes pat in.) one day the house to prayers were met, with well united hearts; below, a goose was at the spit, to feast their grosser parts. the godly maid to prayers she came, if truth the legends say, to hear her master english lame, herself to sleep and pray. the maid, to hear her worthy master, left all alone her kitchen; hence happened much a worse disaster than if she'd let the bitch in. while each breast burns with pious flame, all hearts with ardours beat, the goose's breast did much the same with too malicious heat. the parson smelt the odours rise; to 's belly thoughts gave loose, and plainly seemed to sympathise with his twice-murdered goose. he knew full well self-preservation bids piety retire, just as the _salus_ of a nation lays obligation higher. he stopped, and thus held forth his _clerum_, while him the maid did stare at, _hoc faciendum; sed alterum non negligendum erat_. _parce tuum vatum sceleris damnare._ * * * * * tulip-time. writing of the death of a former master of magdalen college, "whose whole delight was horses, dogs, sporting, &c.," which, says cole, happened on the first of september, the legal day for partridge-shooting to begin, "it put me in mind of the late dr. walker, vice-master of trinity, a great florist (and founder of the botanical garden at cambridge,) who, when told of a brother florist's death, by shooting himself in the spring, immediately exclaimed, 'good god! is it possible? now, at the beginning of tulip-time!'" * * * * * the college bell. when dr. barrett, prebend of st. paul's, was a student at peter-house, cambridge, he happened to make one of a party of collegians, where it was proposed that each _gentleman_ should _toast_ his _favourite belle_; when it came to his turn, he facetiously gave "the _college-bell_!" * * * * * college fun. "previous to my attending cambridge," says henry angelo, in his reminiscences, "one of my scholars (whom i had taught at westminster school,) at trinity college, engaged an irish fencing-master, named fitzpatrick," more remarkable for his native humour than science, and when he had taken too much of the _cratur_, "was amusing to the collegians, who had engaged him merely to keep up their exercise." one day, during a bout, some wag placed a bottle of his favourite "mountain dew" (whisky) on the chimney-piece, which proved so attractive, "that as his sips increased, so did the numerous hits he received, till the first so far prevailed, aided by exertion and the heat of the weather, that he lay, _tandem_, to all appearance dead." to keep the fun up, he was stripped and laid out like a corpse, with a shroud on, a coffin close to him, and four candles placed on each side, ready to light on his recovery. this _jeu de plaisanterie_ might have been serious; "however, master _push_-carte took care not to push himself again into the same place." * * * * * the king of denmark at cambridge. when the late king of denmark was in england, in 1763, when he visited eton, &c., he is said to have made a brief sojourn at cambridge, where he was received with "all the honours," and took up his abode (as is usual for persons of his rank) in the lodge of the master of trinity. in his majesty's establishments for learned purposes, as well as throughout all germany, &c., no provision is made for lodging and otherwise providing for the comforts of students, as in the two english universities; and when he surveyed the principal _court_ of trinity, he is said to have had so little notion of an english university, that he asked "whether that court did not comprise the whole of the university of cambridge?" this royal anecdote reminds me that his present gracious majesty, william the fourth, announced his intention to visit cambridge. as in duty bound, upon his accession to the throne of his ancestors, a loyal congratulatory address was voted by the members of the university of cambridge in full senate. this was shortly afterwards presented to his majesty at st. james's palace by the then vice-chancellor, dr. george thackery, d.d., provost of king's college, at the head of a large body of the heads of colleges, and others, _en robe_. his majesty not only received it most graciously, but with that truly english expression that goes home to the bosom of every briton, told dr. thackery he "should shortly take pot-luck with him in cambridge." the term, too, is worthy of particular notice, since it expresses his majesty's kind consideration for the contents of the university chest, and the pockets of its members. oxford, it is well known, is still _smarting_ under the heavy charges incident upon the memorable visit of his late majesty, george the fourth, in 1814, with the emperor alexander and the king of prussia and their _suites_. it would be no drawback upon the popularity of princes if they did take "_pot-luck_" with their subjects oftener than they do. let there be no drawback upon hospitality, but let the "feast of reason and the flow of soul" suffice for the _costly banquet_. in olden times, our monarchs _took pot-luck_ both at oxford, cambridge, and elsewhere, without their subjects being the less loyal. queen elizabeth and james the first and second were frequent visitors at both those seats of learning. elizabeth, indeed, that flower of british monarchs, suffered no designing minister to shake her confidence in her people's loyalty. she did not confine her movements to the dull routine of two or three royal palaces,--her palace was her empire. she went about "doing good" by the light of her countenance. she, and not her _minister_, was the people's _idol_. i therefore come to the conclusion, that the expressed determination of his majesty, william the fourth, to take _pot-luck_ with his good people of the university of cambridge, is the dawn of a return of those wholesome practices of which we read in the works of our annalists, when "'twas merry in the hall, and their beards wagged all." wood relates, amongst other humorous incidents, that during queen elizabeth's second visit to oxford, in september, 1592, besides plays, &c., there was a disputation in law and physic, and, amongst many questions, was one,--"_whether the air, or meat, or drink, did most change a man?_" and a merry doctor of that faculty, named richard ratcliffe, lately fellow of merton college, but now principal of st. alban's hall, going about to produce the _negative_, showed forth a big, large body, a great fat belly, a side waist, all, as he said, so changed by _meat_ and _drink_, desiring to see any other so metamorphosed by the _air_. but it was concluded (by the moderator) in the affirmative, that _air_ had the greater power of change. one of the questions (the next day) was,--"_whether it be lawful to dissemble in the cause of religion?_" written thus, says gutch, "non est dissimulandum in causa religionis;" "which being looked upon as a nice question," continues wood, "caused much attention from the courtly auditory. one argument, more witty than solid, that was urged by one of the opponents, was, 'it is lawful to dispute of religion therefore 'tis lawful to dissemble;' and so going on, said, 'i myself now do that which is lawful, but i do now dissemble; ergo, it is lawful to dissemble.' (id quod nunc ego, de rebus divinis disputans, ego dissimulare; sed quod nunc ego, de rebus divinis disputam, ego dissimulare est licitum; at which her majesty and all the auditory were very merry.)" when queen elizabeth first visited cambridge, in the year 1564, she took up her residence at the lodge of the provost of king's college, which stood near the east end of king's chapel. we well remember the old pile and the solitary trees that branched beside; and much as we admire the splendid improvements to which they have given place, we could almost find it in our hearts to express regret at the removal of those landmarks of the topographist. the hall was her guard-chamber, the dining-room her presence-chamber, and the gallery and adjoining rooms her private apartments. her visit lasted five days, during which she was entertained with comedies, tragedies, orations, disputations, and other academical exercises. she personally visited every college, and is said to have been so pleased with the venerable, solemn, and scholastic appearance of pembroke hall, that she saluted it with the words- "o domus antiqua et religiosa!" * * * * * the first dissenter in england, according to the author of _historical anecdotes_, &c., was thomas cartwright, b.d., lady margaret's professor and fellow of trinity college. he and thomas preston (afterwards master of trinity hall,) says fuller, during queen elizabeth's visit at cambridge, in 1564, were appointed two of the four disputants in the philosophy-act before her majesty. "cartwright had dealt most with the muses; preston with the graces, adorning his learning with comely carriage, graceful gesture, and pleasing pronunciation. cartwright disputed like a _great_, preston like a _gentile_ scholar, being a handsome man; and the queen, upon a parity of deserts, always preferred properness of person in conferring her favours. hereupon, with her looks, words, and deeds she favoured preston, calling him _her scholler_, as appears by his epitaph in trinity hall chappell. 'thomas prestonæ, scholarem, 'quem dixit princeps elizabetha suum,' &c. insomuch," continues fuller, "that for his good disputing, and excellent acting, in the tragedy of _dido_, she bestowed on him a pension of 20 lib. a year; whilst cartwright received neither reward nor commendation, whereof he not only complained to his inward friends in trinity college, but also, after her majesty's neglect of him, began to wade into divers opinions against her ecclesiastical government." and thus, according to the authority first cited, he became _the first dissenter in england_, and was deprived, subsequently, as a matter of course, of both his fellowship and professorship. it was most probably for the entertainment of the royal elizabeth, that one thomas still, m.a., of christ's college, cambridge, afterwards bishop of bath and wells, composed and produced the first english play extant: a fact no cantab need blush at, _proh pudor_, though the plot is none of the sublimest. it was printed as early as 1575, with the following title: "a ryght pythy, pleasant, and merie comedie, entytuled gammer gurton's needle; played on the stage not long ago in christe's college, in cambridge, made by mr. s. master of arts. imprynted at london, in fleete streeate, beneth the conduit, at the signe of sainte john evangelist, by thomas colwell." though altogether of a comic cast, it was not deficient in genuine humour, and is a curious sample of the simplicity which prevailed in this country, in the early days of dramatic art. it is in metre, is spun out into five regular acts, and an awful piece it is, as may be seen by the following brief sketch of the plot. gammer gurton having lost her needle, a great hunt is made in search of it, and her boy is directed to blow the embers of an expiring fire, in order to light a candle to help the search. the witch of a cat has, in the meantime, got into the chimney, with her two fiery eyes. the boy cries, "it is the devil of a fire!" for when he puffs, it is out,--and when he does not, it is in. "stir it!" bawls gammer gurton. the boy does her bidding, and the _cat_ (the _fire_ as he imagines) flies forthwith amongst a pile of wood. "the house will be burnt, all hands to work!" roars the boy, and the cat is discovered by a priest (more cunning than the rest.) this ends the _episode_, with which the _main plot_ and catastrophe vie. gammer gurton, it seems, had, the day before, been mending her man hodge's breeches. now hodge, in some game of merriment, was to be punished, for some default, with three slaps on the breech, to be administered by the brawny hand of one of his fellow-bumpkins. to that end, his head is laid in gammer gurton's lap; the first slap is given, hodge bellows out with pain, and, oh! joyful announcement, on searching for the cause of his affliction, the needle is discovered, buried up to the eye in poor hodge's posterior portion. the needle is then extracted with becoming demonstrations, and the curtain falls. amongst other interesting matters associated with the memory of queen elizabeth (beside that of her having given cambridge that admirable body of statutes upon which all laws for their governance still continue to be framed,) are the following memoranda, extracted by dyer from baker's mss. in the public library of the university:-"the 26th daye of julie, 1578, the queene's majestie came in her progresse intended to norfolk, to audley end, at the town of waldren, accompanied by the lorde treasurer, high chancellor of the university of cambridge. the vice chancellor and masters of colleges thoughte meete and convenient for the dischardge of dutie, that the said vice-chancellor and hedds of coll. should shewe themselves of the courte, and welcome her grace into these quarters." about the end of his oration, the orator (mr. bridgewater of king's college) makes mention, that "mr. doctor howland, then vice-chancellor, maketh his three ordinarie curtesies, and then kneeling at her majesty's feete, presenting unto her-a newe testament in greek, of robert stephens's first printing, folio, bound in redd velvett, and lymmed with gold; the arms of england sett upon eche syde of the booke very faire; and on the thirde leafe of the booke, being faire and cleane paper, was also sett and painted in colours the arms of the universitie, with these writings following: regiæ majestati deditissimæ academiæ cantabrigiensis insignia (viz. quatuor leones cum bibl. &c.) also, with the booke, the vice-chancellor presented a pair of gloves, perfumed and garnished, with embroiderie and goldsmithe's wourke, pr. 60_s._ and these verses:-"semper una. "una quod es semper, quod semper es optima, princeps, quam bene conveniunt hæc duo verba tibi? quod pia, quod prudens, quod casta, innuba virgo semper es, hoc etiam semper es una modo. "et populum quod ames, populo quod amata vicissim semper es, hic constans semper et una manes, o utinam; quoniam sic semper es una, liceret una te nobis semper, eliza, frui?" since cambridge has the merit of producing the _first english play_, it is but justice here to add, that the scholars of christ church, oxford, invented moveable scenes. this merit is claimed for them by the oxford historians, and allowed by the historians of the stage, though they have not agreed of the exact period. we are informed, in leland's collectanea, that "the stage did vary three times in the acting of one tragedy." in other words, there were three scenes employed; but these, it is said by chalmers, in his history of oxford university, were the invention of inigo jones; and the exhibition, it appears, took place in the hall of christ church, in 1636, (the year wood places the invention in,) for the entertainment of the unfortunate charles the first and his queen, when, says our annalist, a comedy was performed for their amusement, entitled, "the passions calmed, or the settling of the floating," written by strode, the public orator, and moveable scenery introduced with suitable variations; and though there is pretty conclusive evidence that this was not the first time _moveable scenes_, &c. had been introduced, it is evident they had not come into general use, from the fact that, after the departure of the king and his _suite_, the dresses and scenery were sent to hampton court, at the express desire of the queen, but with a wish, suggested by the chancellor of oxford, the ill-fated archbishop laud, _that they might not come into the hands of the common players_, which was accordingly promised. leland thinks, however, that _moveable scenes_ were better managed, before this, at cambridge; and i know not, he says, whether the invention may not be carried back to the year 1583, when the celebrated polish prince, alesco, was at oxford, and for whose entertainment, says wood (who gives an interesting account of all the particulars of that famous oxford gaudy,) the tragedy of dido was acted in the hall of christ church, decorated with scenes illustrative of the play, and the exhibition of "the tempest, wherein it rained small comfits, rose-water, and new artificial snow, was very strange to the beholders." but other authorities place the invention in 1605, when james the first and his court came to oxford, and was entertained in the hall of christ church, "with the latin comedy of vertumnus, written by dr. matthew gwinne, of st. john's college, oxford, and performed by the students of that house, without borrowing a single actor; and it was upon this occasion that the _humming_ of his majesty took place, referred to in my preface. in 1621, when james and his court happened to be at woodstock, the scholars of christ church enacted barton holyday's comedy of [greek: technogamia], or the marriage of the arts: but his majesty relished it so little, as to offer several times to withdraw, and was only prevented by some of his courtiers representing that his doing so would be a cruel disappointment. this incident gave rise to the well-known epigram- "at christ-church 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." * * * * * oxford and cambridge seemed rivals at this period. wood states, in his annals, that when king james was entertained at oxford, in 1605, divers cambridge scholars went thither out of novelty, to see and hear; and some that pretended to be wits made copies of verses on that solemnity, of which, he says, i have met with one that runs- to oxonforde the king is gone, with all his mighty peers, that hath in grace maintained us, these four or five long years. such a king he hath been, as the like was never seen: knights did ride by his side, evermore to be his guide: a thousand knights, and forty thousand knights, knights of forty pounds a year. which some attribute to one lake. this example, he adds, was followed by the oxonians, when james visited cambridge in 1614, and "many idle songs" were made by them upon the proceedings at cambridge, the most celebrated of which is the one entitled, "a grave poem, as it was presented in latin by divines and others, before his majesty at cambridge, by way of enterlude, stiled 'liber novus de adventu regis ad cantabrigiam,' faithfully done into english, with some liberal advantage, made rather to be sung than red, to the tune of 'bonny nell,'" which poem, says wood, may be seen in the works of the witty bishop corbet (by whom it was written,) "printed in 1647." but in so saying our annalist not only _lies_ under a mistake, but mr. gutch, his editor, has not detected it. the poem is not in the edition of 1647, but in that of 1672, which is the third, corrected and enlarged, and "printed by j. c. for _william crooke_, at the _green dragoon_, without temple bar;" as all may see who will consult the said editions, both extant in the library of the british museum. the poem is comprised in twenty-six stanzas, as follows:- it is not yet a fortnight, since lutetia entertained our prince, and wasted both a studied toy, as long as was the siege of _troy_: and spent herself for full five days in _speeches_, _exercise_, and _plays_. to trim the town, great care before was tane by th' lord _vice-chancellor_, both morn and eve he cleared the way, the streets he gravell'd thrice a day; one stripe of _march-dust_ for to see, no _provost_ would give more than he. their colledges were new be-painted, their founders eke were new be-sainted; nothing escaped, nor post, nor door, nor gete, nor rail, nor b----d, nor wh----: you could not know (oh, strange mishap!) whether you saw the _town_ or _map_. but the pure house of _emanuel_, would not be like proud _jesebel_, nor show herself before the king an hypocrite, or _painted_ thing: but that the ways might all prove fair, conceiv'd a tedious mile of prayer. upon the look'd-for seventh of _march_, out went the townsmen all in starch, both band and bead into the field, where one a speech could hardly wield; for needs he would begin his stile, the king being from him half a mile. they gave the king a piece of plate, which they hop'd never came too late; and cry'd, oh! look not in, great king, for there is in it just nothing: and so preferred with time and gate, a speech as empty as their plate. now, as the king came near the town, each one ran crying up and down, alas, poor _oxford_, thou'rt undone, for now the king's past _trompington_, and rides upon his brave grey dapple, seeing the top of _king's-colledge_ chappel. next rode his lordship on a nag, whose coat was blue, whose ruff was shag, and then began his reverence to speak most eloquent non-sense: see how (quoth he) most mighty prince, for very joy my horse doth wince. what cryes the town? what we? (said he) what cryes the university? what cryes the boyes? what every thing? behold, behold, yon comes the king: and every period he bedecks, with _en et ecce venit rex_. oft have i warn'd (quoth he) our dirt, that no silk stockings should be hurt; but we in vain strive to be fine, unless your grace's sun doth shine; and with the beams of your bright eye, you will be pleased our streets to dry. now come we to the wonderment, of _christendom_, and eke of _kent_, the _trinity_; which to surpass, doth deck her spokesman by a glass: who, clad in gay and silken weeds, thus opes his mouth, hark how he speeds. i wonder what your grace doth here, who had expected been 12 year, and this your son, fair _carolus_, that is so jacobissimus; there's none, of all your grace refuses, you are most welcome to our muses. although we have no bells to jingle, yet can we shew a fair quadrangle, which, though it ne'er was graced with king, yet sure it is a goodly thing: my warning's short, no more i'll say, soon you shall see a gallant play. but nothing was so much admired as were their plays, so well attired; nothing did win more praise of mine, than did their actors most divine: so did they drink their healths divinely, so did they skip and dance so finely. their plays had sundry grave wise factors, a perfect diocess of actors upon the stage; for i am sure that there was both bishop, pastor, curat: nor was this labour light or small, the charge of some was pastoral. our plays were certainly much worse, for they had a brown hobby-horse, which did present unto his grace a wondrous witty ambling pace: but we were chiefly spoyl'd by that which was six hours of _god knows what_. his lordship then was in a rage, his lordship lay upon the stage, his lordship cry'd, all would be marr'd: his lordship lov'd a-life the guard, and did invite those mighty men, to what think you? even to a _hen_. he knew he was to use their might to help to keep the door at night, and well bestow'd he though his hen, that they might tolebooth _oxford_ men. he thought it did become a lord to threaten with that bug-bear word. now pass we to the civil law, and eke the doctors of the spaw, who all perform'd their parts so well, sir _edward ratcliff_ bore the bell, who was, by the king's own appointment, to speak of spells and magic ointment. the doctors of the civil law, urged ne'er a reason worth a straw; and though they went in silk and satten, they, _thomson_-like clip'd the king's latine; but yet his grace did pardon then all treasons against _priscian_. here no man spoke aught to the point, but all they said was out of joint; just like the chappel ominous, in th' colledge called _god with us_, which truly doth stand much awry, just north and south, _yes verily_. philosophers did well their parts, which proved them masters of the arts; their moderator was no fool, he far from _cambridge_ kept a school: the country did such store afford, the proctors might not speak a word. but to conclude, the king was pleased, and of the court the town was eased: but oxford though (dear sister hark it) the king is gone but to new-market, and comes again ere it be long, then you may sing another song. the king being gone from _trinitie_, they make a scramble for degree; masters of all sorts and all ages, keepers, subsizers, lackayes, pages, who all did throng to come abroad, with _pray make me_ now, _good my lord_. they prest his lordship wondrous hard, his lordship then did want the guard, so did they throng him for the nonce, till he bless them all at once, and cry'd _hodiissime_: _omnes magistri estote_. nor is this all which we do sing, for of your praise the world must ring: reader, unto your tackling look, for there is coming forth a book, will spoyl _joseph bernesius_ the sale of _rex platonicus_. his majesty was, as usual, entertained with speeches, disputations, and dramatic exhibitions. fuller relates, that the following extraordinary divinity act, or disputation, was kept at cambridge before this prince, during this visit, where dr. john davenant (afterwards bishop of sarum) was respondent, and dr. richardson, amongst others, opponent. the question was maintained, in the _negative_, concerning the excommunicating of kings. dr. richardson vigorously pressed the practice of st. ambrose, who excommunicated the emperor theodosius,--insomuch, says fuller, that the king, in a great passion, returned,--"_profecto fuit hoc ab ambrosio insolentissime factum_." to which dr. r. rejoined,--"_responsum vere regium, et alexandro dignum, hoc non est argumentu dissolvere, sed desecare_,"--and so, sitting down, discontinued from any further argument. it was for the entertainment of james during this visit, that the famous cambridge latin comedy, entitled ignoramus, was first enacted. it originated in a dispute on the question of precedency, in 1611, when the mayor, whose name was thomas smart, had seated himself in a _superior_ place in the guildhall of the town, in the presence of the vice-chancellor of the university, who asserted his right to the same; but the mayor refused to resign the seat, till the vice-chancellor's attendants forcibly ejected him. the dispute was laid before the privy council, who decided in favour of the vice-chancellor. but during the progress of the affair, the recorder of cambridge, named brankyn, stoutly defended the mayor and corporation against the rights of the university. this it was that induced the author of the play, geo. ruggle, fellow of clare-hall, to _show him up_, in the pedantic, crafty, pragmatical character of _ignoramus_; and if lawyer brankyn, it is said, had not actually set the dispute agoing, he greatly contributed to keep it alive. at this time king james had long been expected to visit cambridge, who had a strong prejudice against lawyers, and a ruling passion to be thought the patron of literature. the circumstances suggested to ruggle the propriety of exposing lawyer brankyn before his majesty, in the above character, and to render it the more forcible, he resolved to adopt the common-law forms, and the cant and barbarous phraseology of lawyers in the ordinary discourse. it was, therefore, necessary that he should make himself master of that _dialect_, in which almost the best amongst them were accustomed to write and even to discourse; a jargon, says wilson, in his _memorabilia cantabrigiæ_, could not but be offensive to a classical car. he, therefore, took more than ordinary pains to acquaint himself with the technical terms of the profession, and to mark the abuse of them, of which he has admirably availed himself in the formation of the character of _ignoramus_, who not only transacts business, but "woos in language of the pleas and bench." the comedy was enacted before his majesty by the members of the university, and he was so much delighted with, _on dit_, either the wit or absurdity, that he caused it to be played a second time, and once at newmarket. during one of these representations, says dr. peckard, formerly master of magdalen college, in his life of mr. farrer, "the king called out aloud, 'treason! treason!' the gentlemen about him being anxious to know what disturbed his majesty, he said, 'that the writer and performers had acted their parts so well, that he should die of laughter.'" it was during the performance of this play, according to rapin and others, that james was first struck with the personal beauty of _george villiers_, who afterwards became duke of buckingham, and supplanted _somerset_ in his favour. thomas gibbons, esq. says, in his collection, forming part of the harleian mss. in the british museum, (no. 980, art. 173.) that "the comedy of ignoramus, supposed to be by mr. ruggle, is but a translation of the italian comedy of baptista porta, entitled _trapulario_, as may be seen by the comedy itself, in clare-hall library, with mr. ruggle's notes and alterations thereof." a literary relique that is said to have now disappeared; but it is to be hoped, for the credit of a learned society, that it is a _mistake_. dyer in his _privileges of cambridge_ (citing vol. ii. fol. 149 of hare's mss.) gives _the judgment of the earl marshal of england_, which settled this famous controversy. the original document is extant in the crown office, in these words:--"i do set down, &c. that the vice-chancellor of cambridge is to be taken in commission before the mayor. king james, also, in the third of his raigne, by letters under the privy signett, commandeth the lord ellesmere, chancellor of england, to place the vice-chancellor before the mayor, in all commissions of the peace or otherwise, where public shew of degrees is to be made." an oxonian and a bishop, who had half a score of the softer sex to lisp "papa," not one of whom his lady was conjuror enough "to get off," was one day accosted in piccadilly by an old oxford _chum_, with, "i hope i see your lordship well." "pretty well, for a man who is daily smothered in _petticoats_, and has ten daughters and a wife to carve for," was the reply. * * * * * brief notice of the boar's head carol, as sung in queen's college, oxford, on christmas day. "the earliest collection of christmas carols supposed to have been published," says hone, in his every-day book, "is only known from the last leaf of a volume, printed by wynkyn worde, in the year 1521. this precious scrap was picked up by tom hearne; dr. rawlinson purchased it at his decease in a volume of tracts, and bequeathed it to the bodleian library. there are two carols upon it: one, 'a caroll of huntynge,' is reprinted in the last edition of juliana berner's 'boke of st. alban's;' the other, 'a caroll bringing in the boar's head,' is in mr. dibdin's edition of "ames," with a copy of it as it is now sung in queen's college, oxford, every christmas day. dr. bliss of oxford also printed on a sheet, for private distribution, a few copies of this, and anthony wood's version of it, with notices concerning the custom, from the handwriting of wood and dr. rawlinson, in the bodleian library. ritson, in his ill-tempered 'observations on warton's history of english poetry,' (1782, 4to., p. 37,) has a christmas carol upon bringing up the boar's head, from an ancient ms. in his possession, wholly different from dr. bliss's. the 'bibliographical miscellanies' (oxford, 1814, 4to.) contains seven carols from a collection in one volume, in the possession of dr. cotton, of christ-church college, oxford, 'imprynted at london, in the poultry, by richard kele, dwelling at the longe shop vnder saynt myldrede's chyrche,'" probably between 1546 and 1552. "i had an opportunity of perusing this exceedingly curious volume (mr. hone,) which is supposed to be unique, and has since passed into the hands of mr. freeling." "according to aubrey's ms., in the coll. ashmol. mus., oxford," says a writer in the morning herald of the 25th of dec., 1833, "before the last civil wars, in gentlemen's houses, at christmas, the first dish that was brought to the table was _a boar's head, with a lemon in his mouth_. at qeeun's college, oxford," adds this writer, "they still retain this custom; the bearer of it brings it into the hall, singing, to an old tune, an old latin rhyme, "_caput apri defero_," &c. "the carol, according to hearne, ames, warton, and ritson," says dr. dibdin, in his edition of the second, is as follows:-a carol bringing in the bores heed. caput apri differo reddens laudes domino. the bore's heed in hande bring i, with garlands gay and rosemary, i praye you all synge merely, qui estis in convivio. the bores heed i understande is the thefte servyce in this lande, take where ever it be fande, servite cum cantico. be gladde lordes bothe more and lasse, for this hath ordeyned our stewarde, to chere you all this christmasse, the bores heed with mustarde. "this carol (says warton,) with many alterations, is yet retained at queen's college, oxford," though "other ancient carols occur with latin burthens or latin intermixtures." but, "being anxious to obtain a correct copy of this ballad," says dr. dibdin, in his ames, "as i had myself heard it sung in the hall of queen's college, i wrote to the rev. mr. dickinson, tutor of the college, to favour me with an account of it: his answer, which may gratify the curious, is here subjoined. "'_queen's college, june 7th_, 1811. "'dear sir,--i have much pleasure in transmitting you a copy of the old _boar's head song_, as it has been sung in our college-hall, every christmas day, within my remembrance. there are some barbarisms in it, which seem to betoken its antiquity. it is sung to the common chaunt of the prose version of the psalms in cathedrals; at least, whenever i have attended the service at magdalen or new college chapels, i have heard the boar's head strain continually occurring in the psalms. "'the boar's head in hand bring i, bedeck'd with bays and rosemary; and i pray you, my masters, be merry, quot estis in convivio. _caput apri defero_ _reddens laudes domino_. "'the boar's head, as i understand, is the rarest dish in all this land, which thus bedeck'd with a gay garland, let us servire cantico. _caput apri defero_ _reddens laudes domino_. "'our steward hath provided this in honour of the king of bliss; which on this day to be served is, in regimensi atrio. _caput apri defero_ _reddens laudes domino_.'" "the following," adds the doctor, "is hearne's minute account of it: (_hist. guil. neubrig. vol. iii. p. 743:_) 'i will beg leave here,' says the pugnacious oxford antiquary, 'to give an exact copy of the christmas carol _upon the boar's head_, (which is an ancient dish, and was brought up by king henry i. with trumpets, before his son, when his said son was crowned) as i have it in an old fragment, (for i usually preserve even fragments of old books) of the christmas carols printed by wynkyn de worde, (who as well as richard pynson, was servant to william caxton, who was the first that printed english books, though not the first printer in england, as is commonly said,) printing being exercised at oxford in 1468, if not sooner, which was several years before he printed anything at westminster, by which it will be perceived how much the said carol is altered, as it is sung in some places even now, from what it was at first. it is the last thing, it seems, of the book (which i never yet saw entire,) and at the same time i think it proper also to add to the printer's conclusion, for this reason, at least, that such as write about our first printers, may have some notice of the date of this book, and the exact place where printed, provided they cannot be able to meet with it, as i believe they will find it pretty difficult to do, it being much laid aside, about the time that some of david's psalms came to be used in its stead.'" this custom is briefly noticed in pointer's "_oxoniensis academia_," as "that of having a boar's head, or the figure of one in wood, brought up in the hall every year on christmas day, ushered in very solemnly with an old song, in memory of a noble exploit (as tradition goes,) by a scholar (a tabardar) of this college, in killing a wild boar in shotover wood." that is, having wandered into the said wood, which was not far from oxford, with a copy of aristotle in his hand (for the oxonians were of old logicians of the orthodox school in which an alexander the great was bred,) and if the latter, as a pupil who sat at the foot of aristotle, conquered _a world_, no wonder our tabardar, as a disciple being attacked by a wild boar, who came at him with extended jaws, intending to make but _a mouthful of him_, was enabled to conquer so rude a beast, which he _did_ by thrusting the aristotle down the boar's throat, crying, in the concluding words of the 5th stanza of the following song--'græcum est.' the animal of course fell prostrate at his feet, was carried in triumph to the college, and no doubt served up with _an 'old song,'_ as mr. pointer says, in memory of this "_noble exploit_." the witty _dr. buckler_, however, is not satisfied with this brief notice of mr. pointer's: but says, in his _never-to-be-forgotten_ exposé, or "complete vindication," of _the all-souls' mallard_ (of which anon,) "i am apt to fear, that it is a fixed principle in mr. _pointer_ to ridicule every _ceremony_ and _solemn institution_ that comes in his way, however venerable it may be for its antiquity and significance;" and after quoting mr. pointer's words, he adds, with his _unrivalled irony_, "now, notwithstanding this _bold hint_ to the contrary, it seemeth to me to be altogether unaccountable and incredible, that a polite and learned society should be so far depraved, in its taste, and so much in love with a _block-head_, as to eat it. but as i have never had the honour of dining at a _boar's head_, and there are many gentlemen more nearly concerned and better informed, as well as better qualified, in every respect, to refute this _calumny_ than i am, i shall avoid entering into a thorough discussion of this subject. i know it is given out by mr. pointer's enemies, that he hath been employed by some of the _young seceders_ from that college, to throw out a story of the _wooden-head_, in order to countenance the complaints of those gentlemen about _short commons_, and the great deficiency of _mutton_, _beef_, &c.; and, indeed, i must say, that nothing could have better answered their purpose, in this respect, than in proving, according to the _insinuation_, that the chief dish at one of their highest festivals, was nothing but a log of wood _bedeck'd with bays and rosemary_; but surely this cannot be credited, after the _university_ has been informed by the _best authority_, and in the most _public_ manner, that a _young nobleman_, who lately completed his academical education at that house, was, during his whole residence, not only very _well satisfied_ but _extremely delighted_ with the college commons." in the oxford sausage is the following ryghte excellente song in honour of the celebration of the boar's head, at queen's college, oxford. _tam marti quam mercurio._ i sing not of rome or grecian mad games. the pythian, olympic, and such like hard names; your patience awhile, with submission, i beg, i strive but to honour the feast of coll. reg. derry down, down, down, derry down. no thracian brawls at our rites e'er prevail, we temper our mirth with plain sober mild ale; the tricks of old circe deter us from wine: though we honour a boar, we won't make ourselves swine. derry down, &c. great milo was famous for slaying his ox, yet he proved but an ass _in cleaving of blocks_: but we had a hero for all things was fit, our motto displays both his valour and wit. derry down, &c. stout hercules labour'd, and look'd mighty big, when he slew the half-starved erymanthian pig; but we can relate such a stratagem taken, that the stoutest of boars could not _save his own bacon_. derry down, &c. so dreadful his bristle-back'd foe did appear, you'd have sworn he had got the wrong _pig by the ear_, but instead of avoiding the mouth of the beast, he ramm'd in a volume, and cried--_græcum est_. derry down, &c. in this gallant action such fortitude shown is, as proves him no coward, nor tender adonis; no armour but logic; by which we may find, that logic's the bulwark of body and mind. derry down, &c. ye squires that fear neither hills nor rough rocks, and think you're full wise when you out-wit a fox; enrich your poor brains, and expose them no more, learn greek, and seek glory from hunting the boar. derry down, &c. * * * * * cleaving the block, is another custom that either _was_, or _is_, annually celebrated at queen's college, oxford, not _pro bono publico_, it seems, but pro bono _cook-o!_ and has a reference, probably, to the exploit in which milo "proved but an ass," as observed in the second line of the third verse of the foregoing song. _on dit_, every christmas, new year's, or some other day, at that season of the year, _a block of wood_ is placed at the hall-door, where the _cook_ stands with his _cleaver_, which he delivers to each member of the college, as he passes out of the hall, who endeavours, at _one_ stroke, to sever the block of wood; failing to do which, he throws down half-a-crown, in which sum he is _mulct_. this is done by every one in succession, should they, as is invariably the case, prove themselves asses in "cleaving of blocks." but should any one out-milo milo, he would be entitled to all the half-crowns previously forfeited: otherwise the whole _goes to the cook_. * * * * * the misfortune of being little. lord byron has said, that a man is unfortunate whose name will admit of being _punned upon_. the lament might apply to all peculiarities of person and habit. dr. joseph jowett, the late regius professor of civil law at cambridge, though a learned man, an able lecturer, one that generously fostered talent in rising young men, and a _dilettante_ musician of a refined and accurate taste, was remarkable for some singularities, as smallness of stature, and for gardening upon a small scale. this gave the late bishop mansel or porson (for it has been attributed to both, and both were capable of perpetrating it) an occasion to throw off the following latin epigram: exiguum hunc hortum jowettulus iste exiguus, vallo et muriit exiguo: exiguo hoc horto forsan jowettulus iste exiguus mentem prodidit exiguum. in english, as much as to say: a _little_ garden _little_ jowett had, and fenced it with a _little_ palisade: because this garden made a _little_ talk, he changed it to a _little_ gravel walk: and if you'ld know the taste of _little_ jowett, this _little_ garden doth a _little_ show it. * * * * * bishops blomfield and monk, who had the honour to edit his _adversaria_, can both, it is said, bear witness to the fact, that porson was unlike many pedants who make a display of their brilliant parts to surprise rather than enlighten; he was liberal in the extreme, and truly amiable in communicating his knowledge to young men of talent and industry, and would tell them all they wanted to know in a plain and direct manner, without any attempt to display his superiority. all, however, agree that the time for profiting by porson's learning was _inter bibendum_, for then, as chaucer says of the sompnour- "when he well dronkin had with wine, then would he speak ne word but latine." more than one distinguished judge of his merits pronounced him the greatest scholar in europe, and he never appeared so sore, says one who knew him well, as when a _wakefield_ or a _hermann_ offered to set him right, or hold their tapers to light him on his way. their doing so gave him occasion to compare them to _four-footed animals, guided only by instinct_; and in future, he said, he "would take care they should not reach what he wrote with their paws, though they stood on their hind legs." i may here very appropriately repeat the fact, that porson was a great master of iambic measure, as he has shown in his preface to the second edition of his hecuba. the german critic, hermann, however, whom he makes to say, in his notes on the medea, "we germans understand quantity better than the english," accuses him of being more dictatorial than explanatory in his metrical decisions. upon this the professor fired the following epigram at the german:- [greek: nêi des esnte metrôn ô teutones, ouch ho men, hos d' ou, pantes plên 'ermannos, ho d' 'ermannos sphodra teutôn.] the germans in greek, are sadly to seek; not five in five score, but ninety-five more; all, save only hermann, and hermann's a german. porson and wakefield had but little regard for each other, and when the latter published his _hecuba_, porson said- "what's hecuba to him, or he to hecuba, that he should publish her?" at another time, being teased for his opinion of a modern latin poem, his reply was,--"there is a great deal in it from _horace_, and a great deal from _virgil_: but nothing _horatian_ and nothing _virgilian_." dr. parr once asked the professor, "what he thought of the origin of evil?" "_i see no good in it_," was his answer. the same pugnacious divine told him one day, that "with all his learning, he did not think him well versed in metaphysics." "sir," said porson, "i suppose you mean _your_ metaphysics." it is not generally known that during the time he was employed in deciphering the famed rosetta stone, in the collection of the british museum, which is _black_, he obtained the soubriquet of judge blackstone. and it is here worthy of remark, that it was to another celebrated cantab, porson's contemporary, dr. edward daniel clarke, the traveller, that we are indebted for that relique of antiquity. he happened to be in egypt at the time the negociation for the evacuation of that country by the remnant of bonaparte's army was progressing between lord hutchinson and the french general, menou. knowing the french were in possession of the famed rosetta stone, amongst other reliques, clarke's sagacity induced him to point out to lord hutchinson the importance of possessing it. the consequence was, he was named as one of the parties to negociate with menou for the surrender of that and their other egyptian monuments and valuable reliques which the _sçavans_ attached to the french army had sedulously collected; and notwithstanding every impediment and even insult were heaped upon, and thrown in clarke's way, his perseverance was proof against it all. indeed, dr. edward daniel clarke, whose name and writings are now justly celebrated throughout the civilized world, was from his very childhood (says his biographer, contemporary, and friend, the learned principal of king's college, london,) an enthusiast in whatever he undertook, and always possessed, in a very high degree, the power of interesting the minds of others towards any objects that occupied his own. this was remarkably illustrated by his manufacture of a balloon, with which he amused the university, in the third year of his residence, when not more than eighteen, probably the only instance of a member of either university constructing one. it "was magnificent in size, and splendid in its decorations, and was constructed and manoeuvred, from first to last, entirely by himself. it was the contrivance of many anxious thoughts, and the labour of many weeks, to bring it to what he wished; and when, at last, it was completed to his satisfaction, and had been suspended for some days in the college hall, of which it occupied the whole height, he announced a time for its ascension. there was nothing at that period very new in balloons, or very curious in the species he had adopted; but by some means he had contrived to disseminate, not only within his own college, but throughout the whole university, a prodigious curiosity respecting the fate of this experiment; and a vast concourse of persons assembled, both within and without the college walls; and the balloon having been brought to its station, the grass-plot within the cloisters of jesus' college, was happily launched by himself, amidst the applause of all ranks and degrees of gownsmen, the whole scene succeeding to his wish; nor is it very easy to forget the delight which flashed from _his_ eye, and the triumphant wave of _his_ cap, when the machine, with its little freight (a kitten,) having cleared the college battlements, was seen floating in full security over the towers of the great gate, followed in its course by several persons on horseback, who had undertaken to recover it; and all went home delighted with an exhibition upon which nobody would have ventured, in such a place, but himself. but to gratify and amuse others was ever the source of the greatest satisfaction to him." this was one of those early displays of that spirit of enterprise which was so gloriously developed in his subsequent wanderings through the dreary regions of the north, over the classic shores of mouldering greece, of egypt, and of palestine, the scenes of which, and their effects upon his vivid imagination and sanguine spirit, he has so admirably depicted in his writings. this eminent traveller used to say, that the old proverb, "with too many irons in the fire some must burn," "was a lie." use poker, tongs, shovel, and all,--only keep them all stirring, was his creed. few had the capacity of keeping them so effectually stirring as he had. nature seemed to have moulded him, head and heart, to be in a degree a contradiction to the wise saws of experience. * * * * * three blue beans in a bladder. dr. bentley said of our celebrated cambridge professor, joshua barnes, that "he knew about as much greek as an athenian blacksmith," but he was certainly no ordinary scholar, and few have excelled him in his tact at throwing of "trifles light as air" in that language, of which his following version of _three blue beans in a bladder_ is a sample: [greek: treis kyamoi eni kystidi kyaneêphi.] equal to this is the following spondaic on the three university bedels, by kit smart, who well deserved, though dr. johnson denied him, a place in his british poets. he possessed great wit and sprightliness of conversation, which would readily flow off in extemporaneous verse, says dyer, and the three university bedels all happening to be fat men, he thus immortalized them: "pinguia tergeminorum abdomina bedellorum." (three bedels sound, with paunches fat and round.) * * * * * no scholar in europe understood them better. it is recorded of another cambridge clarke, the rev. john, who was successively head-master of the grammar schools of skipton, beverley, and wakefield in yorkshire, and obtained the honourable epithet of "_the good school-master_"--that when he presented himself to our great critic, dr. richard bentley, at trinity college, cambridge, for admission, the doctor proceeded to examine him, as is usual, and placed before him a page of the greek text, with the scholia, for the purpose. "he explained the whole," says his memorialist, dr. zouch, "with the utmost perspicuity, elegance, and ease. dr. bentley immediately presented him with a valuable edition of the comedies of aristophanes, telling him, in language peculiar to himself, that no scholar in europe understood them better, _one person only excepted_." dyer has the following bentleian anecdote in his supplement, but supposes it cannot be charged upon the doctor, "the greatest greek scholar of his age." he is said to have set a scholar a copy of greek verses, by way of _imposition_, for some offence against college discipline. having completed his verses, he brought them to the doctor, who had not proceeded far in examining them before he was struck with a passage, which he pronounced _bad_ greek. "yet, sir," said the scholar, with submission, "i thought i had followed good authority," and taking a pindar out of his pocket, he pointed to a similar expression. the doctor was satisfied, but, continuing to read on, he soon found another passage, which he said was certainly bad greek. the young man took his pindar out of his pocket again, and showed another passage, which he had followed as his authority. the doctor was a little nettled, but he proceeded to the end of the verses, when he observed another passage at the close, which he affirmed was not classical. "yet pindar," rejoined the young man, "was my authority even here," and he pointed out the place which he had closely imitated. "get along, sir," exclaimed the doctor, rising from his chair in a passion, "pindar was very bold, and you are very impudent." * * * * * the great gaudy of the all-souls' mallard. this feast is annually celebrated the 14th of january, by the society of all-souls, _in piam memoriam_ of their founder, the famous henry chichele, archbishop of canterbury. it is a custom at all-souls' college (says pointer, in his oxoniensis academia,) kept up on "their mallard-night every year, in remembrance of a huge mallard or drake, found (as tradition goes) imprisoned in a gutter or drain under ground, and grown to a vast bigness, at the digging for the foundation of the college." this mallard had grown to a huge size, and was, it appears, of a great age; and to account for the longevity, he cites the ornithology of willughby, who observes, "that he was assured by a friend of his, a person of very good credit, that his father kept a goose known to be sixty years of age, and as yet sound and lusty, and like enough to have lived many years longer, had he not been forced to kill her, for her mischievousness, worrying and destroying the young geese and goslings." "and my lord bacon," he adds, "in his natural history, says, the goose may pass among the long-livers, though his food be commonly grass and such kind of nourishment, especially the wild goose; wherefore this proverb grew among the germans, _magis senex quam anser nivalis--older than a wild-goose_." he might also have instanced the english proverb, "as tough as a michaelmas goose." "if a goose be such a long-lived bird," observes mr. p., "why not a duck or a drake, since i reckon they may be both ranked in the same class, though of a different species, as to their size, as a rat and a mouse? and if so, this may help to give credit to our all-souls' mallard. however, this is certain, this mallard is the accidental occasion of a great gaudy once a-year, and great mirth, though the commemoration of their founder is the chief occasion; for on this occasion is always sung," as extant in the oxford sausage, the following "merry old song:"-the all-souls' mallard. griffin, bustard, turkey, capon, let our hungry mortals gape on, and on their bones their stomach fall hard, but all-souls' men have their mallard. oh! by the blood of king edward, oh! by the blood of king edward, it was a swapping, swapping, mallard. the _romans_ once admired a _gander_ more than they did their chief commander, because he saved, if some don't fool us, the place that's called from the _head of tolus_. oh! by the blood, &c. the poets feign _jove_ turned a swan, but let them prove it if they can; as for our proof, 'tis not at all hard, for it was a swapping, swapping mallard. oh! for the blood, &c. swapping he was from bill to eye, swapping he was from wing to thigh; swapping--his age and corporation out-swapped all the winged creation. oh! for the blood, &c. therefore let us sing and dance a galliard, to the remembrance of the mallard; and as the mallard dives in a pool, let us dabble, dive, and duck in a bowl. oh! by the blood of king edward, oh! by the blood of king edward, it was a swapping, swapping mallard. but whoever would possess themselves of the true history of the _swapping mallard_ of all-souls, must read the "_complete vindication of the mallard of all-souls_," published in 1751, by dr. buckler, sub-warden, "a most incontrovertible proof of his wit," who for that and other, his effusions, was usually styled, by way of eminence, says chalmers, in his history of oxford, "the buckler of the mallardians." his _vindication_, it is justly observed, is "one of the finest pieces of _irony_ in our language." of course, he is highly indignant at the "injurious suggestions of mr. pointer (contained in the foregoing quotations,) who insinuates, that the huge _mallard_ was no better than a _goose-a-gander_, "_magis senex_," &c.; and after citing the very words of mr. p., he breaks out, "thus the _mallard of all-souls_, whose remembrance has, for these three centuries, been held in the highest veneration, is, by this _forged hypothesis_, degraded into a goose, or, at least, ranked in the _same class_ with that ridiculous animal, and the whole story on which the rites and ceremonies of the _mallard_ depends, is represented as _merely traditional_; more than a hint is given of the _mischievousness_ of the bird, whatever he be; and all is founded on a _pretended longevity_, in support of which fiction the great names of lord _bacon_ and mr. _willughby_ are called in, to make the vilifying insinuation pass the more plausibly upon the world." "we live in an age (he adds,) when the _most serious_ subjects are treated with an air of ridicule; i shall therefore set this _important affair_ in its true light, and produce authorities "sufficient to convince the most obstinate incredulity; and first, i shall beg leave to transcribe a passage from _thomas walsingham_, (see _nicholson's_ historical library,) a _monk_ of _st. alban's_, and regius professor of history in that monastery, about the year 1440. this writer is well known among the historians for his _historia brevis_, written in latin, and published both by _camden_ and archbishop _parker_. but the tract i am quoting is in english, and entitled, of wonderful and surprising eventys, and, as far as i can find, has never yet been printed. the eighth chapter of his fifth book begins thus:-"'ryghte well worthie of note is thilke famous tale of the _all-soulen_ mallarde, the whiche, because it bin acted in our daies, and of a suretye vouched into me, i will in fewe wordys relate. "'whereas _henrye chicele_, the late renowned arch-bishope of _cantorburye_, had minded to founden a collidge in _oxenforde_ for the hele of his soule and the soules of all those who peryshed in the warres in _fraunce_, fighteing valiantlye under our most gracious _henrye_ the fifthe, moche was he distraughten concerning the place he myghte choose for thilke purpose. him thynketh some whylest how he myghte place it withouten the eastern parte of the citie, both for the pleasauntnesse of the meadowes and the clere streamys therebye runninge. agen him thynketh odir whylest howe he mote builden it on the northe side for the heleful ayre there coming from the fieldis. now while he doubteth thereon he dreamt, and behold there appearyth unto him one of righte godelye personage, saying and adviseing him as howe he myghte placen his collidge in the highe strete of the citie, nere unto the chirche of our blessed ladie the virgine, and in witnesse that it was sowthe and no vain and deceitful phantasie, wolled him to laye the first stone of the foundation at the corner which turnyth towards the _cattys-strete_, where in delvinge he myghte of a suretye finde a schwoppinge mallarde imprison'd in the sinke or sewere, wele yfattened and almost ybosten. sure token of the thrivaunce of his future collidge. "'moche doubteth he when he awoke on the nature of this vision, whether he mote give hede thereto or not. then advisyth he thereon with monie docters and learned clerkys, all sayd howe he oughte to maken trial upon it. then comyth he to _oxenforde_, and on a daye fix'd, after masse seyde, proceedeth he in solemn wyse, with spades and pickaxes for the nonce provided, to the place afore spoken of. but long they had not digged ere they herde, as it myghte seme, within the wam of the erthe, horrid strugglinges and flutteringes, and anon violent quaakinges of the distressyd mallarde. then _chicele_ lyfteth up his hondes and seyth _benedicite_, &c. &c. nowe when they broughte him forthe behold the size of his bodie was as that of a bustarde or an ostriche, and moche wonder was thereat, for the lyke had not been been scene in this londe, ne in anie odir.' "here," says the doctor, "we have the matter of fact proved from an _authentic record_, wherein there is not one word said of the _longevity_ of the _mallard_, upon a supposition of which mr. _pointer_ has founded his whole _libel_. the _mallard_, 'tis true, has grown to a great size. but what then? will not the richness and plenty of the diet he wallowed in very well account for this, without supposing any great number of years of imprisonment? the words of the historian, i am sure, rather discourage any such supposition. _sure token_, says he, _of the thrivance of his future college!_ which seems to me to intimate the great _progress_ the _mallard_ had made in fattening, in a short space of time. but be this as it will, there is not the least hint of a _goose_ in the case. no: the impartial _walsingham_ had far higher notions of the _mallard_, and could form no comparison of him, without borrowing his idea from some of the most noble birds, the _bustard_ and the _ostridge_." turning to our author's comment on the last passage of mr. pointer, he adds, "however, this is certain, this _mallard_ is the accidental occasion of a _great gaudy_ once a year, and great _mirth_; for on this occasion is always sung a _merry old song_."--"_rem tam seriam--tam negligenter_," exclaims the doctor; "would any one but this author have represented so _august_ a ceremony as the _celebration of the mallard_ by those vulgar circumstances of eating and drinking, and singing a _merry old song_? doth he not know that the greatest states, even those of _rome_ and _carthage_, had their infant foundations distinguished by incidents very much resembling those of the _mallard_, and that the commemoration of them was celebrated with hymns and processions, and made a part of their _religious observances_? let me refresh his memory with a circumstance or two relating to the head of _tolus_ (will serve to elucidate the fourth line of the second verse of the _merry old song_) which was discovered at the foundation of the _capitol_. the _romans_ held the remembrance of it in the greatest veneration, as will appear from the following quotation from _arnobius_, in a fragment preserved by _lipsius_:--'quo die (says he, speaking of the annual _celebrity_) congregati sacerdotes, et eorum ministri, totum capitolinum collem circumibant, cantilenam quandam sacram de _toli_ cujusdam capite, dum molirentur fundamenta invento, recitantes deinde ad coenam verè pontificiam se recipientes,' &c. part of this _merry old song_ (as mr. p. would call it) is preserved by _vossius_, in his book _de sacris cantilenis veterum romanorum_. the chorus of it shows so much the simplicity of the _ancient roman poetry_ that i cannot forbear transcribing it for the benefit of my reader, as the book is too scarce to be in every one's hand. it runs thus: toli _caput venerandum_! magnum caput et mirandum! toli _caput resonamus_. i make no doubt but that every _true critic_ will be highly pleased with it. for my own part, it gives me a particular pleasure to reflect on the resemblance there is between this _precious relique_ of antiquity, and the chorus of the _mallard_. _oh, by the blood of king_ edward, _it was a swapping, swapping_ mallard! the _greatness_ of the subject, you see, is the thing celebrated in both, and the manner of doing it is as nearly equal as the different geniuses of the two languages will permit. let me hope, therefore, that mr. p. when he exercises his thoughts again on this subject, will learn to think more highly of the _mallard_, than of a _common gaudy_, or _merry making_. for it will not be just to suppose that the gentlemen of _all-souls_ can have less regard for the memory of so noble a bird, found _all alive_, than the romans had for the _dead skull_ of the _lord knows whom_." * * * * * another oxford dream preceded the foundation of st. john's college. dr. plott relates, in his history of oxfordshire, that the founder of st. john's college, oxford, sir thomas white, alderman and merchant tailor of london, originally designed the establishment of his college at his birth-place, reading, in berkshire. but being warned in a dream, that he should build a college for the education of youth, in religion and learning, near a place where he should find two elms growing out of the same root, he first proceeded to cambridge, and finding no such tree, he repaired to oxford, where he discovered one, which answered the description in his dream, near st. bernard's college. elated with joy, he dismounted from his horse, and, on his knees, returned thanks for the fortunate issue of his pious search. dr. joseph warton seems to throw a doubt upon dr. plott's narration, observing, that he was _fond of the marvellous_. the college was founded in the middle of the sixteenth century, and doctor plott says, that the tree was in a flourishing state in his day, 1677, when dr. leving was president of st. john's college. mr. pointer observes, in his _oxoniensis academia_, "the _triple_ trees that occasioned the foundation of the college, &c. did stand between the library and the garden. one of them died in 1626." the following letter, addressed to the society by sir thomas, the founder, a fortnight before his death, the 11th of february, 1566, is a relic worth printing, though it does "savour of death's heads." "_mr. president, with the fellows and schollers._ "i have mee recommended unto you even from the bottome of my hearte, desyringe the holye ghoste may be amonge you untill the end of the worlde, and desyringe almightie god, that everie one of you may love one another as brethren; and i shall desyre you all to applye to your learninge, and so doinge, god shall give you his blessinge bothe in this worlde and the worlde to come. and, furthermore, if anye variance or strife doe arise amonge you, i shall desyre you, for god's love, to pacifye it as much as you may; and that doinge, i put no doubt but god shall blesse everye one of you. and this shall be the last letter that ever i shall sende unto you; and therefore i shall desyre everye one of you, to take a copy of yt for my sake. no more to you at this tyme; but the lord have you in his keeping until the end of the worlde. written the 27th day of january, 1566. i desyre you all to pray to god for mee, that i may ende my life with patience, and that he may take mee to his mercye. "by mee, "sir thomas white, "_knighte, alderman of london, and_ "_founder of st. john's college, in oxford_." * * * * * a point of precedence settled. a dispute once arose between the doctors of law and medicine, in cambridge, as to which had the right of precedence. "does the _thief_ or _hangman_ take precedence at executions?" asked the chancellor, on reference to his judgment. "the former," answered a wag. "then let the doctors of law have precedence," said the chancellor. * * * * * compliments to the learned of both universities. "the names which learned men bear for any length of time," says dr. parr, "are generally well founded." _dr. chillingworth_, for his able and convincing writings in support of the protestant church, was styled "malleus papistarum." _dr. sutherland_, the friend and literary associate of dr. mead, and others, obtained the _soubriquet_ of "the walking dictionary." john duns, better known as the celebrated _duns scotus_, who was bred at merton college, oxford, and is said to have been buried alive, was called doctor subtilis; another mertonian, named occam, his successor and opponent, was named doctor invincibilis; a third was the famous sir henry savile, who had the title of profound bestowed upon him: and a fourth of the society of merton college, was the celebrated reformer, john wickliffe, who was called doctor evangelicus. wood, says, that dr. john reynolds, president of corpus christi college, oxford, died in 1607, "one of so prodigious a memory, that he might have been called the walking library;" to "see whom," he adds, "was to command virtue itself." if duns scotus was justly called "the most subtle doctor," says parr, roger bacon, "the wonderful," bonaventure "the seraphim," aquinas the "universal and evangelical," surely hooker has with equal, if not superior justice, obtained the name of "the judicious." bishop louth, in his preface to his english grammar, has bestowed the highest praise upon the purity of hooker's style. bishop warburton, in his book on the alliance between church and state, often quotes him, and calls him, "the excellent, the admirable, the best good man of our order." * * * * * john leland, senior, says wood, who in the reigns of henry v. and vi. taught and read in peckwaters ynne, while it flourished with grammarians, "was one so well seen in verse and prose, and all sorts of humanity, that he went beyond the learnedest of his age, and was so noted a grammarian, that this verse was made upon him:- 'ut rosa flos florum sic leland grammaticorum;' which," he adds, "with some alteration, was fastened upon john leland, junior, by richard croke, of cambridge, at what time the said leland became a protestant, and thereupon," observes wood (as if it were a necessary consequence,) "fell mad:" 'ut rosa flos florum sic leland flos fatuorum.' which being replied to by leland (in encom. eruditorum in anglia, &c. per jo. leland's edit. lond. 1589,) was answered by a friend of croke's in verse also. and here by the way i must let the reader know that it was the fashion of that age (temp. hen. viii.) to buffoon, or wit it after that fashion, not only by the younger sort of students, but by bishops and grave doctors. the learned walter haddon, master of trinity hall, cambridge, and afterwards president of magdalen college, oxford, in an epistle that he wrote to dr. cox, almoner to edward iv. (afterwards bishop of ely) "doth give him great commendations of his actions and employments, and further addeth (in his lucubrations) that when he was at leisure to recreate his mind, he would, rather than be idle, 'scevolæ et lælii more--aut velitationem illam croci cum lelando perridiculam, vel reliquas oxonienses nugas (ita enim profecto sunt,' saith he,) 'evolvere voluerit, &c.' dr. tresham, also, who was many years commissary or vice-chancellor of the university, is said by (humfredus in vita juelli) 'ludere in re seria, &c.'" when queen elizabeth was asked her opinion of the scholarship of the two great cotemporaries, the learned buchanan and dr. walter haddon, the latter accounted the best writer of latin of his age, she dexterously avoided the imputation of partiality by replying: "_buchannum omnibus antepono, haddonum nemini postpono_." * * * * * lord mountjoy was the friend and cotemporary of erasmus, at queen's college, cambridge, and was so highly esteemed by that great man, that he called him, "_inter doctos nobilissimus, inter nobiles doctissimus, inter utrosque optimus_." his noble friend once entreated him to attack the errors of luther. "my lord," replied the sage, "nothing is more easy than to say luther is mistaken: nothing more difficult than to prove him so." vir egregie doctus, was the _soubriquet_ conferred upon the celebrated etonian, cantab, reformer, provost of king's college, and bishop of hereford, dr. edward fox, by the learned bishop godwin. another etonian and cantab, dr. aldrich, bishop of carlisle, received from erasmus, when young, the equally just and elegant compliment of "blandæ eloquentiæ juvenem." * * * * * a point of etiquette. many humorous stories are told of the absurd height to which the observance of _etiquette_ has been carried at both oxford and cambridge. in my time, you might meet _a good fellow_ at a _wine party_, crack your joke with him, hob-nob, &c., but, unless introduced, you would have been stared at with the most vacant wonderment if you attempted to recognise him next day. it is told of men of both universities, that a scholar walking on the banks of the isis, or cam, fell into the river, and was in the act of drowning, when another son of _alma-mater_ came up, and observing his perilous situation, exclaimed, "what a pity it is i have not the honour of knowing the gentleman, that i might save him!" one version of the story runs, that the said scholars met by accident on the banks of the nile or ganges, i forget which, when the catastrophe took place; we may, therefore, very easily imagine the presence of either a crocodile or an alligator to complete the group. wood, in his annals of oxford, has the following anecdote of the value of a syllable. "the masters of olden time at athens, and afterwards at oxford, were called _sophi_, and the scholars _sophistæ_; but the _masters_ taking it in scorn that the _scholars_ should have a larger name than they, called themselves _philosophi_,--that is, lovers of science, and so got the advantage of the scholars by _one syllable_." every body has heard of foote's celebrated motto for a tailor friend of his, about to sport his coat of arms,---"_list, list, o list!_" but every body has not heard, probably, though it is noticed in his memoir, extant in nichols's literary anecdotes, that the learned cambridge divine and antiquary, dr. _cocks macro_, having applied to a cambridge acquaintance for an appropriate motto to his coat of arms, was pithily answered with "cocks may crow." every cantab remembers and regrets the early death of the accomplished scholar, charles skinner matthews, m.a., late fellow of downing college, who was "the familiar" of the present sir j. c. hobhouse, and of the late lord byron. he was not more accomplished than facetious, nor, according to one of lord byron's letters, more facetious than "beloved." speaking of his university _freaks_, his lordship says, "when sir henry smith was expelled from cambridge, for a row with a tradesman named "_hiron_," matthews solaced himself with shouting under hiron's window every evening- "ah me! what perils do environ the man who meddles with _hot hiron_!" he was also of that band of profane scoffers who, under the auspices of ----, used to rouse lord mansel (late bishop of bristol) from his slumbers in the lodge of trinity (college;) and when he appeared at the window, foaming with wrath, and crying out, "i know you, gentlemen; i know you!" were wont to reply, "we beseech thee to hear us, good _lort_!--good _lort_ deliver us!" (_lort_ was his christian name.) and his lordship might have added, the pun was the more poignant, as the bishop was either a _welshman_ himself, or had a welsh sponsor, in the person of the late greek professor, dr. _lort_. punning upon sacred subjects, however, is decidedly in bad taste; yet, in the reign of the stuarts, neither king nor nobles were above it. our illustrious cantab, bacon, writing to prince, afterwards charles the first, in the midst of his disastrous _poverty_, says, he hopes, "as the father was his _creator_, the son will be his _redeemer_." yet this great man did not the less reverence religion, but said, towards the close of his chequered life, that "a little smattering in philosophy would lead a man to atheism, but a thorough insight into it will lead a man back to a first cause; and that the first principle of religion is right reason; and seriously professed, all his studies and inquisitions, he durst not die with any other thoughts than those religion taught, as it is professed among the christians." these incidents remind me that the memory of jemmy gordon, "who, to save from rustication, crammed the dunce with declamation," is now fast falling into _forgetfulness_, though there was a time when he was hailed by granta's choicest spirits, as one who never failed to "set the table in a roar." poor jemmy! i shall never forget the manner in which he, by one of those straightforward, not-to-be-mistaken flashes of wit, silenced a brow-beating radical huntingdon attorney, at a reform-meeting in cambridge market-pace. jemmy was a native of cambridge, and was the son of a former chapel-clerk of trinity college, who gave him an excellent classical education, and had him articled to an eminent solicitor, with fine talents and good prospects. but though jemmy was "a cunning man with a hard head," such as his profession required, he had a soft heart,--fell in love with a pretty girl. that pretty girl, it is said, returned his passion, then proved faithless, and finally coquetted and ran off with a "_gay_ deceiver," a fellow-commoner of trinity college,--optically dazzled, no doubt, with the purple robe and silver lace, for jemmy was a fine, sensible-looking man. poor jemmy! he was too good for the faithless hussy; he took it to heart, as they say, and, unfortunately, took to drinking at the same time. he soon became too unsettled, both in mind and habits, to follow up his profession with advantage, and he became a _bon-vivant_, a professed wit, with a natural turn for facete, and the _cram-man_ of the more idle sons of granta, who delighted in his society in those days when his wits were unclouded, nor did the more distinguished members of the university then disdain to hail him to their boards. for many years jemmy lived to know and prove that "learning is most excellent;" and having a good classical turn, he lived by writing _themes_ and _declarations_ for non-reading cantabs, for each of which jemmy expected the physician's mite, and, like them, might be said to thrive by the _guinea_ trade. it is, no doubt, true, that some of his productions had college prizes awarded to them, and that, on one occasion, being recommended to apply for the medal, he indignantly answered, "it is no credit to be first in an ass-race!" notwithstanding, jemmy's in-goings never equalled his out-goings, and many a parley had jemmy with his empty purse. it was no uncommon thing for him to pass his vacations in _quod_--_videlicet_ jail--for debts his creditors were well aware he could not pay; but they well knew also that his friends, the students, would be sure to _pay him out_ on their return to college. these circumstances give occasion for the publication of the now scarce caricatures of him, entitled, "term-time," and "non-term." in the first he is represented spouting to one of his _togaed_ customers, in the latter he appears cogitating in "durance vile." besides these, numerous portraits of jemmy have been put forth, for the correctness of most of which we, who have "held our sides at his fair words," can vouch. a full-length is extant in hone's every-day book, in the gradus ad catabrigiam is a second; and we doubt not but our friend mason, of church-passage, cambridge, could furnish a collector with several. poor jemmy! he has now been dead several years. his latter days were melancholy indeed. to the last, however, jemmy continued to sport those distinctive marks of a man of _ton_, a _spying-glass_ and an _opera-hat_, which so well became him. latterly he became troublesome to his best friends, not only levying contributions at will, but by saying _hard things_ to them, sparing neither heads of college, tutors, fellows, students, or others whose names were familiar to him. on one occasion, oblivious with too much devotion to _sir john_, as was latterly his wont, his abuse caused him to be committed to the _tread-mill_--_sic transit_--and after his term of _exercise_ had expired, meeting a cantab in the street whose beauty was even less remarkable than his wit, he addressed our recreant with, "well, jemmy, how do you like the tread-mill?" "i don't like your ---ugly face," was the response. jemmy's recorded witticisms were at one time as numberless as the stars, and in the mouth of every son of granta, bachelor or big-wig; now some only are remembered. he one day met sir john mortlock in the streets of granta, soon after he had been knighted; making a dead pause, and looking sir john full in the face, jemmy _improvised_- "the king, by merely laying sword on, could make a knight of jemmy gordon." at another time, petitioning a certain college dignitary for a few shillings to recover his clothes, pledged to appease his thirst, he said, on receiving the amount, "now, i know that my redeemer liveth." jemmy, in his _glorious days_, had been a good deal patronised by the late master of trinity college, bishop mansel, like himself a wit of the first water. jemmy one day called upon the bishop, during the time he filled the office of vice-chancellor, to beg half-a-crown. "i will give you as much," said the bishop, "if you can bring me a greater rogue than yourself." jemmy made his bow and departed, content with the condition, and had scarcely half crossed the great court of trinity, when he espied the late mr. b., then one of the esquire bedels of the university, scarcely less eccentric than himself. jemmy coolly told him that the vice-chancellor wanted to see him. into the lodge went our bedel, followed close by jemmy. "here he is," said jemmy, as they entered the bishop's presence, _arcades ambo_, at the same instant. "who?" inquired the bishop. "you told me, my lord," said jemmy, "to bring you a greater rogue than myself, and you would give me half-a-crown, and here he is." the bishop enjoyed the joke, and gave him the money. a somewhat similar story is told of an oxford wag, in addison's anecdotes, stating, that about the beginning of the eighteenth century, when it was more the fashion to drink ale at oxford than at present, a humorous fellow of merry memory established an ale-house near the pound, and wrote over his door, "ale sold by the pound!" as his ale was as good as his jokes, the oxonians resorted to his house in great numbers, and sometimes stayed there beyond the college hours. this was made a matter of complaint to the vice-chancellor, who was desired to take away his license by one of the proctors. boniface was summoned to attend accordingly, and when he came into the vice-chancellor's presence, he began hawking and spitting about the room. this the vice-chancellor observed, and asked what he meant by it? "please your worship," said he, "i came here on purpose to clear myself." the vice-chancellor imagining that he actually _weighed his ale_, said, "they tell me you sell ale by the pound; is that true?" "no, an' please your worship." "how do you, then?" "very well, i thank you, sir," said the wag, "how do you do?" the vice-chancellor laughed and said, "get away for a rogue; i'll say no more to you." the fellow went out, but in crossing the _quod_ met the proctor who had laid the information against him. "sir," said he, addressing the proctor, "the vice-chancellor wants to speak with you," and they went to the vice-chancellor's together. "here he is, sir," said boniface, as they entered the presence. "who?" inquired the vice. "why, sir," he rejoined, "you sent me for a rogue, and i have brought you the greatest that i know of." the result was, says the author of _terræ-filius_ (who gives a somewhat different version of the anecdote,) that boniface paid dear for his _jokes_: being not only deprived of his license, but committed to prison. * * * * * cambridge frolics. i recollect once being invited, with another cantab, to _bitch_ (as they say) with a scholar of bene't coll. and arrived there at the hour named to find the door _sported_ and our host out. we resolved, however, not to be _floored_ by a _quiz_, and having gained admission to his rooms per the window, we put a bold face upon matters, went straight to the buttery, and ordered "_coffee and muffins for two_," in his name. they came of course; and having feasted to our heart's content, we finished our revenge by hunting up all the _tallow_ we could lay hands on, which we cut up to increase the number, and therewith illuminated his rooms and beat a retreat as quick as possible. the college was soon in an uproar to learn the cause for such a display, and we had the pleasure of witnessing our _wag's_ chagrin thereat from a nook in the court. this anecdote reminds me of one told of himself and the late learned physician, dr. battie, by dr. morell. they were contemporary at eton, and afterwards went to king's college, cambridge, together. dr. battie's mother was his _jackall_ wherever he went, and, says dr. morell, she kindly recommended me and other scholars to a chandler at 4_s._ 6_d._ per dozen. but the candles proved dear even at that rate, and we resolved to vent our disappointment upon her son. we, accordingly, got access to battie's room, locked him out, and all the candles we could find in his box we lighted and stuck up round the room! and, whilst i thrummed on the spinnet, the rest danced round me in their shirts. upon battie's coming, and finding what we were at, he "fell to storming and swearing," says the doctor, "till the old vice-provost, dr. willymott, called out from above, 'who is swearing like a common soldier?' 'it is i,' quoth battle. 'visit me,' quoth the vice-provost. which, indeed, we were all obliged to do the next morning, with a distich, according to custom. mine naturally turned upon, 'so fiddled orpheus, and so danced the _brutes_;' which having explained to the vice-provost, he punished me and sleech with a few lines from the _epsilon_ of homer, and battie with the whole third book of milton, to get, as we say, by heart." another college scene, in which battie played a part, when a scholar at king's, is the following:-case of black rash, given on the authority of his old college _chum_, ralph thicknesse, who, like himself, became a fellow. there was then at king's college, says ralph, a very good-tempered six-feet-high parson, of the name of harry lofft, who was one of the college chanters, and the constant _butt_ of all both at commons and in the _parlour_. harry, says ralph, dreaded so much the sight of a gun or a pair of pistols, that such of his friends as did not desire too much of his company kept _fire-arms_ to keep him at _arm's length_. ralph was encouraged, by some of the fellows, he says (_juniors_ of course,) to make a serious joke out of harry's foible, and one day discharged a gun, loaded with powder, at our six-feet-high parson, as he was striding his way to prayers. the powder was coarse and damp and did not all burn, so that a portion of it lodged in harry's face. the fright and a little inflammation put the poor chanter to bed, says ralph. but he was not the only frightened party, for we were all much alarmed lest the _report_ should reach the vice-chancellor's ears, and the good-tempered hal was prevailed with to be _only ill_. battie and another, who were _not_ of the _shooting party_ (the only two fellow-students in physic,) were called to hal's assistance. they were _not_ told the real state of the case, and finding his pulse high, his spirits low, and his face inflamed and sprinkled with red spots, after a serious consultation they _prescribed_. on retiring from the sick man's room, they were forthwith examined on the state of the case by the impatient plotters of the wicked deed, to whose amusement both the disciples of galen pronounced hal's case to be the _black rash_! this, adds ralph, was a never-to-be-forgotten _roast_ for battie and banks in cambridge; and if we may add to this, that battie, in after life, sent his wife to bath for a _dropsy_, where she was shortly _tapped_ of a fine boy, it may give us a little insight into the _practice of physic_, and induce us to say with the poet- "better to search in fields for wealth unbought, than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught." the same ralph relates a humorous anecdote of the fate of the doctor's old grizzle wig. the doctor, says ralph, was as good a punch as he was a physician, and after he settled at uxbridge, in the latter character, where he first opened his _medical budget_, with the proceeds of his fellowship at king's college alone to depend on, ralph took advantage of a stay in london to ride over to see his old college chum and fellow-punster, and reached his _domus_ in the doctor's absence. ralph's wig was the worse for a shower of rain he had rode through, and, taking it off, desired the doctor's man, william, to bring him his master's _old grizzle_ to put on, whilst he dried and put a dust of powder into his. but ere this could be accomplished, the doctor returned, as fine as may be, in his _best tye_, kept especially for visiting his patients in. as soon as mutual greetings had passed, "why, zounds, ralph," exclaimed the doctor, "what a cursed wig you have got on!" "true," said ralph, taking it off as he spoke, "it is a bad one, and if you will, as i have another with me, i will toss it into the fire." "by all means," said the doctor, "for, in truth, it is a very _caxon_," and into the _fire_ went the fry. the doctor now began to skin his legs, and calling his man, william, "here," said he, taking off his tye, "bring me my old wig." "mr. thicknesse has got it," said william. "and where is it, ralph," said the doctor, turning upon his visiter. "_burnt_, as you desired; and this illustrates the spirit of all mankind," said ralph; "we can see the shabby wig, and feel the pitiful tricks of our friends, overlooking the disorder of our own wardrobes. as horace says, 'nil habeo quod agam;'--'mind every body's business but your own.'" talking of _gunpowder_ reminds me of two other shooting anecdotes. all who know anything of either oxford or cambridge scholars, know well enough, that their _manners_ are not only _well preserved_ at all seasons, but that when they are in a humour for sporting, it is of very little consequence whether other folk preserve their manners or not. when the late eccentric joshua waterhouse, b.d. (who was so barbarously murdered a few years since by joshua slade, in huntingdonshire,) was a student of catherine hall, cambridge, of which he became a fellow, he was a remarkably strong young man, some six feet high, and not easily frightened. he one day went out to shoot with another man of his college, and his favourite dog, sancho, had just made his first point, when a keeper came up and told joshua to take himself off, in no very classic english. joshua therefore declined compliance. upon this our keeper began to threaten. joshua thereupon laid his gun aside, and coolly began taking off his coat (or, as the fancy would say, to _peel_,) observing, "i came out for a day's sport, and a day's sport i'll have." upon which our keeper shot off, leaving joshua in possession of the field, from which he used to boast he carried off a full bag. at another time a party of oxonians, gamesomely inclined, were driving, _tandem_, for the neighbourhood of woodstock, when passing a stingy old _cur_, yclept a country gentleman, who had treated some one of the party a _shabby_ trick, a thought struck them that now was the hour for revenge. they drove in _bang up_ style to the front of the old man's mansion, and coolly told the servant, that they had just seen his master, who had desired them to say, that he was to serve them up a good dinner and wine, and in the meantime show them where the most game was to be found. this was done, and after a _roaring_ day's sport, and a full gorge of roast, baked and boiled, washed down with the best ale, port and sherry, the old boy's cellar could furnish, they made brazen-nose college, oxon, 8, p.m., much delighted with the result, and luckily the affair went no further, at the time at least. * * * * * bishop watson's own account of his progress at cambridge. "soon after the death of my father," says this learned prelate, in his autobiography, published in 1816, "i was sent to the university, and admitted a sizer of trinity college, cambridge, on the 3d of november, 1754. i did not know a single person in the university, except my tutor, mr. backhouse, who had been my father's scholar, and mr. preston, who had been my own school-fellow. i commenced my academic studies with great eagerness, from knowing that my future fortune was to be wholly of my own fabricating, being certain that the slender portion which my father had left to me (300_l._) would be barely sufficient to carry me through my education. i had no expectations from relations; indeed i had not a relative so near as a first cousin in the world, except my mother, and a brother and sister, who were many years older than me. my mother's maiden name was newton; she was a very charitable and good woman, and i am indebted to her (i mention it with filial piety) for imbuing my young mind with principles of religion, which have never forsaken me. erasmus, in his little treatise, entitled _antibarbarorum_, says, that the safety of states depend upon three things, _a proper or improper education of the prince, upon public preachers, and upon school-masters_; and he might with equal reason have added, _upon mothers_; for the code of the mother precedes that of the school-master, and may stamp upon the _rasa tabula_ of the infant mind, characters of virtue and religion which no time can efface. perceiving that the sizers were not so respectfully looked upon by the pensioners and scholars of the house as they ought to have been, inasmuch as the most learned and leading men of the university have even arisen from that order (_magister artis ingenique largitor venter_,) i offered myself for a scholarship a year before the usual time of the sizers sitting, and succeeded on the 2nd of may, 1757. this step increased my expenses in college, but it was attended with a great advantage. it was the occasion of my being particularly noticed by _dr. smith_, the master of the college. he was, from the examination he gave me, so well satisfied with the progress i had made in my studies, that out of the sixteen who were elected scholars, he appointed me to a particular one (lady jermyn's) then vacant, and in his own disposal; not, he said to me, as being better than other scholarships, but as a mark of his approbation; he recommended _saunderson's fluxions_, then just published, and some other mathematical books, to my perusal, and gave, in a word, a spur to my industry, and wings to my ambition. i had, at the time of my being elected a scholar, been resident in college two years and seven months, without having gone out of it for a single day. during that period i had acquired some knowledge of hebrew, greatly improved myself in greek and latin, made considerable progress in mathematics and natural philosophy, and studied with much attention locke's works, king's book on the origin of evil, puffendorf's treatise _de officio hominis et civis_, and some other books on similar subjects; i thought myself, therefore, entitled to some little relaxation. under this persuasion i set forward, may 30, 1757, to pay my elder and only brother a visit at kendal. he was the first curate of the new chapel there, to the structure of which he had subscribed liberally. he was a man of lively parts, but being thrown into a situation where there was no great room for the display of his talents, and much temptation to convivial festivity, he spent his fortune, injured his constitution, and died when i was about the age of thirty-three, leaving a considerable debt, all of which i paid immediately, though it took almost my all to do it. my mind did not much relish the country, at least it did not relish the life i led in that country town; the constant reflection that i was _idling away my time_ mixed itself with every amusement, and poisoned all the pleasures i had promised myself from the visit; i therefore took a hasty resolution of shortening it, and returned to college in the beginning of september, with a determined purpose to make my _alma mater_ the mother of my fortunes. _that_, i well remember, was the expression i used to myself, as soon as i saw the turrets of king's college chapel, as i was jogging on a jaded nag between huntingdon and cambridge. i was then only a _junior soph_; yet two of my acquaintances, the year below me, thought that i knew so much more of mathematics than they did, that they importuned me to become their private tutor. i undoubtedly wished to have had my time to myself, especially till i had taken my degree; but the narrowness of my circumstances, accompanied with a disposition to improve, or, more properly speaking, with a desire to appear respectable, induced me to comply with their request. from that period, for above thirty years of my life, and as long as my health lasted, a considerable portion of my time was spent in instructing others without much instructing myself, or in presiding at disputations in philosophy or theology, from which, after a certain time, i derived little intellectual improvement. whilst i was an under-graduate, i kept a great deal _of what is called_ the best company--that is, of idle fellow-commoners, and other persons of fortune--but their manners never subdued my prudence; i had strong ambition to be distinguished, and was sensible that wealth might plead some excuse for idleness, extravagance and folly in others; the want of wealth could plead more for me. when i used to be returning to my room at one or two in the morning, after spending a jolly evening, i often observed a light in the chamber of one of the same standing with myself; this never failed to excite my jealousy, and the next day was always a day of hard study. i have gone without my dinner a hundred times on such occasions. i thought i never entirely understood a proposition in any part of mathematics or natural philosophy, till i was able, in a solitary walk, _obstipo capite atque ex porrecto labello_, to draw the scheme in my head, and go through every step of the demonstration without book, or pen and paper. i found this was a very difficult task, especially in some of the perplexed schemes and long demonstrations of the twelfth book of _euclid_, and in _l'hôpital's_ conic sections, and in _newton's_ principia. my walks for this purpose were so frequent, that my tutor, not knowing what i was about, once reproved me for being a lounger. i never gave up a difficult point in a demonstration till i had made it out _proprio marte_; i have been stopped at a single step for three days. this perseverance in accomplishing whatever i undertook, was, during the whole of my active life, a striking feature in my character. but though i stuck close to abstract studies, i did not neglect other things; i every week imposed upon myself a task of composing a theme or declamation in latin or english. i generally studied mathematics in the morning, and classics in the afternoon; and used to get by heart such parts of orations, either in latin or greek, as particularly pleased me. demosthenes was the orator, tacitus the historian, and persius the satirist whom i most admired. i have mentioned this mode of study, not as thinking there was any thing extraordinary in it, since there were many under-graduates then, and have always been many in the university of cambridge, and, for aught i know, in oxford, too, who have taken greater pains. but i mention it because i feel a complacence in the recollections of days long since happily spent, _hoc est vivere bis vita posse priori frui_, and indulge in a hope, that the perusal of what i have written may chance to drive away the spirit of indolence and dissipation from young men; especially from those who enter the world with slender means, as i did. in january, 1759, i took my bachelor of arts' degree. the taking of this first degree is a great era in academic life; it is that to which all the under-graduates of talent and diligence direct their attention. there is no seminary of learning in europe in which youth are more zealous to excel during the first years of their education than in the university of cambridge. i was the second wrangler of my year. in september, 1759, i sat for a fellowship. at that time there never had been an instance of a fellow being elected from among the junior bachelors. the master told me this as an apology for my not being elected, and bade me be contented till the next year. on the 1st of october, 1760, i was elected a fellow of trinity college, and put over the head of two of my seniors of the same year, who were, however, elected the next year. the old master, whose memory i have ever revered, when he had done examining me, paid me this compliment, which was from him a great one:--'you have done your duty to the college; it remains for the college to do theirs to you.' i was elected the next day, and became assistant tutor to mr. backhouse in the following november." every body knows his subsequent career embraced his appointment to the several dignified university offices of tutor, moderator, professor of chemistry, and regius professor of divinity, and that he died bishop of llandaff. i may here, as an apposite tail piece, add from meadley's life of that celebrated scholar and divine, paley's sketch of his early academical life. in the year 1795, during one of his visits to cambridge, dr. paley, in the course of a conversation on the subject, gave the following account of the early part of his own academical life; and it is here given on the authority and in the very words of a gentleman who was present at the time, as a striking instance of the peculiar frankness with which he was in the habit of relating adventures of his youth. "i spent the two first years of my under-graduateship (said he) happily, but unprofitably. i was constantly in society where we were not immoral, but idle and rather expensive. at the commencement of my third year, however, after having left the usual party at rather a late hour in the evening, i was awakened at five in the morning by one of my companions, who stood at my bedside and said, 'paley, i have been thinking what a d--d fool you are. i could do nothing, probably, were i to try, and can afford the life i lead: you can do every thing, and cannot afford it. i have had no sleep during the whole night on account of these reflections, and am now come solemnly to inform you, that, if you persist in your indolence, i must renounce your society.' i was so struck (continued paley) with the visit and the visiter, that i lay in bed great part of the day and formed my plan: i ordered my bed-maker to prepare my fire every evening, in order that it might be lighted by myself; i rose at five, read during the whole of the day, except such hours as chapel and hall required, allotting each portion of time its peculiar branch of study; and, just before the closing of gates (nine o'clock) i went to a neighbouring coffee-house, where i constantly regaled upon a mutton-chop and a dose of milk punch: and thus on taking my bachelor's degree, i became _senior wrangler_." he, too, filled the trustworthy and dignified office of tutor of his college, and deserved, though he did not die in possession of, a bishopric. * * * * * the lounger. by an oxonian. i rise about nine, get to breakfast by ten, blow a tune on my flute, or perhaps make a pen; read a play till eleven, or cock my laced hat; then step to my neighbours, till dinner, to chat. dinner over, to _tom's_, or to _james's_ i go, the news of the town so impatient to know, while _law_, _locke_ and _newton_, and all the rum race, that talk of their nodes, their ellipses, and space, the seat of the soul, and new systems on high, in holes, as abstruse as their mysteries, lie. from the coffee-house then i to tennis away, and at five i post back to my college to pray: i sup before eight, and secure from all duns, undauntedly march to the _mitre_ or _tuns_; where in punch or good claret my sorrows i drown, and toss off a bowl "to the best in the town:" at one in the morning i call what's to pay, then home to my college i stagger away; thus i tope all the night, as i trifle all day. * * * * * an oxford hoax and a puritan detected. a certain oxford d.d. at the head of a college, lately expected a party of maiden ladies, his sisters and others, to visit him from the country. they were strangers in oxford, therefore, like another bayard, he was anxious to meet them on their arrival and _gallant_ them to his college. this, however, was to him, so little accustomed _to do the polite to the ladies_, an absolute event, and it naturally formed his _prime_ topic of conversation for a month previously. this provoked some of the fellows of his college to _put a hoax upon him_, the most forward in which was one mr. h----, a _puritan_ forsooth. accordingly, a note was concocted and sent to the doctor, in the name of the ladies, announcing, that they _had arrived at_ the _inn in oxford_. "the inn!" exclaimed the doctor, on perusing it; "good god! how am i to know _the_ inn?" however, after due preparation, off he set, in full canonicals, hunting for his belles and _the_ inn! the star, mitre, angel, all were searched; at last, the doctor, both tired and irritated, began to smell a rat! the idea of a hoax flashed upon his mind; he hurried to his lodgings, at his college, where the whole truth flashed upon him like a _new light_, and the window of his room being open, which overlooked the fellows' garden, he saw a group of them rubbing their hands in high glee, and the ringleader, mr. h----, in the midst: he was so roused at the sight, that, leaning from the window, he burst out with--"h----! you puritanical son of a bitch!" it is needless to add, that the words, acting like a charm, quickly dissolved their council: but the doctor, too amiable to remember what was not meant as an affront, himself afterwards both joined in and enjoyed the laugh created by the joke. * * * * * more than one good saying is attributed to the non-juring divine, celebrated son of oxon, and excellent english historian, thomas carte, who, falling under the suspicions of the government, as a favourer of the pretender, was imprisoned at the time the habeas corpus act was suspended, in 1744. whilst under examination by the privy council, the celebrated duke of newcastle, then minister, asked him, "if he were not a bishop?" "no, my lord duke," replied carte, "there are no bishops in england, but what are made by your grace; and i am sure i have no reason to expect that honour." walking, soon after he was liberated, in the streets of london, during a heavy shower of _rain_, he was plied with, "a coach, your reverence?" "no, honest friend," was his answer, "this is not a _reign_ for me to ride in." * * * * * horace walpole a saint. cole says, in his _athenæ cant._, that horace walpole latterly lived and died a sceptic; but when a student at king's college, cambridge, he was of "a religious enthusiastic turn of mind, and used to go with ashton (the late dr., master of jesus college,) his then great friend, to pray with the prisoners in the castle." dyer gives the following poetical version of a cambridge conundrum, in his supplement, on doctors _long_, _short_, and _askew_:- or ct what's doctor, and dr., and do writ so? doctor long, doctor short, and doctor _askew_. * * * * * a bishop's interest. bishop porteus said of himself, when holding the see of chester, that he "had not interest enough to command a cheshire cheese." * * * * * oxford famous for its sophists. "for sophistry, such as you may call corrupt and vain," says wood, in the first volume of his annals, "which we had derived from the parisians, oxford hath in ancient time been very famous, especially when many thousands of students were in her, equalling, if not exceeding, that university from whence they had it; a token of which, with its evil consequences, did lately remain,--i mean the quadragesimall exercises, which were seldom performed, or at least _finished without the help of mars_. in the reign of henry the third, and before, the schools were much polluted with it, and became so notorious, that it corrupted other arts; and so would it afterwards have continued, had it not been corrected by public authority for the present, though in following times it increased much again, that it could not be rooted out. some there were that wrote, others that preached against it, demonstrating the evil consequences thereof, and the sad end of those that delighted in it. jacobus januensis reports that one mr. silo, a master of the university of paris, and professor of logic, had a scholar there, with whom he was very familiar: and being excellent in the art of sophistry, spared not all occasions, whether festival or other day, to study it. this sophister being sick, and almost brought to death's door, master silo earnestly desired him, that after his death he would return to him and give him information concerning his state, and how it fared with him. the sophister dying, returned according to promise, with his hood stuffed with notes of sophistry, and the inside lined with flaming fire, telling him, that that was the reward which he had bestowed upon him for the renown he had before for sophistry; but mr. silo esteeming it a small punishment, stretched out his hand towards him, on which a drop or spark of the said fire falling, was very soon pierced through with terrible pain; which accident the defunct or ghost beholding, told silo, that he need not wonder at that small matter, for he was burning in that manner all over. is it so? (saith silo) well, well, i know what i have to do. whereupon, resolving to leave the world, and enter himself into religion, called his scholars about him, took his leave of, and dismissed them with these metres:- 'linquo coax[3] ranis, cras[4] corvis, vanaque[5] vanis, ad logicam pergo, que mortis non timet[6] ergo.' which said story coming to the knowledge of certain oxonians, about the year 1173 (as an obscure note which i have seen tells me,) it fell out, that as one of them was answering for his degree in his school, which he had hired, the opponent dealt so maliciously with him, that he stood up and spake before the auditory thus: 'profectò, profectò, &c.' 'truly, truly, sir sophister, if you proceed thus, i protest before this assembly i will not answer; pray, sir, remember mr. silo's scholar at paris,'--intimating thereby, that if he did not cease from vain babblings, purgatory, or a greater punishment, should be his end. had such examples been often tendered to them (adds wood, with real bowels of compassion,) as they were to the parisians, especially that which happened to one simon churney, or thurney, or tourney (fuller says, thurway, a cornish man,) an english theologist there (who was suddenly struck dumb, because he vainly gloried that he, in his disputations, could be equally for or against the divine truth,) it might have worked more on their affections; but this being a single relation, it could not long be wondered at." after these _logical marvels_, anthony gives us the following instance of [3] luxuriam scil. luxuriosis, vel potius rixas sophistis. [4] avaritiam scil. avaris. [5] superbiam pomposis. [6] religionem ubi bene viventi non timetur stimulus mortis. a vice-chancellor's being laconic. "dr. prideaux, when he resigned the office of vice-chancellor, 22nd july, 1626 (which is never done without an oration spoken from the chair in the convocation, containing for the most part an account of the acts done in the time of their magistrateship,) spoke only the aforesaid metres, 'linquo coax,' &c., supposing there was more matter in them than the best speech he could make, frustrating thereby the great hopes of the academicians of an eloquent oration." "oxford hath been so famous for sophistry, and hath used such a particular way in the reading and learning it," adds wood, in treating of the schools, "that it hath often been styled-'sophistria secundum usum oxon.' so famous, also, for subtlety of logicians, that no place hath excelled it." this great subtlety, however, would seem, in a degree, to have departed from our sister of oxford in 1532, when, they say, two pert oxonians took a journey to cambridge, and challenged any to dispute with them there, in the public schools, on the two following questions:--"_an jus civile sit medicina præstantius?_" in english as much as to say, _which does most execution, civil law or medicine?_--a nice point, truly. but the other formed the subject of serious argumentation, and ran thus:--"_an mulier condemnata, bis ruptis loqueis, sit tertio suspendenda?_" ridley, the bishop and martyr, then a young man, student or fellow of pembroke hall, cambridge, is said to have been one of the opponents on this interesting occasion, and administered the _flagellæ linguæ_ with such happy effect to one of these pert pretenders to logic lore, that the other durst not set his wit upon him. the oxford sophistry had so much corrupted the latin tongue there, says wood, that the purity thereof being lost among the scholars, "their speaking became barbarous, and derived so constantly to their successors, that barbarous speaking of latin was commonly styled by many 'oxoniensis loquenti mos.' the latin of the schools, in the present day, is none of the purest at either university. a certain cambridge divine, a professor, who was a senior wrangler, and is justly celebrated for his learning and great ability, one day presiding at an act in arts, upon a dog straying into the school, and putting in for a share of the logic with a howl at the audience, the moderator exclaimed, "_verte canem ex_." there have, however, been fine displays of pure latinity in the schools of both; and it appears the oxonians surpassed aristotle at a very early period, not only in the art of logic itself, but in their manner of applying it: for in the beginning of 1517, says wood, about the latter end of lent (a fatal time for the most part to the oxonians,) a sore discord fell out between the cistercian and benedictine monks, concerning several philosophical points discussed by them in the schools. but their arguments being at length flung aside, they decided the controversy by blows, which, with sore scandal, continued a considerable time. at length the benedictines rallying up what forces they could procure, they beset the cistercians, and by force of arms made them fly and betake themselves to their hostels. in fact, he says, by the use of logic, and the trivial arts, the oxford sophists, in the time of lent, broke the king's peace, so that the university privileges were several times suspended, and in danger of being lessened or taken away. through the corrupt use of it, "the parva logicalia, and other minute matters of aristotle, many things of that noble author have been so changed from their original, by the screwing in and adding many impertinent things, that tho. nashe (in his book, 'have at you to saffron walden,') hath verily thought, that if aristotle had risen out of his grave, and disputed with the sophisters, they would not only have baffled him with their sophistry, but with his own logic, which they had disguised, and he composed without any impurity or corruption. it may well be said, that in this day they have done no more than what tom nashe's beloved dick harvey did afterwards at cambridge, that is to say, he set aristotle with his heels upwards on the school gates, with ass's ears on his head,--a thing that tom would 'in perpetuam rei memoriam,' record and never have done with. wilson, in his _memorabilia cantabrigiæ_, says of this said tom nash, that he was educated at st. john's college, cambridge, where he resided seven years, was at the fatal repast of the pickled herrings with the poet green, and, in 1597, was either confined or otherwise troubled for a comedy on _the isle of dogs_ (extant in the mss. of oldys,) though he wrote but the first act, and the players without his knowledge supplied the rest. he was a man of humour, a bitter satirist, and no contemptible poet; and more effectually discouraged and non-plused the notorious anti-prelate and astrologer, will harvey, and his adherents, than all the serious writers that attacked them. there is a good character of him, says oldys, in _the return from parnassus, or scourge of simony_, which was publicly acted by the students of st. john's, in 1606, wherein they first exemplified the art of cutting, an elegant term, that is in equal request at the sister university, as well as amongst the coxcombs of the day, adds wilson, though the members of st. john's are celebrated for the _origin_ of the term "_to cut_,"--_i. e._ "to look an old friend in the face, and affect not to know him," which is the _cut direct_. those who would be more deeply read in this art, which has been greatly improved since the days in which it originated, will find it at large in the _gradus ad cantabrigiam_. * * * * * cromwell's soldiers at a disputation at oxford. it was a custom of dr. kettel, while president of trinity college, oxford (says tom warton, citing the mss. of dr. bathurst, in his appendix to his life of sir thomas pope,) "to attend daily the disputations in the college-hall, on which occasions he constantly wore a large black furred muff. before him stood an hour-glass, brought by himself into the hall, and placed on the table, for ascertaining the time of the continuance of the exercise, which was to last an hour at least. one morning, after cromwell's soldiers had taken possession of oxford, a halberdier rushed into the hall during this controversy, and plucking off our venerable doctor's muff, threw it in his face, and then, with a stroke of his halberd, broke the hour-glass in pieces. the doctor, though old and infirm, instantly seized the soldier by the collar, who was soon overpowered, by the assistance of the disputants. the halberd was carried out of the hall in triumph before the doctor; but the prisoner, with his halberd, was quickly rescued by a party of soldiers, who stood at the bottom of the hall, and had enjoyed the whole transaction." it was in the grove of this college, during monmouth's rebellion of 1685, that sir philip bertie, a younger son of robert earl of lindsay, who was a member of trinity college, and had spoken a copy of verses in the theatre at oxford, in 1683, to the duke and dutchess a york, &c., trained a company, chiefly of his own college, of which he was captain, in the militia of the university. troops being raised by the university of oxford, says warton, in monmouth's rebellion. it reminds me of a curious anecdote concerning smith's famous ode, entitled pocockius, which i give from mss., cod. balland, vol. xix. lit. 104:--"the university raised a regiment for the king's service, and christ church and jesus' colleges made one company, of which lord morris, since earl of abingdon, was captain, who presented mr. urry (the editor of chaucer,) a corporal (serjeant) therein, with a halberd. upon dr. pocock's death, mr. urry lugged captain rag (smith) into his chamber in peckwater, locked him in, put the key in his pocket, and ordered his bed-maker to supply him with necessaries through the window, and told him he should not come out till he made a copy of verses on the doctor's death. the sentence being irreversible, the captain made the ode, and sent it, with his epistle, to mr. urry, who thereupon had his release." "the epistle here mentioned," adds tom, "is a ludicrous prose analysis of the ode, beginning _opusculum tuum, halberdarie amplissime_," &c., and is printed in the fourth volume of dr. johnson's english poets, who pronounces it _unequalled_ by modern writers. this same oxonian, smith, had obtained the _soubriquet_ of captain rag by his negligence of dress. he was bred at westminster school, under doctor busby; and it is to be remembered, for his _honour_, "that, when at the westminster election he stood a candidate for one of the universities, he so signally distinguished himself by his conspicuous performances, that there arose no small contention between the representatives of trinity college in cambridge, and christ church in oxon, which of those two royal societies should adopt him as their own. but the electors of trinity having a preference of choice that year, they resolutely elected him; who yet, being invited the same time to christ church, he chose to accept of a studentship there." * * * * * the three dainty morsels. when our learned oxonian, dr. johnson, was on his tour in the hebrides, accompanied by bozzy, as peter pindar has it, says an american writer, they had one day travelled so far without refreshment, that the doctor began to _growl_ in his best manner. upon this bozzy hastened to a cottage at a distance, ordered a dinner, and was lucky in obtaining the choice of a roast leg of mutton and the doctor's favourite plum-pudding. upon reaching the house, the appetite of the latter drove him into the kitchen to inspect progress, where he saw a boy basting the meat, from whose head he conceited he saw _something_ descend, by the force of _gravity_, into the dripping-pan. the meat was at length served up, and bozzy attacked it with great glee, exclaiming, "my dear doctor, do let me help you to some,--brown as a berry,--done to a turn." the doctor said he would wait for the pudding, chuckling with equal glee, whilst bozzy nearly devoured the whole joint. the pudding at length came, done to a turn too, which the doctor in his turn greedily devoured, without so much as asking bozzy to a bit. after he had wiped his mouth, and begun to compose himself, bozzy entreated to know what he was giggling about whilst he eat the mutton? the doctor clapped his hands to both sides for support, as he told him what he saw in the kitchen. bozzy thereupon begun to exhibit sundry qualms and queer faces, and calling in the boy, exclaimed, "you rascal, why did you not cover your dirty head with your cap when basting the meat?" "'cause mother took it to boil the pudding in!" said the urchin. the tables were turned. the doctor stared aghast, stamped, and literally roared, with a voice of thunder, that if bozzy ever named the circumstance to any one, it should bring down upon him his eternal displeasure! the following, not very dissimilar anecdote, is told of a cantab, who was once out hunting till his appetite became as keen as the doctor's, and, like his, drove him to the nearest cottage. the good dame spread before him and his friend the contents of her larder, which she described as "a _meat_ pie, made of odds and ends, the remnant of their own frugal meal." "any thing is better than nothing," cried the half famished cantab, "so let us have it--ha, bob." bob, who was another cantab, his companion, nodded assent. no sooner was the savoury morsel placed before him, than he commenced operations, and greedily swallowed mouthful after mouthful, exclaiming, "charming! i never tasted a more delicious morsel in my life! but what have we here?" said he, as he sucked something he held in both hands; "_fish_, as well as flesh, my good woman?" "fish!" cried the old dame, as she turned from her washing to eye our sportsman, "why, lord bless ye, i' that bean't our billy's _comb_!" the effect was not a little ludicrous on our hungry cantab, whilst bob's "haw! haw! haw!" might have been heard from the thames tunnel to nootka sound. * * * * * answered in kind. why should we smother a good thing with _mystifying dashes_, instead of plain english high-sounding names, when the subject is of "honourable men?" "_recte facta refert._"--horace forbid it! the learned chancery barrister, john bell, k.c., "_the great bell of lincoln_," as he has been aptly called, was _senior wrangler_, on graduating b.a., at trinity college, cambridge, in 1786, with many able competitors for that honour. he is likewise celebrated, as every body knows, for writing three several hands; one only he himself can read, another nobody but his clerk can read, and a third neither himself, clerk, nor any body else can read! it was in the latter hand he one day wrote to his legal contemporary and friend, the present sir launcelot shadwell, vice-chancellor of england (who is likewise a cantab, and graduated in 1800 at st. john's college, of which he became a fellow, with the double distinction of seventh wrangler and second chancellor's medallist) inviting him to dinner. sir launcelot, finding all his attempts to decipher the note about as vain as the wise men found theirs to unravel the cabalistic characters of yore, took a sheet of paper, and having _smeared_ it over with ink, he folded and sealed it, and sent it as his answer. the receipt of it staggered even the great bell of lincoln, and after breaking the seal, and eyeing and turning it round and round, he hurried to mr. shadwell's chambers with it, declaring he could make nothing of it. "nor i of your note," retorted mr. s. "my dear fellow," exclaimed mr. b., taking his own letter in his hand, is not this, as plain as can be, "dear shadwell, i shall be glad to see you at dinner to-day." "and is not this equally as plain," said mr. s., pointing to his own paper, "my dear bell, i shall be happy to come and dine with you." * * * * * powers of digestion. in both oxford and cambridge the cooks are restricted to a certain sum each term, beyond which the college will not protect them in their demand upon the students. all else are _extras_, and are included in "_sizings_" in cambridge; in oxford the term is "_to battel_." the head of a college in the latter university, not long since, sent for mr. p----, one of his society, who had _batteled_ much beyond the allowance; and after mr. p---had endeavoured to excuse himself on the ground of appetite, turning to the account, the rector observed, "_meat_ for breakfast, _meat_ for lunch, _meat_ for dinner, _meat_ for supper," and looking up in the face of the dismayed student, he exclaimed, with his welsh accent, "christ jesus! mr. p----, what guts you must have." this reminds me of a cambridge d.d., now no more, who is said to have been a great gourmand, and weighed something less than thirty stone, but not much. at the college table, where our d.d. daily took his meal, in order that he might the better put his hand upon the dainty morsels, being very corpulent, he caused a piece to be scooped out, to give him a fair chance. his chair was also so placed, that his belly was three inches from the table at sitting down, and when he had eaten till he touched it, his custom was to lay down his knife and fork and desist, lest, by eating too much, any dangerous malady should ensue. a waggish fellow of his college, however, one day removed his chair double the distance from the table, which the doctor not observing, began to eat as usual. after taking more than his _quantum_, and finding that he was still an inch or two from the _goal_, he threw down his knife and fork in despair, exclaiming, he "was sure he was going to die;" but having explained the reason, he was relieved of his fears on hearing the joke had been played him. * * * * * the inside passenger. every cantab of the nineteenth century must remember our friend smith of the blue boar, trinity street, charioteer of that now _defunct_ vehicle and pair which used to ply between cambridge, new-market, and bury st. edmunds, and on account of its _celerity, and other marked qualities_, was called "_the slow and dirty_" by freshman, soph, bachelor, and big-wig, now metamorphosed into a handsome four-in-hand, over which our friend smith presides in a style worthy of _the club itself_! he had one day, in olden time, pulled up at botsham, midway between newmarket and cambridge, when there happened to be several cantabs on the road, who were refreshing their nags at the "self-same" inn, the swan, at which _the slow and dirty_ made its daily halt. "any passengers?" inquired smith. "one inside," said a cambridge wag, standing by, whose eye was the moment caught by a young ass feeding on the nettles in a neighbouring nook. having put his fellows up to the joke, smith was invited in-doors and treated with a glass of grog; meanwhile, my gentleman with the long ears was popped inside the coach. smith coming out, inquired after his passenger, whom he supposed one of his friends, the cantabs, and learnt he was housed. "all right," said smith, and off he drove, followed quickly by our wag and party on horseback, who determined to be in at the _denouement_. smith had not made much way, when our inside passenger, not finding himself _in clover_, popped his head out at one of the coach windows. the spectacle attracted the notice of many _bipeds_ as they passed along; smith, however, notwithstanding their laughter, "kept the even tenor of his way." at barnwell the boys _huzzaed_ with more than their usual greetings, but still smith kept on, unconscious of the cause. he no sooner made jesus' lane, than crowds began to follow in his wake, and he dashed into the blue-boar yard with _a tail_ more numerous than that upon the shoulders of which dan o'connell rode into the first reformed parliament, feargus included. down went the reins, as the ostlers came to the head of his smoking _prads_, and smith was in a moment at the coach door, with one hand instinctively upon the latch, and the other raised to his hat, when the whole truth flashed upon his astonished eyes, and balaam was safely landed, amidst peals of laughter, in which our friend smith was not the least _uproarious_. * * * * * paley's celebrated school act. when paley, in 1762, kept his act in the schools, previously to his entering the senate-house, to contend for mathematical honours, it was under the moderators, dr. john jebb, the famous physician and advocate of reform in church and state, and the learned dr. richard watson, late bishop of llandaff. _johnson's questiones philosophicæ_ was the book then commonly resorted to in the university for subjects usually disputed of in the _schools_; and he fixed upon two questions, in addition to his mathematical one, which to his knowledge had never before been subjects of _disputation_. the one was _against capital punishments_; the other _against the eternity of hell torments_. as soon, however, as it came to the knowledge of the heads of the university that paley had proposed such questions to the moderators, knowing his abilities, though young, lest it should give rise to a controversial spirit, the master of his college, dr. thomas, was requested to interfere and put a stop to the proceeding, which he did, and bishop watson thus records the fact in his autobiography:--"paley had brought me, for one of the questions he meant for his act, _æternitas pænarum contradicit divinis attributis_! the eternity of hell torments contrary to the divine attributes. i had accepted it. a few days afterwards he came to me in a great fright, saying, that the master of his college, dr. thomas, dean of ely, insisted on his not keeping on such a question. i readily permitted him to change it, and told him that, if it would lessen his master's apprehensions, he might put a '_non_' before '_contradicit_;' making the question, the eternity of hell torments _not_ contrary to the divine _attributes_: and he did so." in the following month of january he was senior wrangler. he was not fond of classical studies, and used to declare he could read no latin author with pleasure but virgil: yet when the members' prize was awarded to him for a _latin_ prose essay, in 1765, which he had illustrated with _english_ notes, he was, strange enough, though his disregard of the classics was well known, suspected of being the author of the _latin only_. the reverse was probably nearer the truth. it is notorious that he was not skilled in prosody; and when, in 1795, he proceeded to d.d., after being made sub-dean of lincoln, he, in the delivery of his _clerum_, pronounced prof[)u]gus prof[=u]gus, which gave some cambridge wag occasion to fire at him the following epigram:- "italiam fato _profugus_, lavinaque venit litora; * * * * * errat virgilius, forte _profugus_ erat." he had a spice of cutting humour in his composition, and some time after the bishop of durham so honourably and unsolicited presented him to the valuable living of bishop wearmouth, dining with his lordship in company with an aged divine, the latter observed in conversation, "that although he had been married about forty years, he had never had the slightest difference with his wife." the prelate was pleased at so rare an instance of connubial felicity, and was about to compliment his guest thereon, when paley, with an arch "_quid?_" observed, "don't you think it must have been very flat, my lord?" a rule of his. a writer, recording his _on dits_, in the new monthly magazine, says, in paley's own words, he made it a rule never to buy a book that he wanted to read but once. in more than one respect, he was unlike dr. parr. the latter had a great admiration for the _canonical dress_ of his order, and freely censured the practice of clergymen not generally appearing in it. when on a visit to his friend, the celebrated mr. roscoe, at that gentleman's residence near liverpool, parr used to ride through the village in full costume, including his famous wig, to the no small amusement of the rustics, and chagrin of his companion, the present amiable and learned thomas roscoe, originator and editor of "the landscape annual," &c. paley wore a white wig, and a coat cut in the close court style: but could never be brought to patronise, at least in the country, that becoming part of the dress of a dignitary of the church, a _cassock_, which he used to call a black apron, such as the master tailors wear in durham. he was never a good horseman. "when i followed my father," he says, "on a pony of my own, on my first journey to cambridge, i fell off seven times. my father, on hearing a thump, would turn his head half aside, and say, 'take care of thy money, lad!'" this defect he never overcame: for when advanced in years, he acknowledged he was still so bad a horseman, "that if any man on horseback were to come near me when i am riding," he would say, "i should certainly have a fall; company would take off my attention, and i have need of all i can command to manage my horse, the quietest creature that ever lived; one that, at carlisle, used to be covered with children from the ears to the tail." his two or three reasons for exchanging livings. meadly, his biographer, relates, that when asked why he had exchanged his living of dalston for stanwix? he frankly replied, "sir, i have two or three reasons for taking stanwix in exchange: first, it saved me double housekeeping, as stanwix was within twenty minutes' walk of my house in carlisle; secondly, it was 50_l._ a-year more in value; and, thirdly, i began to find my stock of sermons coming over again too fast." he was a disciple of izaak walton, and carried his passion for angling so far, that when romney took his portrait, he would be taken with a rod and line in his hand. his way when he wanted to write. "when residing at carlisle," he says, "if i wanted to write any thing particularly well, i used to order a post-chaise, and go to a quiet comfortable inn, at longtown, where i was safe from the trouble and bustle of a family, and there i remained until i had finished what i was about." in this he was a contrast to dr. goldsmith, who, when he meditated his incomparable poem of the "deserted village," went into the country, and took a lodging at a farm-house, where he remained several weeks in the enjoyment of rural ease and picturesque scenery, but could make no progress in his work. at last he came back to a lodging in green-arbour court, opposite newgate, and there, in a comparatively short time, in the heart of the metropolis, surrounded with all the antidotes to ease, he completed his task--_quam nullum ultra verbum_. paley's difficulties a useful lesson to youth. soon after he became senior wrangler, having no immediate prospect of a fellowship, he became an assistant in a school at greenwich, where, he says, i pleased myself with the imagination of the delightful task i was about to undertake, "teaching the young idea how to shoot." as soon as i was seated, a little urchin came up to me and began,--"_b_-_a_-_b_, bab, _b_-_l_-_e_, ble, babble!" nevertheless, at this time, the height of his ambition was to become the first assistant. during this period, he says, he restricted himself for some time to the mere necessaries of life, in order that he might be enabled to discharge a few debts, which he had incautiously contracted at cambridge. "my difficulties," he observes, "might afford a useful lesson to youth of good principles; for my privations produced a habit of economy which was of infinite service to me ever after." at this time i wanted a waistcoat, and went into a second-hand clothes-shop. it so chanced that i bought the very same garment that lord clive wore when he made his triumphal entry into calcutta. in his poverty he was like parr. the finances of the latter obliged him to leave cambridge _without_ a degree; after he had been assistant at harrow, had a school at stanmore, and been head master of the grammar school at colchester, and had become head master of that of norwich, they remained so low that once looking upon a small library, says mr. field, in his life of the doctor, "his eye was caught by the title, 'stephani thesaurus linguæ græcæ,' turning suddenly about, and striking violently the arm of the person whom he addressed, in a manner very unusual with him, 'ah! my friend, my friend,' he exclaimed, 'may _you_ never be forced, as _i_ was at norwich, to sell that work--to _me_ so precious--from absolute and urgent necessity!'" "at one time of my life," he said, "i had but 14_l._ in the world. but then, i had good spirits, and owed no man sixpence!" porson, too, was a contrast to paley. the first, it is well known, vacated his fellowship, and left himself pennyless, rather than subscribe to the _thirty-nine articles_, from which there is no doubt he conscientiously dissented; and when asked to subscribe his belief in the notorious shakspeare _forgery_ of the irelands, his reply was, "i subscribe to no articles of faith." when paley was solicited to sign his name to the supplication of the petitioning clergy, for _relief from subscription_, he has the credit of replying, he "_could not afford to keep a conscience_," a saying that many have cherished to the prejudice of that great man's memory, but which it is more than probable he said in his dry, humorous manner, without suspicion it would be remembered at all, and merely to rid himself of some importunate applicant. paley, it is well known, notwithstanding the conclusions to which some interested writers have come, was strongly and conscientiously attached to the doctrines and constitution of the established church; and it was impossible but that, with his fine common-sense perception, he must have been well aware, that no _established church_, such as is that of england, could long exist as such, _if not fenced round by articles of faith_. and here i am reminded of an anecdote of the great lord burleigh and the dissenters of his day. he was once very much pressed by a body of divines, says collins, in his life, to make some _alteration in the liturgy_, upon which he desired them to go into the next room by themselves, and bring in their _unanimous opinion on the disputed points_. but they very soon returned _without being able to agree_. "why, gentlemen," said he, "how can you expect that i should alter my point in dispute, when you, who must be more competent to judge, from your situation, than i can possibly be, cannot agree among yourselves in what manner you would have me alter it." other sayings of this great man were, that he would "never truste anie man not of sounde religion; for he that is false to god, can never be true to man." parents, he said, were to be blamed for "the unthrifty looseness of youth," who made them men seven years too soon, and when they "had but children's judgments." "warre is the curse, and peace the blessinge of a countrie;" and "a realme," he said, "gaineth more by one year's peace, than by tenne years' warre." "that nation," he would observe, "was happye where the king would take counsell and follow it." with such a sage minister, it is not surprising that elizabeth was the greatest princess that ever lived, nor that she gave such wise laws to cambridge, whose chancellor he was. porson's progress in knowledge. "when i was seventeen," porson once observed, "i thought i knew every thing; as soon as i was twenty-four, and had read bentley, i found i knew nothing. now i have challenged the great scholars of the age to find _five_ faults to their _one_, in any work, ancient or modern, they decline it." on another occasion, he described himself as a gentleman without sixpence in his pocket. person declining to enter into holy orders, as the statute of his college required he should do, lost his fellowship at trinity, after he had enjoyed it ten years; "on which heart-rending occasion," says his friend and admirer, dr. kidd, "he used to observe, with his usual good humour (for nothing could depress him,) that he was _a gentleman living in london without a sixpence in his pocket_." two years afterwards his friends procured his election to the regius professorship of greek, on the death of professor cooke, the sudden news of which event, he says, in a letter printed in parriana, addressed to the then master of trinity, the learned dr. postlethwaite, all his ambition of that sort having been long ago laid asleep, "put me in mind of poor jacob, who, having served seven years in hope of being rewarded with rachel, awoke, and behold it was leah." he had seven years previously projected a course of lectures in greek, which most unaccountably were not patronised by the senate. * * * * * greek protestants at oxford. mr. pointer says, in his _oxoniensis academia, &c._, speaking of the curiosities connected with worcester college, there were "ruins of a royal palace, built by king henry the first, in beaumont, near gloucester-green, upon some parts of which ruins, the late dr. woodroff (when principal of gloucester hall, now worcester college) built lodgings for the education of young scholars from greece, who, after they had been here educated in the reformed religion, were to be sent back to their own country, in order to propagate the same there. and accordingly some young grecians were brought hither, and wore their grecian habits; but not finding suitable encouragement, this project came to nothing." * * * * * judgment of erasmus on the cambridge folk. fuller says, that erasmus thus wrote of the cambridge folk, at the beginning of the sixteenth century. "vulgus cantabrigiense, inhospitales britannos antecedit, qui cum summa rusticitate summum militiam conjunxere." this will by no means _now_ apply to the better class of tradespeople, and in no place that i know of is there more hospitality amongst the higher orders of society. kirk white, in his letters, is not very complimentary either to bedmakers or gyps. the latter are called _scouts_ in oxford, and their office borders on what is generally understood by the word _valet_. the term _gyp_ is well applied from [greek: gyps], a _vulture_, they being, in the broadest sense of the word, addicted to _prey_, and not over-scrupulous at both _picking_ and _stealing_, in spite of the decalogue. i had one evening had a _wine party_, during the warm season of the year; we drank freely, and two of the party taking possession of my bed, i contented myself with the sofa. about six in the morning the _gyp_ came into the room to collect boots, &c. and either not seeing me, or fancying i slept (the wine being left on the table,) he very coolly filled himself a glass, which he lost no time in raising to his lips, but ere he had swallowed a drop, having watched his motions, i _whistled_ (significant of recognition,) and down went the wine, glass and all, and out bolted our _gyp_, who _actually blushed_ the next time he saw me. another anecdote touching lodging-house keepers, i will head drops of brandy. a certain mistress of a lodging-house, in green-street, cambridge, where several students had rooms, having a propensity, not for the _ethereal_ charms of the music so called, but for the invigorating liquor itself, had a habit, with the assistance of what is called a _screw-driver_, but which might more aptly be termed a _screw-drawer_, of opening cupboard doors without resorting to the ordinary use of a key. by this means she had one day abstracted a bottle of brandy from the store of one of the students (now a barrister of some practice and standing,) with which, the better to consume it in undisturbed dignity, she retired to the temple of the goddess cloacina. she had been missed for some time, and search was made, when she was found _half seas over_, as they say, with the remnant of the bottle still grasped in her hand, which she had plied so often to her mouth, that she was unable to lift her hand so high, or indeed to rise from her _seditious_ posture. upon this scene a caricature of the first water was sketched, and circulated by some cambridge wag; another threw off the following epigrammatic conun: why is my dalia like a rose? perhaps, you'll say, because her breath is sweeter than the flowers of earth: no--odious thought--it is, her nose is redder than the reddest rose; which she has long been very handy at colouring with _drops of brandy_. another head of a lodging-house is a notorious member of what in cambridge is called-the dirty-shirt club. this is a society that has existed in the town of cambridge for ages, whose functions consist in _wearing the linen of the students who lodge in their houses after it has been cast off for the laundress_. this same individual, however, had a taste for higher game, and one of the students, who had rooms in his house, being called to london for a few days, returning rather unexpectedly, actually found mine host at the head of the table, in his sitting-room, surrounded by some twenty _snobs_, his friends. our gownsman very properly resented his impertinence, took him by the collar and waist, and, in the language of that fine old song, goose-a-goose-a-gander, "_threw him down stairs_." the rest of the party prudently followed at this hint, leaving the table covered with the remains of sundry bottles of wine and a rich dessert. thus the affair terminated at that time: but our gownsman being a man of fortune, and one of those accustomed, therefore, to treat his brother students, his friends, sumptuously too, went two or three days after, to his fruiterer's, to order dessert for twenty. "the same as you had on wednesday?" inquired the fruiterer. "on wednesday!" he exclaimed with astonishment,--"i had _no_ dessert on wednesday!" "oh, yes, sir," was the rejoinder, "mr. ---himself ordered it for you, and, as i before said, for twenty!" the whole matter was soon understood to be, that the lodging-house keeper had actually done him the honour to give his brother snobs, of the _dirty shirt fraternity_, an invite and sumptuous entertainment at his expense! of course, he did not remain in the house of such a _free-and-easy-gent_. i name the fact as a recent occurrence, and a hint for gownsmen. but this is not the only way in which they are fleeced: the minor articles of _grocery_ are easily appropriated: nay, not only easily appropriated, but a _duplicate_ order is occasionally delivered _for the benefit of the house_. some tradesmen have made marvellous strides on the road to wealth, from various causes. i remember one man who, in six years, beginning life at the _very beginning_, saved enough to retire upon an independence for the rest of his life. did he _chalk double_? i answer not. but students should look to these things. at st. john's college, cambridge, the tutors have adopted an excellent plan by which, with ordinary diligence, cheats may be detected: they oblige the tradesmen to furnish them with duplicates of their bills against the students, one of which is handed to the latter, and any error pointed out, they will be _forced_ to rectify. another species of fraud is a trick tradesmen have, in the universities, of _persuading_ students to get into their debt, actually pressing their wares upon them, and then, when their books show sufficient reason, forsooth, they _make a mock_ assignment of their affairs over to their creditors, and some _pettifogging_ attorney addresses the unlucky debtors with an intimation, that, unless the account is forthwith paid, together with the expenses of the application, further proceedings will be taken! though the wily tradesman has assured the purchaser of his articles that credit would run to any _length he pleased_: and so it does, and no longer. such fellows should be _marked and cut_! it is but justice to add, however, that these observations do not apply to that respectable class of tradesmen, of whom the student _should_ purchase his necessaries. the motto of every student, notwithstanding, who is desirous of not injuring his future prospects in life, by too profuse an expenditure, should be "fugies uticam,"--keep out of debt! * * * * * the source of dr. parr's eloquence. some of dr. parr's hearers, struck with a remarkable passage in his sermon, asked him "whether he had read it from his book?" "oh, no," said he, "it was the light of nature suddenly flashing upon me." he once called a clergyman _a fool_. the divine, indignant, threatened to complain to the bishop. "do so," was the reply, "and my lord bishop will _confirm you_." to the same wit, when a student at emanuel college, is attributed the celebrated-address to his tea-chest, "_tu doces_," (_thou tea-chest_!) others give the paternity to lord erskine, when a fellow commoner of trinity college, cambridge; _n'importe_, they were friends. as a spice of their joint vanity, it is related of them, that one day, sipping their wine together, the doctor exclaimed, "should you give me an opportunity, erskine, i promise myself the pleasure of writing your epitaph." "sir," was the reply, "it's a temptation to commit suicide." on another occasion more than one authority concur in the doctor's thus assuring himself a place amongst the greek scholars of his day. "porson, sir, is the first, always the first; we all yield to him. burney is the third. who is the second, i leave you to guess." another spice of his vanity peeped out on his one night being seated in the side gallery at the house of commons, with the late sir james mackintosh, &c., where he could see and be seen by the members of the opposition, his friends. the debate was one of great importance. fox at length rose, and as he proceeded in his address, the doctor grew more and more animated, till at length he rose as if with the intention of speaking. he was reminded of the impropriety, and immediately sat down. after fox had concluded, he exclaimed: "had i followed any other profession, i might have been sitting by the side of that illustrious statesman; i should have had all his powers of argument,--all erskine's eloquence,--and all hargrave's law." he had one day been arguing and disagreeing with a lady, who said, "well, dr. parr, i still maintain my opinion." "madam," he rejoined, "you may, if you please, _retain_ your opinion: but you cannot _maintain_ it." another lady once opposing his opinions with more pertinacity than cogency of reasoning, concluded with the observation, "you know, doctor, it is the privilege of women to talk nonsense." "no, madam," he replied, "it is not their _privilege_, but their _infirmity_. ducks would walk, if they could, but nature suffers them only to waddle." after some persons, at a party where the doctor made one, had expressed their regret that he had not written more, or something more worthy of his fame, a young scholar somewhat pertly called out to him, "suppose, dr. parr, you and i were to write a book together!" "young man," exclaimed the chafed lion, "if all were to be written in that book which i _do_ know, and which you _do not_ know, it would be a very large book indeed." the following are given by field as his reproofs of ignorance talking with the confidence of knowledge. he was once insisting on the importance of discipline, established by a wise system, and enforced with a steady hand, in schools, in colleges, in the navy, in the army; when he was somewhat suddenly and rudely taken up by a young officer who had just received his commission, and was not a little proud of his "blushing honours." "what, sir," said he, addressing the doctor, "do you mean to apply that word _discipline_ to the _officers_ of the army? it may be well enough for the _privates_." "yes, sir, i do," replied the doctor, sternly: "it is _discipline_ makes the scholar, it is _discipline_ makes the soldier, it is _discipline_ makes the gentleman, and the _want of discipline_ has made you what you are." being much annoyed by the pert remarks of another tyro,--"sir," said he, "your tongue goes to work before your brain; and when your brain does work, it generates nothing but error and absurdity." the maxim of men of experience, the doctor might have added, is, "to think twice before they act once." to a third person, of bold and forward but ill-supported pretensions, he said, "b----, you have read _little_, thought _less_, and know _nothing_." he matched a trick of the devil. like the more celebrated scholars and divines, clarke, paley, markland, &c., he would join an evening party at cards, always preferring the old english game of whist, and resolutely adhering to his early determination of never playing for more than a nominal stake. being once, however, induced to break through it, and play with the late learned bishop of llandaff, dr. watson, for a _shilling_, which he won, after pushing it carefully to the bottom of his pocket and placing his hand upon it, with a kind of mock solemnity, he said, "there, my lord bishop, this is a trick of the devil; but i'll match him; so now, if you please, we will play for a _penny_," and this was ever after the amount of his stake, though he was not the less ardent in pursuit of success, or less joyous on winning his rubber. like our great moralist, johnson, he had an aversion to _punning_, saying, it exposed the _poverty_ of a language. yet he perpetrated the following three classical puns: one day reaching a book from a shelf in his library, two others came tumbling down, including a volume of hume, upon which fell a critical work of lambert bos: "see what has happened," exclaimed the doctor, "_procumbit humi bos_." at another time, too strong a current of air being let into the room where he was sitting, suffering under the effects of a slight cold, "stop! stop!" said he, "this is too much; at present i am only _par levibus ventis_." when he was solicited to subscribe to dr. busby's translation of lucretius, published at _a high price_, he declined doing so, by observing, at the proposed cost it would indeed be "lucretius _carus_." his law act at cambridge. on proceeding to the degree of ll.d. at cambridge, in 1781, dr. parr delivered "in the law schools, before crowded audiences," says field, "two theses, of which the subject of the first was, _hæres ex delicto defuncti non tenetur_; and of the second, _jus interpretandi leges privatis, perinde ac principi, constat_. in the former of these, after having offered a tribute of due respect to the memory of the late hon. charles yorke (the lord chancellor,) he strenuously opposed the doctrine of that celebrated lawyer, laid down in his book upon 'the law of forfeiture;' and denied the authority of those passages which were quoted from the correspondence of cicero and brutus; because, as he affirmed, after that learned and sagacious (cambridge) critic, markland (in his remarks on the epistles of those two romans,) the correspondence itself is not genuine. the same liberal and enlightened views of the natural and social rights of man pervaded the latter as well as the former thesis; and in both were displayed such strength of reasoning and power of language, such accurate knowledge of historical facts and such clear comprehension of legal principles bearing on the questions, that the whole audience listened with fixed and delighted attention. the professor of law himself, dr. hallifax, afterwards bishop of st. asaph, was so struck with the uncommon excellence of these compositions, as to make it his particular request that they should be given to the public; but with which request dr. parr could not be persuaded to comply. "there is a pleasant story reported of the doctor," says barker, in his parriana, when on a visit to dr. farmer, at emanuel lodge. he had made free in discourse with some of the fellow commoners in the combination-room, who, not being able to cope with him, resolved to take vengeance in their own way; they took his best wig, and thrust it into his boot: this indispensable appendage of dress was soon called for, but could nowhere be found, till the doctor, preparing for his departure, and proceeding, to put on his boots, found one of them pre-occupied, and putting in his hand, drew forth the wig, with a loud shout--perhaps [greek: eurêka]." "when the late dr. watson," adds the same writer, "presided in the divinity-schools, at an act kept by dr. milner, the reputation of whose great learning and ability caused the place to be filled with the senior and junior members of the university, one of the opponents was the late dr. coulthurst, and the debate was carried on with great vigour and spirit. when this opponent had gone through his arguments, the professor rose, as usual, from his throne, and, taking off his cap, cried out- 'arcades ambo et cantare pares, et respondere parati.' we juniors, who happened to be present, were much pleased with the application. soon after, being in the doctor's company, i mentioned how much we were entertained with the whole scene, particularly with the close: he smiled, and said, 'it is warburton's,' where i soon after found it." * * * * * epigram on a cambridge beauty, daughter of an alderman, made by the rev. hans de veil, son of sir thomas de veil, and a cantab:- "is molly fowle immortal?--no. yes, but she is--i'll prove her so: she's fifteen now, and was, i know, fifteen full fifteen years ago." * * * * * novel revenge. sir john heathcote, a cantab, and lessee of lincoln church, being refused a renewal of the same on his own terms, by the prebend, dr. cobden, of st. john's college, cambridge, upon accepting the prebend's terms, appointed his late majesty, then prince of wales, to be one of the lives included in the lease, observing, "i will nominate one for whom the dog shall be obliged to pray in the daytime, wishing him dead at night." * * * * * they take them as they come. a person might very well conclude, from the observations of the enemies of our english universities, that the governors of them had the power of selecting the youth who are to graduate at them, or that, of necessity, all men bred at either oxford or cambridge ought to be alike distinguished for superior virtue and forbearance, great learning, and great talents. they forget, that they must _take them as they come_, like the boy in the anecdote. "so you are picking them out, my lad," said a cantab to a youth, scratching his head in the street. "no," said the arch-rogue, "i takes 'em as they come." just so do the authorities at oxford and cambridge. i knew a son of granta, and eke, too, the darling son of his mother, whose mind, at twenty, was a chaos, and must from his birth have been, not as locke would have supposed, a sheet of white paper, ready to receive impressions, but one smeared and useless. yet solomon in all his glory was not half so wise as was this scion in his mother's opinion. she, therefore, brought him to cambridge, and having introduced him to the amiable tutor of st. john's college, smirkingly asked him, "if he thought her _darling_ would be _senior wrangler_?" "i don't know, madam," was his reply, in his short quick manner of speaking, pulling up a certain portion of his dress, in the wearing of which he resembled sir charles wetherell, "i don't know, madam; that remains to be seen." poor fellow, he never could get a degree, nor (after having been removed from cambridge to the _politechnique school_ at paris, for a year or two) could he ever get over the _pons asinorum_ (as we cantabs term the fifth proposition of the first book of euclid.) another miscalculating mamma, and they are sure to miscalculate whenever they inter-meddle with such matters, declined entering her two sons at cambridge in the same year, that, as she said, "they might not stand in each other's way." _id est_, they were to be both _senior wranglers_. they, however, never caught sight of the _goal_. i recollect, on one occasion, the second son being _floored_ in his college mathematical examination. he was said to have afterwards carried home the paper (containing twenty-two difficult geometrical and other problems,) when one of his sisters snatched it out of his hand, exclaiming, "give it to me," and, without the slightest hesitation (in good cambridge phrase,) she "_floored_" the whole of them, to his dismay. this lady was one of a bevy of ten beauties whom their mamma compassionately brought to cambridge to _dance_ with the young _gentlemen_ of the university at her parties, and after so officiating for some three or four years, notwithstanding they were all _blues_, and had corresponding names, from _britannia_ to _boadicea_, the cantabs suffered them all to depart _spinsters_. but papas also sometimes overrate their sons' talents and virtues. a gentleman, a few years since, on presenting his favourite son to the sub-rector of a certain college in oxford, as a new member, did so with the observation, "sir, he is _modest_, _diffident_, and _clever_, and will _be an example to the whole college_." "i am glad of it," was the reply, "we want such men, and i am honoured, sir, by your bringing him here." papa made his exit, well pleased with our welshman's hospitality, for of that country our sub-rector, as well as the gentleman in question was. the former, too, had been a chaplain in lord nelson's fleet, in his younger days, and was not over orthodox in his language, when _irritated_, though a man with a better heart it would have puzzled the grecian sage to have traced out by candle-light. a month had scarcely passed over, when papa, having occasion to pass through oxon, called on the sub-rector, of course, and naturally inquired, "how his son demeaned himself?" "you told me, sir," said the sub-rector, in a pet, and a speech such as the quarter-deck of a man-of-war had schooled him in; "you told me, sir, that your son was _modest_, but d--n his _modesty!_ you told me, sir, he was _diffident_, but d--n his _diffidence!_ you told me, sir, he was clever; he's the greatest dunce of the whole society! you told me, sir, he would prove an example to the whole college: but i tell you, sir, that he is neither _modest_, _diffident_ nor _clever_, and in three weeks," added the sub-rector, raising his voice to a becoming pitch, "he has ruined half the college by his example!" we can scarcely do better than add to this, by way of tail-piece, from that loyal oxford scourge _terræ filius_ (ed. 1726)--(to be read, "cum grano," and some allowance for the excited character of the times in which it was written)-iter academicum; or, the gentleman commoner's matriculation. being of age to play the fool, with muckle glee i left our school at _hoxton_; and, mounted on an easy pad, rode with my mother and my dad to _oxon_. conceited of my parts and knowledge, they entered me into a college _ibidem_. the master took me first aside, showed me a scrawl--i read, and cried _do fidem_. gravely he took me by the fist, and wished me well--we next request a tutor. he recommends a staunch one, who in _perkins'_ cause had been his co adjutor. to see this precious stick of wood, i went (for so they deemed it good) in fear, sir; and found him swallowing loyalty, six deep his bumpers, which to me seemed queer, sir. he bade me sit and take my glass; i answered, looking like an ass, i can't, sir. not drink!--you don't come here to pray! the merry mortal said, by way of answer. to pray, sir! no, my lad; 'tis well! come, here's our friend _sacheverell_; here's _trappy_! here's _ormond!_ _marr!_ in short, so many traitors we drank, it made my _crani um_ nappy. and now, the company dismissed, with this same sociable priest, or fellow, i sallied forth to deck my back with loads of _stuff_, and gown of black _prunello_. my back equipt, it was not fair my head should 'scape, and so, as square as _chess-board_, a _cap_ i bought, my scull to screen, of cloth without, and all within of _paste-board_. when metamorphosed in attire, more like a parson than a squire they'd dressed me. i took my leave, with many a tear, of _john_, our man, and parents dear, who blest me. the master said they might believe him, so righteously (the lord forgive him!) he'd govern. he'd show me the extremest love, provided that i did not prove too stubborn. so far so good; but now _fresh fees_ began (for so the custom is) my ruin. fresh fees! with drink they knock you down; you spoil your clothes, and your new gown you sp-in. i scarce had slept--at six--tan tin the bell goes--servitor comes in- gives warning. i wished the scoundrel at old nick; i puked, and went to prayers d--d sick that morning. one who could come half drunk to prayer they saw was entered, and could swear at random; would bind himself, as they had done, to statutes, tho' he could not un derstand 'em. built in the form of _pigeon-pye_, a house[a] there is for rooks to lie and roost in. their laws, their articles of grace, _forty_, i think, save half a brace, was willing to swear to; swore, engaged my soul, and paid the _swearing broker_ whole _ten shilling_. full half a pound i paid him down, to live in the most p--d town o' th' nation: may it ten thousand cost _lord phyz_, for never forwarding his vis itation. [a] theatre * * * * * a story is told, and, "in the days that are gone," is not at all improbable, that a youth being brought to oxon, after he had paid the tutor and other the several college and university fees, was told he must _subscribe to the thirty-nine articles_; "with all my heart," said our freshman, "pray how much is it?" * * * * * freshmen often afford mirth to both tutors, scholars, scouts, gyps, and others, by their blunders. they will not unfrequently, upon the first tingle of the college bell (though it always rings a quarter of an hour, by way of warning, on ordinary occasions, and half an hour on saints' days, in cambridge,) hurry off to hall or chapel, with their gowns the wrong side outwards, or, their caps reversed, walk unconsciously along with the hind part before, as i once heard a _soph_ observe, "the peak smelling thunder." they are also very apt to mistake characters and functionaries:--i have seen a freshman _cap_ the college-butler, taking him for _bursar_ at least. the persons to be so complimented are the chancellor, the vice-chancellor, the proctors, the head of your college, and your tutors. when the late bishop mansell was vice-chancellor of cambridge, he one day met two freshmen in trumpington-street, who passed him unheeded. the bishop was not a man to '_bate_ an iota of his due, and stopped them and asked, "if they knew he was the vice-chancellor?" they blushingly replied, they did not, and begged his pardon for omitting to _cap_ him, observing they _were freshmen_. "how long have you been in cambridge?" asked the witty bishop. "only eight days," was the reply. "in that case i must excuse you; puppies never see till they are _nine_ days old." * * * * * another freshman was unconsciously walking beyond the university church, on a sunday morning, which (at both oxford and cambridge) he would have been expected to attend, when he was met by the master of st. john's college, dr. wood, who, by way of a mild rebuke, stopped him and asked him, "if the way he was going led to st. mary's church?" "oh, no, sir," said he, with most lamb-like innocence, "this is the way," pointing in the opposite direction. "keep straight on, you can't miss it." the doctor, however, having fully explained himself, preferred taking him as a guide. * * * * * we must do something for the poor lost young man. lords stowel and eldon both studied at trinity college, oxford, with success, and, it is well known, there laid the foundation of that fame, which, from the humble rank of the sons of a newcastle coal-fitter, raised them to the highest legal stations and the english peerage. the former first graduated, and was elected a fellow and tutor of all soul's college (where he had the late lord tenterden for a pupil) and became camden professor. the latter afterwards graduated with a success that would have ensured him a fellowship and other university distinctions, but visiting his native place soon after he took a.b. he fell in love with miss surtees (the present lady eldon) daughter of a then rich banker, in newcastle, who returned his affection, and they became man and wife. her family were indignant, and refused to be reconciled to the young pair, because the lady had, as the phrase ran, "married below her station." mr. scott, the father, was as much offended at the step his son had taken, which at once shut him out from the chance of a fellowship, and refused them his countenance. in this dilemma the new married pair sought the friendship of mr. william scott (now lord stowell) at oxford. his heart, cast in a softer mould, readily forgave them,--his amiable nature would not have permitted him to do otherwise. he received them with a brotherly affection, pitied rather than condemned them, and is said to have observed to some oxford friends, "we must do something for the poor _lost_ young man!" what a lesson is there not read to mankind in the result! a harsher course might have led to ruin--the milder one was the stepping-stone to the _woolsack and a peerage_. * * * * * like o' whissonset church. a cantab visited some friends in the neighbourhood of whissonset, near fakenham, norfolk, during the life of the late rector of that parish, who was then nearly ninety, and but little capable of attending to his duty, but having married a young wife, _she_ would not allow him a curate, but every sunday drove him from fakenham to the church. in short he was hen-pecked. his clerk kept the village public-house, and was not over-attentive to his duties. our cantab accompanied his friends to church at the usual time, arriving at which they found doors close; neither "vicar or moses" had arrived, nor did they appear till half an hour after. under these circumstances our cantab threw off the following epigram: like o' whissonset church in vain you'll search, the lord be thanked for't: the parson is old, his wife's a scold, and the clerk sells beer by the quart. the people who go are but so so, and but so so are the singers; they roar in our ears like northern bears, and the devil take the ringers. * * * * * custom, whim, fashion, and caprice, have been pretty nearly as arbitrary in our universities as with the rest of the world. when john goslin was vice-chancellor, he is said to have made it a heavy fine to appear in boots. a student, however, undertook, for a small bet, to visit him in them, and, to appease his wrath, he desired the doctor's advice for an hereditary numbness in his legs. so far was the vice-chancellor from expressing any anger, that he pitied him, and he won his wager. another vice-chancellor is said to have issued his mandate for all members in statu pupillari, to appear in yellow stockings. the following singular order, as to dress and the excess thereof, was issued by the great statesman, cecil, lord burleigh, as chancellor of the university of cambridge, in the days of elizabeth, which is preserved in the _liber niger_, or black-book, extant in the cambridge university library. the paper is dated "from my house in strand, this seventhe of may, 1588," and runs thus:--1. "that no hat be worne of anie graduate or scholler within the said universitie (except it shall be when he shall journey owte of the towne, or excepte in the time of his sickness.) all graduates were to weare square caps of clothe; and schollers, not graduates, round cloth caps, saving that it may be lawful for the sonnes of noblemen, or the sonnes and heirs of knights, to weare round caps of velvet, but no hats." 2. "all graduates shall weare abroade in the universitie going owte of his colledg, a gowne and a hoode of cloth, according to the order of his degree. provided that it shall be lawful for everie d.d., and for the mr. of anie coll. to weare a sarcenet tippet of velvet, according to the anciente customes of this realme, and of the saide universitie. the whiche gowne, tippet, and square caps, the saide drs. and heads shall be likewise bound to weare, when they shall resorte eyther to the courte, or to the citie of london." 3. "and that the excesse of shirt bands and ruffles, exceeding an ynche and halfe (saving the sonnes of noblemen,) the fashion and colour other than white, be avoided presentlie; and no scholler, or fellowe of the foundation of anie house of learninge, do weare eyther in the universitie or without, &c., anie hose, stockings, dublets, jackets, crates, or jerknees, or anie other kynde of garment, of velvet, satin, or silk, or in the facing of the same shall have above a 1/4 of a yard of silke, or shall use anie other light kynde of colour, or cuts, or gards, of fashion, the which shall be forbidden by the chancellor," &c. 4th. "and that no scholler doe weare anie long lockes of hair vppon his head, but that he be notted, pouled, or rounded, after the accustomed manner of the gravest schollers of the saide universitie." the penalty for every offence against these several orders being six shillings and eightpence: the sum in which offenders are mulcted in the present day. the fashion of the hair has been not less varied, or less subject to animadversion, than the dress of the members of the universities. the fashion of wearing long hair, so peculiar in the reign of charles ii., was called the apollo. his royal highness the duke of gloucester, the present chancellor of the university of cambridge, "was an apollo" during the whole of his residence at trinity college, says the _gradus ad cant_. indeed his royal highness, who was noted for his personal beauty at that time, was "the last in cambridge who wore his hair after that fashion." "i can remember," says the pious archbishop tillotson, as cited by the above writer, discoursing on this head, viz. _of hair_! "since the wearing the hair _below_ the ears was looked upon as _a sin of the first magnitude_; and when ministers generally, whatever their text was, did either find, or make, occasion to reprove the great _sin_ of long hair: and if they saw any one in the congregation guilty in that kind, they would point him out particularly, and _let fly_ at him with great zeal." and we can remember, since wearing the hair _cropt_, i. e. _above_ the ears, was looked upon, though not as "a sin," yet, as a very vulgar and raffish sort of a thing; and when the _doers_ of newspapers exhausted all their wit in endeavouring to rally the new-raised corps of crops, regardless of the late noble duke (of bedford) who headed them; and, when the rude rank-scented rabble, if they saw any one in the streets, whether time or the tonsor had thinned his flowing hair, they would point him out particularly and "_let fly at him_," as the archbishop says, till not a shaft of ridicule remained! the tax upon hair-powder has now, however, produced all over the country very plentiful crops. charles ii., who, as his _worthy friend_ the earl of rochester, remarked, ---never said a foolish thing; nor ever _did_ a wise one, sent a letter to the university of cambridge, forbidding the members to wear _periwigs_, smoke tobacco, and read their sermons!! it is needless to remark, that tobacco has not yet made its exit in fumo, and that _periwigs_ still continue to adorn "the heads of houses." till the present all-prevailing, all-_accommodating_ fashion of crops became general in the university, no young man presumed to dine in hall till he had previously received a handsome trimming from the hair-dresser (one of which calling was a special appointment to each college.) the following inimitable imitation of "the bard" of gray, is ascribed to the pen of the late lord erskine, when a fellow-commoner of trinity college, cambridge. having been disappointed of the attendance of his college-barber, he was compelled to forego his _commons_ in hall. but determining to have his revenge, and give his hair-dresser a good dressing, he sat down and penned the following "fragment of a pindaric ode," wherein, "in imitation of the despairing bard of gray, who prophesied the destruction of king edward's race, he poured forth his curses upon the whole race of barbers, predicting their ruin in the simplicity of a future generation." i. ruin seize thee, scoundrel coe! confusion on thy frizzing wait; hadst thou the only comb below, thou never more shouldst touch my pate. club, nor queue, nor twisted tail, nor e'en thy chatt'ring, barber! shall avail to save thy horse-whipp'd back from daily fears, from cantab's curse, from cantab's tears! such were the sounds that o'er the powder'd pride of coe the barber scattered wild dismay, as down the steep of jackson's slippery lane, he wound with puffing march his toilsome, tardy way. ii. in a room where cambridge town frowns o'er the kennel's stinking flood, rob'd in a flannel powd'ring gown, with haggard eyes poor erskine stood; (long his beard and blouzy hair stream'd like an old wig to the troubled air;) and with clung guts, and face than razor thinner, swore the loud sorrows of his dinner. hark! how each striking clock and tolling bell, with awful sounds, the hour of eating tell! o'er thee, oh coe! their dreadful notes they wave, soon shall such sounds proclaim thy yawning grave; vocal in vain, through all this ling'ring day, the grace already said, the plates all swept away. iii. cold is beau * * tongue, that soothed each virgin's pain; bright perfumed m * * has cropp'd his head: almacks! you moan in vain. each youth whose high toupee made huge plinlimmon bow his cloud-cropt head, in humble tyburn-top we see; esplashed with dirt and sun-burnt face; far on before the ladies mend their pace, the macaroni sneers, and will not see. dear lost companions of the coxcomb's art, dear as a turkey to these famished eyes, dear as the ruddy port which warms my heart, ye sunk amidst the fainting misses' cries. no more i weep--they do not sleep: at yonder ball a slovenly band, i see them sit, they linger yet, avengers of fair nature's hand; with me in dreadful resolution join, to crop with one accord, and starve their cursed line. iv. weave the warp, and weave the woof, the winding-sheet of barber's race; give ample room, and verge enough, their lengthened lanthorn jaws to trace. mark the year, and mark the night, when all their shops shall echo with affright; loud screams shall through st. james's turrets ring, to see, like eton boy, the king! puppies of france, with unrelenting paws, that crape the foretops of our aching heads; no longer england owns thy fribblish laws, no more her folly gallia's vermin feeds. they wait at dover for the first fair wind, soup-meagre in the van, and snuff roast-beef behind. v. mighty barbers, mighty lords, low on a greasy bench they lie! no pitying heart or purse affords a sixpence for a mutton-pye! is the mealy 'prentice fled? poor coe is gone, all supperless to bed. the swarm that in thy shop each morning sat, comb their lank hair on forehead flat: fair laughs the morn, when all the world are beaux, while vainly strutting through a silly land, in foppish train the puppy barber goes; lace on his shirt, and money at command, regardless of the skulking bailiff's sway, that, hid in some dark court, expects his evening prey. vi. the porter-mug fill high, baked curls and locks prepare; reft of our heads, they yet by wigs may live, close by the greasy chair fell thirst and famine lie, no more to art will beauteous nature give. heard ye the gang of fielding say, sir john,[7] at last we've found their haunt, to desperation driv'n by hungry want, thro' the crammed laughing pit they steal their way. ye tow'rs of newgate! london's lasting shame, by many a foul and midnight murder fed, revere poor mr. coe, the blacksmith's[8] fame, and spare the grinning barber's chuckle head. vii. rascals! we tread thee under foot, (weave we the woof, the thread is spun;) our beards we pull out by the root; (the web is wove, your work is done.) "stay, oh, stay! nor thus forlorn leave me uncurl'd, undinner'd, here to mourn." thro' the broad gate that leads to college hall, they melt, they fly, they vanish all. but, oh! what happy scenes of pure delight, slow moving on their simple charms unroll! ye rapt'rous visions! spare my aching sight, ye unborn beauties, crowd not on my soul! no more our long-lost coventry we wail: all hail, ye genuine forms; fair nature's issue, hail! viii. not frizz'd and frittered, pinned and rolled, sublime their artless locks they wear, and gorgeous dames, and judges old, without their tetes and wigs appear. in the midst a form divine, her dress bespeaks the pennsylvania line; her port demure, her grave, religious face, attempered sweet to virgin grace. what sylphs and spirits wanton through the air! what crowds of little angels round her play! hear from thy sepulchre, great penn! oh, hear! a scene like this might animate thy clay. simplicity now soaring as she sings, waves in the eye of heaven her quaker-coloured wings. ix. no more toupees are seen that mock at alpine height, and queues, with many a yard of riband bound, all now are vanished quite. no tongs or torturing pin, but every head is trimmed quite snug around: like boys of the cathedral choir, curls, such as adam wore, we wear; each simpler generation blooms more fair, till all that's artificial expire. vain puppy boy! think'st thou you essenced cloud, raised by thy puff, can vie with _nature's_ hue? to-morrow see the variegated crowd with ringlets shining like the morning dew. enough for me: with joy i see the different dooms our fates assign; be thine to love thy trade and starve, to wear what heaven bestowed be mine. he said, and headlong from the trap-stairs' height, quick thro' the frozen street he ran in shabby plight. [7] sir john fielding, the late active police magistrate. [8] coe's father, the well-known blacksmith and alderman, now no more. whilst we are discussing the subject of hair, we ought not to forget that, according to lyson's environs of london, the first prelate that wore a wig was archbishop tillotson. in the great dining-room of lambeth palace, he says, there are portraits of all the archbishops, from laud to the present time, in which may be observed the gradual change of the clerical habit, in the article of wigs. archbishop tillotson was the first prelate that wore a wig, which then was not unlike the natural hair, and worn without powder. in 1633, 21 james 1st, the oxford scholars were prohibited from wearing boots and spurs. "care was taken," says wood, "that formalities in public assemblies should be used, which, through negligence, were now, and sometime before, left off. that the wearing of boots and spurs also be prohibited, 'a fashion' (as our chancellor saith in his letters) rather befitting the liberties of the inns of court than the strictness of an academical life, which fashion is not only usurped by the younger sort, but by the masters of arts, who preposterously assume that part of the doctor's formalities which adviseth them to ryde _ad prædicandum evangelium_, but in these days implying nothing else but _animum deserendi studium_." it was therefore ordered, "that no person that wears a gown wear boots; if a graduate, he was to forfeit 2_s._ 6_d._ for the first time of wearing them, after order was given to the contrary; for the second time 5_s._, and so toties quoties. and if an undergraduate, whipping, or other punishment, according to the will of the vice-chancellor and proctors, for every time he wore them." and in 1608, when archbishop bancroft became chancellor of oxford, he decreed amongst other things, "that indecency of attire be left off, and academical habits be used in public assemblies, being now more remissly looked to than in former times. also, that no occasion of offence be given, long hair was not to be worn; for whereas in the reign of queen elizabeth few or none wore their hair longer than their ears (for they that did so were accounted by the graver and elder sort swaggerers and ruffians,) now it was common even among scholars, who were to be examples of modesty, gravity, and decency." * * * * * wakefield's epigram on the flying barber of cambridge, which his college friend, dyer, has given in his supplement, under the head "seria ludo," with the happy, original motto- with serious truths we mix a little fun, and now and then we treat you with a pun. the subject of the epigram, he says (the original of which mr. w. sent to a friend,) "was mr. foster, formerly of cambridge, who, on account of his rapidity in conversation, in walking, and more particularly in the exercise of his profession, was called (by the cantabs) _the flying barber_. he was a great oddity, and gave birth to many a piece of fun in the university:- tonsor ego: vultus radendo spumcus albet, mappa subest, ardet culter, et unda tepet. quam versat gladium cito dextra, novacula levis, mox tua tam celeri strinxerit ora manu. cedite, romani tonsores, cedite graii; tonsorem regio non habet ulla parem. imberbes grantam, barbati accedite grantam; illa polit mentes; et polit illa genas. * * * * * the isthmus of suez. the men of st. john's college, cambridge, like every other society in both oxford and cambridge, have their _soubriquet_. from what cause they obtained that of "johnian hogs" is yet scarcely settled, though much has been written thereon, extant in _the gradus ad cant., facetiæ cant._, and _the cambridge tart_. it proved of some service, however, to a wag of the society (and to them the merit of punning was conceded in the spectator's time,) in giving him an idea for a name for the elegant one-arched covered bridge which joins the superb gothic court they have lately added to the fine old college, after the designs of messrs. hutchinson and rickman of birmingham. the question was discussed at a wine party, and one proposed calling it the "bridge of sighs," as it led to most of the tutors' and deans' rooms, from whom issued all _impositions_ (punishments,) &c. "i have it!" exclaimed a wag, his eyes beaming brighter than his sparkling glass--"i have it! call it the isthmus of suez!" id est _the hog's isthmus_, from the latin word _sus_, a sow, which makes _suis_ in the genitive case, and proves our johnian to be a punster worthy of his school. * * * * * you are to pray and fight, not to drink for the church. mr. jones, of welwyn, relates, on the authority of old mr. bunburry, of brazen-nose college, that bishop kennett, when a young man, being one of the oxford pro-proctors, and a very active one, about james the second's reign, going his rounds one evening, found a company of gownsmen engaged on a _drinking bout_, to whom his then high church principles were notorious (though he afterwards changed them, sided with bishop hoadley, and obtained the _soubriquet_ of _weather-cock kennett_.) when he entered the room, he reprimanded them for keeping such late hours, especially over the bottle, rather than over their studies in their respective colleges, and ordered them to disperse. one in the company, who knew his political turn, addressed him with, "mr. proctor, you will, i am sure, excuse us when i say, we were met to _drink prosperity to the church_, to which _you_ can have no objection." "sir," was his answer, with a solemn air, "we are to _pray_ for the church, and to _fight_ for the church, not to _drink_ for the church." upon which the company paid their reckoning and dispersed. there is a curious print in the library of the antiquarians, of an altar-piece, which the rector of whitechapel, dr. walton, caused to be painted and put up in his church, representing christ and his twelve apostles eating the passover, wherein bishop kennett (the "traitor dean," as his siding with hoadley caused him to be designated) is painted as _judas_. * * * * * signs of a good appetite. when a late master of richmond school, yorkshire, came, a _raw_ lad in his teens, to matriculate at trinity college, cambridge, he was invited to dinner by his tutor, and happened to be seated opposite some boiled fowls, which, having just emptied a plate of his _quantum_ of fish, he was requested to _carve_. he accordingly took one on his plate, but not being a _carver_, he leisurely ate the whole of it, _minus_ the bones, not at all disconcerted by the smiles of the other guests: and when the cheese appeared, and his host cut a plateful for him to pass round the table, he coolly set to and eat the whole himself. he, notwithstanding, proved a good scholar, and distinguished himself both in classics and mathematics, is now a canon residentiary of st. paul's, and a very worthy divine, who has earned his reputation, preferments, and dignities by his merits only. * * * * * a college quiz. the following effusion of humour was the production of a very pleasant fellow, an oxford scholar, now no more, who, says angelo, in his reminiscences, "was a great favourite among his brother collegians," and a humourist:--"lost £10 this morning, may 15, 1808, in peckwater quadrangle, near no. 6. any nobleman, gentleman, common student, or commoner, who will, as soon as possible, bring the same back to the afflicted loser, shall, with pleasure, receive _ten guineas_ reward; a suitor shall receive _five_ guineas; and a scout or porter, _one_ guinea. the notes were all bank of england notes, i only received this morning from my father. my name is ----, and i lodge at ----, facing tom gate, where i am anxiously waiting for some kind friend to bring them to me.--_vivant rex et regina_." * * * * * sucking the milk of both universities is an epithet applied to those members who, after graduating at one proceeds to a like degree at the other. a party one day disputing as to whether oxford or cambridge was the more distinguished seat of learning,--"it can't affect me," exclaimed one of them, "for i was educated at both." upon which a wag observed, "he reminded him of a calf that was suckled by two cows." "how so?" said the other. "why, it turned out the greatest _calf_ i ever knew," was the retort. * * * * * amongst the musical professors of cambridge, and not the least, who was organist of king's college also, in the beginning of the eighteenth century, was dr. thomas tudway. he was a notorious wag, and when several of the members of the university of cambridge expressed their discontent at the paucity of the patronage, and the rigour of the government of the "proud duke of somerset," whose statue graces their senate house, he facetiously observed- "_the chancellor rides us all without a bit in our mouths._" like rabelais, in him the passion for punning was strong in death, though less profane. when he laid dangerously ill of the quinsy (of which he soon after died,) his physician, seeing some hope, turned from his patient to mrs. tudway, who was weeping in despair at his danger, and observed, "courage, madam! the dr. will get up may-hill yet, he has swallowed some nourishment." upon which dr. tudway said, as well as his disease would permit him to articulate, "don't mind him, my dear: one swallow don't make a summer." * * * * * ambassadors of king jesus at oxford. the rev. charles godwyn, b.d., fellow of baliol college, grandson to dr. francis g., bishop of hereford, in a letter, dated march 14, 1768, printed in nichols's anecdotes, says, "a very sad affair has happened" at oxford. "the principal of edmund hall (dr. george dixon) has been indiscreet enough to admit into his hall, by the recommendation of lady huntingdon, seven london tradesmen, one a tapster, another a barber, &c. they have little or no learning, but all of them have a high opinion of themselves, as being _ambassadors of king jesus_. one of them, upon that title conferred by himself, has been a preacher. complaint was made to the vice-chancellor, dr. david durell (principal of hertford college,) i believe, by the bishop of oxford; and he, in his own right, as vice-chancellor, had last week a visitation of the hall. some of the preaching tradesmen were found so void of learning, that they were expelled from the hall." * * * * * a surprising effort of intellect. robert austin, a fellow of king's college, cambridge, was amanuensis to the famous arabic professor, wheelock, who employed him in correcting the press of his _persic gospels_, the first of the kind ever printed, with a latin translation and notes. of this surprising young man, he says, "in the space of two months, not knowing a letter in arabic or persic at the beginning, he sent a letter to me in norfolk, of peculiar passages, so that of his age i never met with the like; and his indefatigable patience, and honesty, or ingenuity, exceed, if possible, his capacity." but his immoderate application brought on a derangement of mind, and he died early in 1654. * * * * * judgment of professor hallifax. when queen elizabeth was questioned on the subject of her faith in the sacrament, she dexterously avoided giving offence by replying- "christ was the word that spake it, he took the bread and brake it, and what his word did make it, that i believe, and take it." scarcely less ingenious was the reply of bishop hallifax, when regius professor of civil law at cambridge, upon dr. parr and the rev. joseph smith (both resident at stanmore) applying to him for his judgment on a literary dispute between them. his response was in the following official language, by which he dexterously avoided the imputation of partiality:- "_nolo interponere judicium meum._" his name reminds me that he married a _cooke_, the daughter of dr. william cooke, provost of king's college, cambridge, for whom george the third had so great a regard, that he extended it to his children. the bishop and his wife being at cheltenham when the king was there, and some person asking why his majesty paid dr. hallifax such marked respect, was answered, "sir, he married a _cooke_." this being in the presence of the celebrated oxonian, dean tucker, "i, too," he facetiously remarked, "have a claim to his majesty's attention, for i married _a cook_," alluding to the fact, that his second wife originally held that rank in his domestic establishment. * * * * * oh! for a distich. a pembrokian cantab, named penlycross, having written an essay, a candidate for the norrisian prize (which it was necessary he should subscribe with a greek or latin motto, as well as a sealed letter, enclosing his name, after being for a time at a loss for one,) and having an ominous _presentiment_ of its rejection, he seized his pen and subscribed the following on both: "distichon ut poscas nolente, volente, minerva, mos sacer? unde mihi distichon? en perago." "without a distich, vain the oration is; oh! for a distich! doctor, e'en take this." * * * * * skeleton sermons. the author of the pursuits of literature ridicules the epithet "skeleton sermons," as "ridiculous and absurd," speaking of those of the rev. charles simeon, m.a. now senior fellow of king's college. when, in 1796, that divine published his edition of _claude's essay on a sermon, with an appendix containing one hundred skeleton sermons_, the celebrated dr. william cooke, father of the late regius professor of greek, was provost of king's, and to him, as in duty bound, mr. simeon presented a copy. the provost read it with his natural appearance of a proud and dignified humility, and, struck with the unfortunate and somewhat ludicrous title of _skeleton sermons_, "skeletons! skeletons!" he exclaimed, in his significant way, "shall these dry bones live?" what would the provost have thought and said, had he lived to see an edition of them in ten volumes 4to. price ten guineas? * * * * * i wish he had paid it first. the present vice-master of trinity college, cambridge, being told that one of his pupils, the author of "alma mater," had therein published his bill, coolly replied, "i wish he had paid it first." another cantab had-a mind to make trial of the stocks, which unluckily stood in the church-yard, and it happening to be a saint's day, the congregation were at prayers, of which he was ignorant, when he got a friend to put him in. his friend sauntered away, whether wilfully or not i leave my readers to guess, and he was in vain struggling to release himself, when the congregation issued forth, who were not a little _moved_ at his situation. many laughed, but one, an old woman, compassionately released him. a similar story is told of the celebrated son of granta, lord chief justice pratt, who had afterwards to try a cause in which the plaintiff had brought his action against a magistrate for falsely imprisoning him in the stocks. the counsel for the defence arguing that the action was a frivolous one, on the ground that the stocks were no punishment, his lordship beckoned his learned brother to him, and told him, in his ear, that having himself been put in the stocks, he could assure him it was no such slight punishment as he represented, and the plaintiff obtained a verdict against the magistrate in consequence. * * * * * hissing versus money. parker says, in his musical memoirs, that the oxford scholars once hissed madame mara, conceiving she assumed too much importance in her bearing. no wonder they so treated signor samperio, one evening at a concert, attracted, when he came forward to sing, by his "tall, lank figure, sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, and shrill voice;" in fact, they hissed him off before he had half got through his cavatina. the gentleman who acted as steward was deeply moved at his situation, and, going up to samperio, endeavoured to soothe him. but the signor, not at all hurt, replied, "o, sare, never mind; dey may hissa me as much as dey please, if i getti di money." another anecdote is told of-two oxford scholars posing dr. hayes, the late musical professor, who was some six feet high, and scarcely inferior in bulk to the famous essex miller. he had at last so much difficulty in getting in and out of a stage coach, that whenever he went from oxford to london to conduct the annual performances at st. paul's, for the benefit of the sons of the clergy, which he did for many years _gratis_, his custom was to engage a whole seat to himself, and when once in and seated to remain so till the end of the journey. the fact became known to two oxford wags, who resolved to _pose_ the doctor, and to that end engaged the other two inside places, and taking care to be there before him, seated themselves in the opposite corners, one to the right the other to the left, and there the doctor found them, on arriving to take his place. "how was he to dispose of his _corpus_?" was the query: they had a clear right to their seats, and no alternative seemed left him, as they declined moving, but to place his head in one corner and his feet in the other. at last our oxonians, having fully enjoyed the _dilemma_ in which they had placed the doctor, consented to give way, confessed their purpose, and even the doctor had the good sense to laugh at his own expense. * * * * * gross indeed. when the celebrated cantab, and editor of _lucretius_, gilbert wakefield, was convicted of a _libel_ before the late judge _grose_, who sentenced him to fine and imprisonment, turning from the bar, he said, with the spirit of a frenchman, it was--"_gross_ indeed." to the same learned cantab, dyer attributes the following-pun upon pye. being asked once his opinion of the poetry of _pye_, the then poet laureat, his reply was, that he thought very _handsomely_ of some of mr. p.'s poems, which he had read. this did not suffice, and he was pressed for his opinion of the laureat-ode that had just appeared in the public prints. not having seen it, he desired his friend to read it to him, and the introductory lines containing something about the _singing of birds_, wakefield abruptly silenced him with this happy allusion to the laureat's name, in the following nursery rhymes:- "and when the pie was opened, the birds began to sing: and was not this a dainty dish to set before a king." * * * * * the cambridge family of spintexts begun with john alcock, ll.d., bishop of ely, and founder of jesus college. "garrulus hunc quando consumet cunq; loquaces, si sapiat, vitet, simul atque adoluerit ætas." in 1483, says wilson, in his memorabilia cantabrigiæ, he preached before the university "_bonum et blandum sermonem prædicavit, et duravit in horam tertiam et ultra_," which is supposed to be a sermon that was printed in his lifetime, in 1498, by the famous pynson, entitled, "_galli cantus ad confratres suos curatos in synodo, apud barnwell, 25th september_, 1498," at the head of which is a print of the bishop preaching to the clergy, with a cock at each side, and another in the first page. the next most celebrated preacher of this class was doctor isaac barrow, the friend, partly tutor, and most learned contemporary of newton, whom charles the second said was an unfair preacher, leaving nothing new to be said by those who followed him. he was once appointed, upon some public occasion, to preach before the dean and chapter in westminster abbey, and gave them a discourse of nearly four hours in length. during the latter part of it, the congregation became so tired of sitting, that they dropped out, one by one, till scarcely another creature besides the dean and choristers were left. courtesy kept the dean in his place, but soon his patience got the better of his manners, "verba per attentam non ibunt cæsaris aurem," and beckoning one of the singing boys, he desired him to go and tell the organist to play him down, which was done. when asked, on descending from the pulpit, if he did not feel exhausted, he replied, "no; only a little tired with standing so long." a third "long-winded preacher" (and they were never admired at either oxford or cambridge, where "short and sweet" is preferred) was doctor samuel parr. he delivered his justly celebrated spital sermon in the accustomed place, christ-church, newgate street, easter tuesday, 1800, before his friend, harvey christian combe, esq., m.p., the celebrated brewer, then lord mayor. "before the service begun," says one of his friends, "i went into the vestry, and found dr. parr seated, with pipes and tobacco placed before him on the table. he evidently felt the importance of the occasion, but felt, at the same time, a confidence in his own powers. when he ascended the pulpit, a profound silence prevailed. the sermon occupied nearly an hour and a quarter in the delivery; and in allusion to its extreme length, it was remarked by a lady, who had been asked her opinion of it, "enough there is, and more than enough"--the first words of its first sentence,--a _bon mot_ he is said to have received with good humour. as he and the lord mayor were coming out of the church, the latter, albeit unused to the facetious mode, "well," said dr. parr to him, always anxious for well-merited praise, "how did you like the sermon? let me have the suffrage of your strong and honest understanding." "why, doctor," returned his lordship, "there were four things in your sermon i did _not_ like to hear." "state them," replied parr, eagerly. "why, to speak frankly, then," said combe, "they were the quarters of the church clock, which struck four times before you had finished it." "i once saw, lying in the chapter coffee-house," says dyer, in a letter printed in parriana, "the doctor's _spital sermon_, with a comical caricature of him, in the pulpit, preaching and smoking at the same time, with _ex fumo dare lucem_ issuing from his mouth." another class of preachers at cambridge, and eke at oxford, have taken an opposite course, and from their being to be had at all times, have at the former place, obtained the _soubriquet_ "hack preachers." in the _gradus ad cantabrigiam_, they are described as "the common _exhibitioners_ at st. mary's, employed in the service of defaulters and absentees. it must be confessed, however," adds this writer, "that these hacks are good fast _trotters_, as they commonly go over the course in twenty minutes, and sometimes less." gilbert wakefield, whom nobody will suspect of forbearance, calls them, in his memoirs, "a piteous, unedifying tribe." this, however, can scarcely be applied to the ordinary preachers of the present day, and especial care is taken by the heads of the university that the _select_ preachers (one of whom is named for each month during term-time) do not name substitutes themselves. the following poetic _jeu d'esprit_, entitled "_lines on three of the appointed preachers of st. mary's, cambridge, attacking calvin_" were no others than the three eminent living divines, dr. butler, dr. maltby, bishop of chichester, and dr. herbert marsh, bishop of peterborough:- "three preachers, in three distant counties born, the church of england's doctrines do adorn: harsh calvin's mystic tenets were their mark, founded in texts perverted, gloomy, dark. _butler_ in clearness and in force surpassed, _maltby_ with sweetness spoke of ages past; whilst _marsh_ himself, who scarce could further go, with _criticism's_ fetters bound the foe." this _punning_ morsel, of some _standing_ in the university, is scarce surpassed by hood himself:-the three-headed priest. old doctor delve, a scribbling quiz, afraid of critics' jibes, by turns assumes the various phiz of three old classic scribes. though now with high erected head, and lordly strut he'll go by us, he once made lawyers' robes, 'tis said, and called himself _mac-robius_. last night i asked the man to sup, who showed a second alias; he gobbled _all my jellies up_, o greedy _aulus gellius_. on sunday, arrogant and proud, he purrs like any tom-puss, and reads the word of _god so loud_, he must be _theo-pompus_. * * * * * my beef burnt to a cinder. the family of the spintexts have, it appears, very lately put forth a _scion_, in the person of a learned divine, a fellow of trinity college, cambridge, who, being appointed a _select preacher_ in 1835, delivered a discourse of the extraordinary duration of an _hour and a half_! the present father of the university and master of peter-house, dr. francis barnes, upwards of ninety years of age, was one of the heads present. he sat out the first three quarters of an hour, but then began to be _fidgetty_. another quarter of an hour expired,--the preacher was still in the _midst_ of his discourse. the doctor (now become right down impatient,) being seated the lowest (next to the vice-chancellor) in _golgotha_, or the "place of skulls," as it is called, he moved, first one seat higher (the preacher is still on his legs,) then to a third, then to a fourth, then to a fifth; and before the hour and a half had quite expired, he joined one of the junior esquire bedells at the top, to whom he observed, with that original expression of face for which he is so remarkable, "my beef is burnt to a cinder." * * * * * short hand writing was invented by a cantab, according to the first volume of the librarian, published by mr. savage, of the london institution; who says, that the first work printed on the subject was by dr. timothy bright, of cambridge, in 1598, who dedicated it to queen elizabeth, under the title of "an art of short, swift, and secret writing, by character." * * * * * the humble petition of the ladies. before the erection of the senate-house in the university of cambridge, the annual grand commencement was held in st. mary's, the university church. "it seems," says dyer, in his history of cambridge, "that on these occasions (the time when gentlemen take their degrees") that is, the degree of m.a. more particularly, "ladies had been allowed to sit in that part of the church assigned to the doctors, called the throne: it was, however, at length agreed amongst them (the doctors) that ladies should be no longer permitted to sit there; and the place assigned to them was under the throne, in the church." this invasion of what the fair almost looked upon as the abstraction of a right, led to a partial war of words and inuendos, and the matter was at last taken up by the facetious roger long, d.d., master of pembroke college, who, he adds, in his supplement to his history, was celebrated for his treatise on astronomy, and for his erection of a sphere in his college eighteen feet in diameter, still shown there. on this humorous occasion, he was a dissentient against the heads, not a little bustle was excited amongst the cambridge ladies, a subject for a few jokes was afforded the wags of the university, and he produced his famous music-speech, spoken at the public commencement of 1714, on the 6th of july, which was afterwards published, but is now very scarce. it was delivered in an assumed character, as "being the petition of the ladies of cambridge," and is full of whim and humour, in swift's best manner, beginning- "the humble petition of the ladies, who are all ready to be eaten up with the spleen, to think they are to be cooped up in the chancel, where they can neither see nor be seen, but must sit in the dumps by themselves, all stew'd and pent up, and can only peep through the lattice, like so many chickens in a coop; whereas last commencement the ladies had a gallery provided near enough, to see the heads sleep, and the fellow-commoners take snuff." "how he could have delivered it in so sacred a place as st. mary's," says dyer, "is matter of surprise (though they say, good fun, like good coin, is current any where.") it is pleasant to see a grave man descend from his heights, as pope says, "to guard the fair." though nobody could probably be much offended at the time, unless the vice-chancellor, whom, if we understand the writer's meaning, he calls _an old woman_, when he says- "such cross ill-natured doings as these are, even a saint would vex, to see a vice-chancellor so barbarous to one of his own sex." but the doctor had a natural turn for humour, as is further illustrated by the celebrated mr. jones, of welwyn, who calls him "a very ingenious person." "at the public commencement of 1713," he says, "dr. greene (master of bene't college, and afterwards bishop of ely) being then vice-chancellor, mr. long was pitched upon for the tripos performance: it was witty and humorous, and has passed through divers editions. some who remembered the delivery of it, told me, that in addressing the vice-chancellor (whom the university wags usually styled _miss greene_,) the tripos-orator, being a native of norfolk, and assuming the norfolk dialect, instead of saying domine vice-cancellarie, did very audibly pronounce the words thus,--domina vice-cancellaria; which occasioned a general smile in that great auditory." i could recollect several other ingenious repartees of his, if there were occasion, adds mr. jones: but his friend, mr. bonfoy, of ripon, told me this little incident:--that he, and dr. long walking together in cambridge, in a dusky evening, and coming to a short _post_ fixed in the pavement, which mr. b., in the midst of chat and inattention, took to be a boy standing in his way, he said in a hurry, "get out of my way, boy." "that boy, sir," said the doctor, very calmly and slily, "is a _post boy, who turns off his way for nobody_." * * * * * celebrated all over germany. george the second is said, like his father, to have had a strong predilection for his continental dominions, of which his ministers did not fail, occasionally, to take advantage. a residentiary of st. paul's cathedral happening to fall vacant, lord granville was anxious to secure it for the learned translator of demosthenes, dr. john taylor, fellow of st. john's college, cambridge. the king started some scruples at first, but his lordship carried his point easily, on assuring his majesty, which was the fact, that "the doctor's learning was _celebrated all over germany_." * * * * * rebuses at oxford and cambridge. * * * * * beckington. the learned prelate, at whose expense the rector's lodgings were built at lincoln college, oxford, is commemorated by his rebus, a _beacon_ and a _tun_, which may still be traced on the walls. alcock, founder of jesus college, cambridge, and bishop of ely, either _rebused_ himself, or was _rebused_ by others, in almost every conspicuous part of his college, by a _cock perched upon a globe_. on one window is a cock with a label from its mouth, bearing the inscription, [greek: egô eimi alektôr]: to which another opposite bravely crows, says cole, [greek: ontôs kai egô]: "i am a cock!" the one doth cry: and t'other answers--"so am i." there is a plate of him at the head of his celebrated sermon, printed by pynson, in 1498, with a cock at each side, and another on the first page. the subject of the discourse is the crowing of the cock when peter denied christ. eglesfield, the celebrated founder of queen's college, oxford, who was a native of cumberland, and confessor to philippa, queen of edward the third, gave the college, for its arms, three spread eagles; but a singular custom, according to a _rebus_, has been founded upon the fanciful derivation of his name, from _aiguille_, needle, and _fil_, thread; and it became a commemorative mark of respect, continued to this day, for each member of the college to receive from the bursar, on new year's day, a needle and thread, with the advice, "_take this and be thrifty_." "these conceits were not unusual at the time the college was founded," says chalmers, in his history of oxford, "and are sometimes thought trifling, merely because we cannot trace their original use and signification. hollingshed informs us, that when the prince of wales, afterwards henry the fifth, who was educated at this college, went to court in order to clear himself from certain charges of disaffection, he wore a gown of blue satin, full of oilet holes, and at every hole a needle hanging by a silk thread. this is supposed to prove at least, that he was an academician of queen's, and it may be conjectured that this was the original academical dress." the same writer says, the founder ordered that the society should "be called to their meals by the sound of the trumpet (a practice which still prevails, as does a similar one at the middle temple, london,) and the fellows being placed on one side of the table in robes of scarlet (those of the doctor's faced with black fur,) were to oppose in philosophy the poor scholars, who, in token of submission and humility, kept on the other side. as late as the last century the fellows and taberders used sometimes to dispute on sundays and holidays. ashton. in an arched recess of the ante-chapel of st. john's college, cambridge, is the tomb of the celebrated dr. hugh ashton, who took part with the famous bishop fisher (beheaded by henry the eighth) in the erection of the buildings of that learned foundation, and was the second master of the society. his tomb, as fuller observes, exhibits "the marble effigy of his body when living, and the humiliating contrast of his skeleton when dead, with the usual conceit of the times, the figure of an _ash tree_ growing out of a _tun_." lake leman. dyer records of the learned contemporary and antiquarian coadjutor of the late bishop of cloyne, the rev. mr. _leman_, a descendant of the famous sir robert naunton, public orator at cambridge, and a secretary of state, that "his drawing-room was painted _en fresco_ with the scenery around _lake leman_." something in your way. the same relates of himself, that, one day looking at some caricatures at a window in fleet-street, peter pindar (dr. wolcot,) whom he knew, came up to him. "there, sir," said mr. dyer to the doctor, pointing to the _caricatures_, "is something in _your_ way." "and there is something in _your_ way," rejoined the doctor, pointing to some of the ladies of the _pave_ who happened to be passing. peter was sure to pay in full. duns have ever been a grievous source of disquietude to both oxonians and cantabs. tom randolph, the favourite son of ben johnson, made them the subject of his muse. but in no instance, perhaps, have the race been so completely put to the blush, "couleur de rose," as by the following ode on the pleasure of being out of debt. horace, ode xxii. book i. imitated. _integer vitæ scelerisque purus, &c._ i. the man who not a farthing owes, looks down with scornful eye on those who rise by fraud and cunning; though in the _pig-market_ he stand, with aspect grave and clear-starched band, he fears no tradesman's dunning. ii. he passes by each shop in town, nor hides his face beneath his gown, no dread his heart invading; he quaffs the nectar of the _tuns_, or on a spur-gall'd hackney runs to london masquerading. iii. what joy attends a new-paid debt! our _manciple_[9] i lately met, of visage wise and prudent; i on the nail my _battels_ paid, the master turn'd away dismay'd, hear this each oxford student! iv. with justice and with truth to trace the grisly features of his face, exceeds all man's recounting; suffice, he look'd as grim and sour as any lion in the tower, or half starved cat-a-mountain. v. a phiz so grim you scarce can meet, in bedlam, newgate, or the fleet, dry nurse of faces horrid! not buckhorse fierce, with many a bruise, displays such complicated hues on his undaunted forehead. vi. place me on scotland's bleakest hill, provided i can pay my bill, stay ev'ry thought of sorrow; there falling sleet, or frost, or rain, attack a soul resolved, in vain- it may be fair to-morrow. vii. to _haddington_ then let me stray, and take _joe pullen's tree_ away, i'll ne'er complain of phoebus; but while he scorches up the grass, i'll fill a bumper to my lass, and toast her in a rebus. [9] churton says, in his lives of the founders of brazenose college, oxford, that "manciples, the purveyors general of colleges and halls, were formerly men of so much consequence, that, to check their ambition, it was ordered by an express statute, that no manciple should be principal of a hall." queering a dun. a cambridge wag who was skilled in the science of electricity, as well as in the art of _ticking_, having got in pretty deep with his tailor, who was continually _dunning_ him for payment, resolved to give snip "_a settler_," as he said, the next time he mounted his stairs. he accordingly _charged_ his electrifying machine much deeper than usual, and knowing pretty well the time of snip's approach, watched his coming to the foot of the stairs where he _kept_, and ere he could reach the door, fixed the _conductor_ to the _brass handle_. the tailor having long in vain sought occasion to catch him with his _outer_ door not _sported_, was so delighted at finding it so, that, resolving not to lose time, he seized the handle of the _inner_ door, so temptingly exposed to view, determining to introduce himself to his creditor _sans ceremonie_. no sooner, however, did his fingers come in contact with it than the _shock_ followed, so violent, that it stunned him for an instant: but recovering himself, he bolted as though followed, as the poet says, by "ten thousand devils," never again to return. * * * * * gray the poet a contrast to bishop warburton. gray's letters, and bishop warburton's polemical writings, show, that in more respects than one they were gifted with a like temperament: but in the following instances they form a contrast to each other. in the library of the british museum is an interesting letter occasioned by the death of the rev. n. nicholls, ll.b., rector of loud and bradwell, in suffolk, from the pen of the now generally acknowledged author of "the pursuits of literature," j. t. mathias, m.a., in which he says, that shortly after that elegant scholar, and lamented divine, became a student of trinity hall, cambridge, at the age of eighteen, a friend introduced him to gray, the poet, at that time redolent with fame, and resident in peter-house, to speak to whom was honourable; but to be admitted to his acquaintance, or to his familiarity, was the height of youthful, or indeed of any ambition. shortly after this, mr. n. was in a company of which mr. gray was one; and, as it became his youth, he did not enter into conversation, but listened with attention. the subject, however, being general and classical, and as mr. nicholls, even at that early period, was acquainted not only with the greek and latin, but with many of the best italian poets, he ventured, with great diffidence, to offer a short remark, and happened to illustrate what he had said by an apposite quotation from dante. at the name of dante, mr. gray suddenly turned round to him and said, "right: but have you read dante, sir?" "i have endeavoured to understand him," replied mr. n. mr. gray being much pleased with the illustration, and with the taste which it evinced, addressed the chief of his discourse to him for the remainder of the evening, and invited him to his rooms in pembroke hall; and finding him ready and docile, he became attached to him and gave him instruction in the course of his studies, to which, adds mr. mathias, "i attribute the extent and value of his knowledge, and the peculiar accuracy and correct taste which distinguished him throughout life, and which i have seldom observed in any man in a more eminent degree." and i wish every young man of genius might hear and consider, observes mr. m., commenting upon an incident so honourable to all parties, "the value of a word spoke in due season, with modesty and propriety, in the highest, i mean the most learned and virtuous company." what a different spirit was evinced, in the following incident, by that great polemical writer, bishop warburton: but it happily originated the canons of criticism, which were the production of thomas edwards, an etonian and king's college man, where he graduated m.a. in 1734, but missing a fellowship, turned soldier. after he had been some time in the army, says a writer in the gentleman's magazine, for 1779, it so happened that, being at bath, after mr. warburton's marriage to mr. allen's niece, he was introduced at prior park, _en famille_. the conversation not unfrequently turning on literary subjects, mr. warburton generally took the opportunity of showing his superiority in greek, not having the least idea that an officer of the army understood anything of that language, or that mr. edwards had been bred at eton; till one day, being accidentally in the library, mr. edwards took down a greek author, and explained a passage in it in a manner that mr. warburton did not approve. this occasioned no small contest; and mr. edwards (who had now discovered to mr. warburton how he came by his knowledge) endeavoured to convince him, that he did not understand the original language, but that his knowledge arose from french translations. mr. warburton was highly irritated; an incurable breach took place; and this trifling altercation (after mr. edwards had quitted the army and was entered of lincoln's inn) produced _the canons of criticism_. * * * * * bishop barrington's splendid gift, and other traits of him. that munificent prelate and oxonian, dr. shute barrington, sixth son of the first viscount, and the late bishop of durham, a prelate, indeed, whose charities were unbounded, was so conscientious in the discharge of his functions, that he personally examined all candidates for holy orders, and, however strongly they might be recommended, rejected all that appeared unworthy of the sacred trust. on one occasion, a relative, relying for advancement upon his patronage, having intimated a desire to enter the church, the bishop inquired with what preferment he would be contented. "five hundred pounds a year will satisfy all my wants," was the reply. "you shall have it," answered the conscientious prelate: "not out of the patrimony of the church, but out of my private fortune." the same bishop gave the entire of 60,000_l._ at once, for founding schools, unexpectedly recovered in a lawsuit; and amongst other persons of talent, preferred paley to the valuable living of bishop wearmouth, unsolicited and totally unknown to him, save through his valuable writings. * * * * * an admirable pulpit admonition is recorded of the celebrated fellow of trinity college, cambridge, the rev. james scott, m.a., better known as anti-sejanus, who acquired extraordinary eminence as a pulpit orator, both in and out of the university. he frequently preached at st. mary's, where crowds of the university attended him. on one occasion he offended the undergraduates, by the delivery of a severe philippic against gaming; which they deeming a work of supererogation, evinced their displeasure by _scraping_ the floor with their feet (an old custom now scarcely resorted to twice in a century.) he, however, severely censured them for this act of indecorum, shortly afterwards, in another discourse, for which he selected the appropriate text, "_keep thy feet when thou goest to the house of god_." * * * * * the simplicity of great minds. it is not surprising that our distinguished philosophers and mathematicians have rarely evinced much knowledge of men and manners, or of the ordinary circumstances of life, since they are so much occupied in telling "the number of the stars," in tracing the wonders of creation, or in balancing the mental and physical powers of man. our illustrious cantab, bacon, says his biographer, was cheated by his servants at the bottom, whilst he sat in abstraction at the top of his table; and he of whom dr. johnson said (the great and good newton,) that had he lived in the days of ancient greece, he would have been worshipped as a deity; of whom, too, the poet wrote- "nature and nature's laws lay hid in night, god said, 'let newton be,' and all was light," caused a smaller hole to be perforated in his room door, when his favourite cat had a kitten, not remembering that it would follow puss through the larger one. another more modern and less distinguished but not less amiable cantab, who was _senior wrangler_ in his year, one day inquired-"of what country marines were?" another distinguished _senior wrangler_, professor and divine, occasionally amuses his friends by rehearsing the fact, that once, having, to preach in the neighbourhood of cambridge, he hired a blind horse to ride the distance on, and his path laying cross a common, where the road was but indistinctly marked, he became so absorbed in abstract calculations, that, forgetting to guide his steed aright, he and the horse wandered so far awry, that they tumbled "head over heels," as the folks say, upon a cow slumbering by the way side. _on dit_, the same cantab was one morning caught over his breakfast-fire with an egg in his hand, to minute the time by, and his-watch doing to a turn in the saucepan. when he went in for a.b. his natural _diffidence_ prevented his doing much in the first four days of the senate house examination, and he was consequently _bracketted low_: but rallying his confidence, he challenged all the men of his years, and was _senior wrangler_. this incident caused him to be received with rapturous applause, upon his being presented to the vice-chancellor for his degree, on the following saturday. a few days after he is said to have been in london, and entered one of the larger theatres at the same instant with royalty itself:--the audience rose with one accord, and thunders of applause followed! "_this is too much_," said our cantab to his friend, modestly hiding his face in his hat, having, in the _simplicity_ of his heart, taken the _huzzas and claps_ to be an _improved_ edition of the senate house. another cantab, who was also a senior wrangler, and guilty of many singularities, as well as some follies, one who has _unjustly_ heaped reproach on the head of his _alma mater_ (see his "progress of a senior wrangler at cambridge," in the numbers of the defunct london magazine,) had the following quaternion posted on his room door in trinity:- "king solomon in days of old, the wisest man was reckon'd: i fear as much cannot be told of solomon the second." * * * * * a host of singularities are recorded of the famous cantab and etonian, the rev. george harvest, b.d., who was one day walking in the temple gardens, london, with the son of his patron, the great speaker onslow, when he picked up a curious pebble, observing he would keep it for his friend, lord bute. he and his companion were going to _the beef-steak club_, then held in ivy-lane. mr. onslow asked him what o'clock it was, upon which he took out his watch, and observed they had but ten minutes good. another turn or two was proposed, but they had scarcely made half the length of the walk, when he coolly put the pebble into his _fob_, and threw his watch into the thames. he was at another time in a boat with the same gentleman, when he began to read a favourite greek author (for, like porson, his coat pockets generally contained a moderate library) with such emphasis and strange gesticulations, that his wig and hat fell into the water, and he coolly stepped overboard to recover them, without once dreaming that it was not _terra-firma_, and was _fished_ out with great difficulty. he frequently wrote a letter to one person, forgot to subscribe his name to it, and directed it to another. on one occasion he provided himself with three sermons, having been appointed to preach before the archdeacon and clergy of the district. some wags got them, and having intermixed the leaves, stitched them together in that state, and put them into his sermon-case. he mounted the pulpit at the usual time, took his text, but soon surprised his reverend audience by taking leave of the thread of his discourse. he was, however, so insensible to the dilemma in which he was placed, that he went preaching on. at last the congregation became impatient, both from the length and the nature of his sermon. first the archdeacon slipped out, then the clergy, one by one, followed by the rest of the congregation; but he never flagged, and would have finished his triple, thrice-confused discourse, had not the clerk reminded him that they were the sole occupants of the lately-crowded church. he went down to cambridge to vote for his eton contemporary, the celebrated lord sandwich, when the latter was candidate for the dignity of high-steward of the university, in opposition to pitt. his lordship invited him to dine with some friends at the rose inn. "_apropos_, my lord," exclaimed harvest, during the meal, "whence do you derive your nick-name of _jemmy twitcher_?" "why," said his lordship, "from some foolish fellow." "no, no," said harvest, "not from some, for every body calls you so;" on which his lordship, knowing it to be the favourite dish of his quondam friend, put a huge slice of plum-pudding upon his plate, which effectually stopped his mouth. his lordship has the credit of being the originator and first president of the cambridge oriental club. he was also the inventor of sandwiches. once passing a whole day at some game of which he was fond, he became so absorbed in its progress, that he denied himself time to eat, in the usual way, and ordered a slice of beef between two pieces of toasted bread, which he masticated without quitting his game; and that sort of refreshment has ever since borne the designation of _a sandwich_. parkes, in his musical memoirs, gives him the credit of lapsus linguæ. it happened, he says, that during a feast given to his lordship by the corporation of worcester, when he was first lord of the admiralty, a servant let fall a dish with a boiled neat's tongue, as he was bringing it to table. the mayor expressing his concern to his lordship, "never mind," said he, "it's only a _lapsus linguæ_!" which witty saying creating a great deal of mirth, one of the aldermen present, at a dinner he gave soon after, instructed his servant to throw down a roast leg of mutton, that he too might have his joke. this was done; "never mind," he exclaimed to his friends, "it's only a _lapsus linguæ_." the company stared, but he begun a roaring laugh, _solus_. finding nobody joined therein, he stopped his mirth, saying, that when lord sandwich said it, every body laughed, and he saw no reason why they should not laugh at him. this sally had the desired effect, and the company, one and all, actually shook their sides, and our host was satisfied. * * * * * oxford and cambridge loyalty. in 1717, george i. and his ministers had contrived to make themselves so unpopular, that the badges of the disaffected, oaken boughs, were publicly worn on the 29th of may, and white roses on the birth-day of the pretender, the 10th of june. oxford, and especially the university, manifested such strong feelings, that it was deemed expedient to send a military force there: cambridge, more inclined to the whig principles of the court and government, was at the same time complimented with a present of books. upon this occasion, dr. trapp, the celebrated oxford poet and divine, wrote the following epigram:- our royal master saw, with heedful eyes, the wants of his two universities: troops he to oxford sent, as knowing why that learned body wanted loyalty; but books to cambridge gave, as well discerning how that right loyal body wanted learning. cambridge, as may be well supposed, was not backward in retorting: and an able champion she found in her equally celebrated scholar, physician, and benefactor, sir william blowne (founder of a scholarship and the three gold medals called after his name,) who replied to dr. trapp in the following quaternion:- the king to oxford sent a troop of horse, for tories know no argument but force: with equal grace, to cambridge books he sent, for whigs allow no force but argument. not that cambridge was behind oxford in supporting the unfortunate charles the first, to whom the several colleges secretly conveyed nearly all their ancient plate; and cromwell, in consequence, retaliated by confining and depriving numbers of her most distinguished scholars, both laymen and divines, many of whom died in exile: and the commissioners of parliament, with a taste worthy of the worst barbarians, caused many of the buildings to be despoiled of their architectural ornaments and exquisite pieces of sculpture and painted glass. it was at this time appeared the following celebrated poetic trifle, extant in the oxford sausage, known as the cushion plot, written by herbert beaver, esq., of corpus christi college, oxford, when "gaby" (as the then president, dr. shaw, is called, who had been a zealous jacobite,) suddenly, on the accession of george the first, became a still more zealous patron of the interests of the house of hanover. when gaby possession had got of the _hall_, he took a survey of the chapel and all, since that, like the rest, was just ready to fall, _which nobody can deny_. and first he began to examine the chest, where he found an old _cushion_ which gave him distaste; the first of the kind that e'er _troubled his rest,_ _which nobody can deny_. two letters of gold on this cushion were rear'd; two letters of gold once by gaby rever'd, but now what was loyalty, treason appear'd: _which nobody can deny_. "j. r. (quoth the don, in soliloquy bass) "see the works of this damnable jacobite race! "we'll out with the j, and put g in its place:" _which nobody can deny_. and now to erase these letters so rich, for scissors and bodkin his fingers did itch, for converts in politics go _thorough-stich_: _which nobody can deny_: the thing was about as soon done as said, poor _j_ was deposed and _g_ reigned in his stead; such a quick revolution sure never was read! _which nobody can deny_. then hey for preferment--but how did he stare, when convinced and ashamed of not being aware, that _j_ stood for jennet,[10] for raymond the _r_, _which nobody can deny_. then beware, all ye priests, from hence i advise, how ye choose christian names for the babes ye baptize, for if gaby don't like 'em he'll pick out their i's, _which nobody can deny_. [10] the benefactor who gave the college the cushion. * * * * * terræ filius relates the following instance of the danger of drinking the king's health. mr. carty of university college, and mr. meadowcourt of merton college, oxford (says this writer,) were suspended from proceeding to their next degree, in 1716, the first for a period of one, the second for a period of two years, the latter further, not to be permitted "to supplicate for his grace, until he confesses his manifold crimes, and asks pardon _upon his knees, for breaking out to that degree of impudence_ (when the proctor admonished him to go home from the tavern at an unseasonable hour,) as to command all the company, with a loud voice, _to drink king_ george's _health_." and, strange enough, persisting in his refusal to ask pardon, as required, he only ultimately obtained his degree by pleading the _act of grace_ of the said king george, enacted in favour of those who had been guilty of treason, &c. these were, it appears, both fellows of colleges, and with several others, who were likewise put in the _black-book_, were members of a society in oxford, called "the constitution club," at a meeting of which it was that the king was _toasted_. amongst the cambridge clubs was one formed, in 1757, by the _wranglers_ of that year, including the late professor waring; the celebrated reformer dr. jebb the munificent founder of the cambridge hebrew scholarships; mr. tyrwhitt; and other learned men. it was called _the hyson club_, the entertainments being only tea and conversation. paley, who joined it after he became tutor of christ college, is thus made to speak of it by a writer in the new monthly magazine for 1825:--"we had a club at cambridge, of political reformers; it was called the hyson club, as we met at tea time; and various schemes were discussed among us. jebb's plan was, that the people should meet and declare their will; and if the house of commons should pay due attention to the will of the people, why, well and good; if not, the people were to convey their will into effect. we had no idea that we were talking treason. i was always an advocate for _braibery and corrooption_: they raised an outcry against me, and affected to think i was not in earnest. 'why,' said i, 'who is so mad as to wish to be governed by force? or who is such a fool as to expect to be governed by virtue? there remains, then, nothing but _braibery and corrooption_.'" no particular subjects were proposed for discussion at their meetings, but accident or the taste of individuals naturally led to topics, such as literary and scientific characters might freely discuss. at a meeting where the debate was on the justice or expediency of making some alteration in the ecclesiastical constitution of the country, for the relief of tender consciences, dr. gordon, of emmanuel college, late precentor of lincoln, vehemently opposed the arguments of dr. jebb, then tutor of peter house, who supported the affirmative, by exclaiming, "you mean, sir, to impose upon us a new church government." "you are mistaken," said paley, who was present, "jebb only wants to ride his own horse, not to force you to get up behind him." * * * * * the retrogradation amongst masters, tutors, and scholars. discipline, like every thing else characteristic of our elder institutions, has for some years been fast giving way in our universities. statutes are permitted to slumber unheeded, as not fitted to the present _advanced_ state of society; and in colleges where it would, as late as the beginning of the nineteenth century, have been almost a crime to have been seen in hall or chapel without _a white cravat on_, scholars now strut in black ones, "unawed by _imposition_" or a fine. i can remember the time when this inroad upon decent appearance first begun, and when the dean of _our_ college put forth his strong arm, and insisted on white having the preference. men then used to wear their black till they came to the _hall or chapel_ door, then take them off, and walk in with none at all, and again twist them round the neck, heedless whether the tie were _brummell_ or not, on issuing forth from prayers or commons. like the whigs, they have by perseverance carried their point, and strut about in black, wondering what they shall next attempt. * * * * * there is an on-dit, that at the time dr. w---became master of st. john's college, cambridge, the tutors used to oblige (and it was a custom for) the scholars to stand, cap in hand (if any tutor entered a court where they might be passing,) till the said tutor disappeared. this was so rigorously enforced, that the scholars complained to the new master, and he desired the tutors to relax the custom. this order they refused to comply with. upon this the doctor took down from a shelf a copy of the _college statutes_, and coolly read to them a section, where the fellows of the same were enjoined to stand, cap in hand, till the master passed by, wherever they met him; and the doctor, it is added, insisted upon its observance, on pain of ejection, till at length the tutors gave way. * * * * * the worcester goblin. foote the comedian was, in his youthful days, a student of worcester college, oxford, under the care of the provost, dr. gower. the doctor was a learned and amiable man, but a pedant. the latter characteristic was soon seized upon by the young satirist, as a source whereon to turn his irresistible passion for wit and humour. the church at this time belonging to worcester college, fronted a lane were cattle were turned out to graze, and (as was then the case in many towns, and is still in some english villages) the church porch was open, with the bell-ropes suspended in the centre. foote tied a wisp of hay to one of them, and this was no sooner scented by the cattle at night, than it was seized upon as a dainty morsel. tug, tug, went one and all, and "ding-dong" went the bell at midnight, to the astonishment of the doctor, the sexton, the whole parish, and the inmates of the college. the young wag kept up the joke for several successive nights, and reports of ghosts, goblins, and frightful visions, soon filled the imagination of old and young with alarm, and many a simple man and maiden whisked past the scene of midnight revel ere the moon had "filled her horns," struck with fear and trembling. the doctor suspected some trick. he, accordingly, engaged the sexton to watch with him for the detection of the culprit. they had not long lain hid, under favour of a dark night, when "ding-dong" went the bell again: both rushed from their hiding places, and the sexton commenced the attack by seizing the cow's tail, exclaiming, "'tis a gentleman commoner,--i have him by the tail of his gown!" the doctor approached on the opposite tack, and seized a horn with both hands, crying, "no, no, you blockhead, 'tis the postman,--i have caught the rascal by his _blowing-horn_!" and both bawled lustily for assistance, whilst the cow kicked and flung to get free; but both held fast till lights were procured, when the real offender stood revealed, and the laugh of the whole town was turned upon the doctor and his fellow-_night_-errant, the sexton. * * * * * records of the cambridge triposes. the spoon, in the words of lord byron's don juan, "---the name by which we cantabs please, to dub the last of honours in degrees," is the annual subject for university mirth, and if not the _fountain_, is certainly the very _foundation_ of cambridge university honours: without _the spoon_, not a man in the _tripos_ would have a _leg to stand upon_: in fact, it would be a top without a bottom, _minus_ the spoon. yet "this luckless wight," says the compiler of the cambridge tart, is annually a universal butt and laughing-stock of the whole senate-house. he is the last of those men who take _honours_ of his year, and is called a "_junior optime_," and notwithstanding his being superior to them all, the lowest of the [greek: hoi polloi] or gregarious undistinguished bachelors, think themselves entitled to shoot their pointless arrows against the "_wooden spoon_," and to reiterate the perennial remark, that, "_wranglers_" are born with _golden_ spoons in their mouths; "_senior optimes_" with _silver_ spoons; "_junior optimes_" with _wooden spoons_, and the [greek: hoi polloi] with _leaden_ spoons in their mouths. it may be here, however, observed, that it is unjust towards the _undistinguished bachelors_ to say that "he (the spoon) is superior to them all." he is generally a man who has read hard, _id est_, has _done his best_, whilst the undistinguished bachelors, it is well known, include many men of considerable, even superior talents, but having no taste for _mathematics_, have merely read sufficient to get a degree; consequently _have not done their best_. the muse has thus invoked the wooden spoon. when sage _mathesis_ calls her sons to fame, the _senior wrangler_ bears the highest name. in academic honour richly deckt, he challenges from all deserved respect. but, if to visit friends he leaves his gown, and flies in haste to cut a dash in town, the wrangler's title, little understood, suggests a man in disputation good; and those of common talents cannot raise, their humble thoughts a wrangler's mind to praise. such honours to an englishman soon fade, like laurel wreaths, the victor's brows that shade. no such misfortune has that man to fear, whom fate ordains the last in fame's career; his honours fresh remain, and e'en descend to soothe his family, or chosen friend. and while he lives, he _wields_ the boasted prize, whose value all can feel, the weak, the wise; displays in triumph his distinguished boon, the solid honours of the wooden spoon! that many have borne off this prize who might have _done better_, is well known too. one learned cantab in that situation felt so assured of his fate, when it might have been more honourable, had he been gifted with prudence and perseverance, that on the morning when it is customary to give out the _honours_, in the senate house, in their _order of merit_, he provided himself with a large _wooden spoon_, and when there was a call from the gallery, for "_the spoon_" (for then the undergraduates were allowed to express their likes and dislikes publicly, a custom now _suppressed_,) he turned the shafts of ridicule aside by thrusting the emblem of his honours up high over his head,--an act that gained him no slight applause. another cantab, of precisely the same _grade_ as to talent, who was second in the _classical tripos_ of his year, gave a supper on the occasion of the spoon being awarded to him, which commenced with _soup_, each man being furnished with a ponderous _wooden spoon_ to _lap_ it with. another, now a fellow of trinity college, who more than once bore off the _porson prize_, being in this _place of honour_, a wag nailed a large _wooden spoon_ to his door. hundreds of other tricks have been put upon _the spoon_, next to whom are-the poll; or, [greek: hoi polloi]: which, said the great bentley, in a sermon preached before the university of cambridge, on the 5th of november, 1715, "is a known expression in profane authors, opposed sometimes, [greek: tois sophois], _to the wise_, and ever denotes the most, and generally the meanest of mankind." "besides the mirth devoted character," (_the wooden spoon_,) says the writer first quoted, there "are always a few, a chosen few, a degree lower than the [greek: hoi polloi], constantly written down alphabetically, who serve to exonerate the '_wooden spoon_,' in part, from the ignominy of the day; and these undergo various epithets, according to their accidental number. if there was but one, he was called _bion_, who carried all his learning about him without the slightest inconvenience. if there were two, they were dubbed the _scipios; damon and pythias; hercules and atlas; castor and pollux_. if three, they were _ad libitum_, the _three graces_; or the _three furies; the magi_; or _noah_, _daniel_, and _job_. if seven, they were _the seven wise men_; or _the seven wonders of the world_. if nine, they were the unfortunate _suitors of the muses_. if twelve, they became the _apostles_. if thirteen, either they deserved a round dozen, or, like the americans, should bear thirteen stripes on their _coat and arms_. lastly, they were sometimes styled _constant quantities_, and _martyrs_; or the thirteenth was designated the _least_ of the _apostles_; and, should there be a fourteenth, he was _unworthy to be called an apostle_!" an unknown pen has immortalized the [greek: hoi polloi], by the following-ode to the unambitious and undistinguished bachelors. "post tot naufragia tutus."--virg. thrice happy ye, through toil and dangers past, who rest upon that peaceful shore, where all your fagging is no more, and gain the long-expected port at last. yours are the sweets, the ravishing delights, to doze and snore upon your noontide beds; no chapel-bell your peaceful sleep affrights, no problems trouble now your empty heads. yet, if the heavenly muse is not mistaken, and poets say the muse can rightly guess, i fear, full many of you must confess that you have barely _saved your bacon_. amidst th' appalling problematic war, where dire equations frown'd in dread array, ye never strove to find the arduous way, to where proud granta's honours shine afar. within that dreadful mansion have ye stood, when _moderators_ glared with looks uncivil, how often have ye d--d their souls, their blood, and wished all _mathematics_ at the devil! but ah! what terrors on that fatal day your souls appall'd, when, to your stupid gaze, appear'd the _biquadratic's_ darken'd maze, and problems ranged in horrible array! hard was the task, i ween, the labour great, to the wish'd port to find your uncouth way- how did ye toil, and fag, and fume, and fret, and--what the bashful muse would blush to say. but now your painful terrors all are o'er- cloth'd in the glories of a full-sleev'd gown, ye strut majestically up and down, and now ye fag, and now ye fear no more. but although many men of this class are not gifted with that species of perception suited to mathematical studies, however desirable it may be that the mind should be subject to that _best of all correctives_, the abstruse sciences, they are often possessed of what may be justly denominated "great talents." a remarkable instance of this fact was manifested in the person of a late fellow of trinity (now no longer so--"for conscience-sake,") who wrote a tragedy whilst still a boy of sixteen or seventeen, that was produced at covent garden with success, obtained the only vacant _craven scholarship_ in his freshman's year (always considered a high test of classical ability,) and carried off other classical university prizes. yet he, when he came to be examined for his degree, though he sat and wrote out _whole books of homer_ from memory, he was unable to go through the first problem of euclid: for when told that he _must_ do something _in mathematics_, he wrote down, after a fashion, the a's and b's, but without describing the figure, a necessary accompaniment. of the omission he was reminded by the examiner--"oh! _the picture, you mean_," was his reply, and, drawing a triangle of a true _isosceles_ cut, instead of an _equilateral_ one, he added thereto, _a la heraldique_, by way of supporters, two _ovals_ of equal height, which completed his only mathematical effort. his learning and talents, however, procured him his degree and a fellowship. to others, mathematics are an inexhaustible source of delight, and such a mind it was that penned _the address to mathematics_, in "the cambridge tart," beginning- "with thee, divine mathesis, let me live! effuse source of evidence and truth!" porson gave a singular proof of his "fondness for algebra," says the _sexagenarian_, by composing an equation in greek, the original being comprised in one line. when resident in college, he would frequently amuse himself by sending to his friends scraps of greek of a like character, for solution. the purport of one was, "find the value of _nothing_." the next time he met his friend, he addressed him with, "well, have you succeeded in finding the _value of nothing_?" "yes," replied his friend. "what is it?" "sixpence i gave the gyp for bringing your note," was the rejoinder. the late professor vince meeting a fellow of st. john's college, cambridge, the next morning after a high wind had blown down several of the fine old trees in the walks, some of three centuries' standing, he was addressed with, "a terrible storm last night, mr. professor." "yes," he replied, "it was a rare mathematical wind." "mathematical wind!" exclaimed the other, "how so, doctor?" "why you see it has _extracted a great many roots_!" a johnian one day eating _apple-pie_ by the side of a johnian fellow, an inveterate punster, he facetiously observed, "he was raising apple-pie to the tth power:" another fellow walking down the hall, after dinner, and slipping some distance on _smooth flags_, looked over his shoulder and observed to one following him--"_an inclined plane_." another cantab, when a student of bene't, now rector of h----, suffolk, sung his song of "divine mathesis:"- let mathematicians and geometricians talk of circles' and triangles' charms, the figure i prize is a girl with bright eyes, and the circle that's formed by her arms. * * * * * the classical tripos and the wooden wedge. this class of cambridge honours, for which none can become candidates but those who have attained mathematical distinction, was instituted by a grace of the senate, in 1822. as its title implies, it is divided into three classes. the first examination took place in 1824, when the cantabs were saved the labour of _gestation_, by the last man in the third class being named _wedgewood_, which was transposed by some wag to _wooden wedge_--and by that _soubriquet_, equivalent to the _wooden spoon_, all men so circumstanced are now designated in the colloquial phraseology of the university. it is but justice to mr. w. to add, however, that he also attained the high mathematical distinction of eighth wrangler of his year. by the same decree of the senate a previous examination was established at cambridge (answering to the oxford "little-go,") by which all students are required to undergo an examination in classics and divinity, in the lent term of the second year of their residence. the successful candidates are divided into two classes only: but there is always a select few who are _allowed_ to pass, after an extra trial of skill: these are lumped at the end, and have been designated "_elegant extracts_." some wag furnished jackson's oxford journal with this syllogistic exercise for the little-go men. no cat has _two_ tails. a cat has _one_ tail _more_ than no cat. _ergo_--a cat has three tails. the following song (in the true spirit of a non-reading man) is from the pen of a learned seceding cantab, the late dr. john disney, who, after graduating at peter-house, cambridge, ll.b., and for some time officiating as a minister of the established church, resigned a living "for conscience sake," and closed his career as minister of the unitarian chapel, in essex-street, strand:- come, my good college lads! and attend to my lays, i'll show you the folly of poring o'er books; for all you get by it is mere empty praise, or a poor meagre fellowship, and sour looks. _chorus._ then lay by your books, lads, and never repine; and cram not your attics, with dry mathematics, but moisten your clay with a bumper of wine. the first of mechanics was old archimedes, who play'd with rome's ships as we'd play cup and ball, to play the same game i can't see where the need is, or why we should fag mathematics at all. then lay by your books, lads, &c. great newton found out the binomial law, to raise x -|y to the power of b; found the distance of planets that he never saw, and we most probably never shall see. then lay by your books, lads, &c. let whiston and ditton star-gazing enjoy, and taste all the sweets mathematics can give; let us for our time find a better employ, and knowing life's sweets, let us learn how to live. then lay by your books, lads, &c. these men _ex absurdo_, conclusions may draw, perpetual motion they never could find; not one of the set, lads, can balance a straw, and longitude seeking is hunting the wind. then lay by your books, lads, &c. if we study at all, let us study the means to make ourselves friends, and to keep them when made; learn to value the blessings kind heaven ordains, to make others happy, let that be our trade. _finale._ let each day be better than each day before, without pain or sorrow, to-day or to-morrow, may we live, my good lads, to see many days more. * * * * * a dreadful fit of rheumatism. two cantabs, brothers, named whiter, one the learned author of _etymologicum magnum_, the other an amiable divine; both were remarkable, the one for being six, the other about five feet in height. the taller was eccentric and often absent in his habits, the other a wag. both were invited to the same party, and the taller being first ready, slipped on the coat of the shorter, and wended his way into a crowded room of fashionables, to whom his eccentricities being familiar, they were not much surprised at seeing him encased in a coat, the tail of which scarcely reached his hips, whilst the sleeves ran short of his elbows; in fact, it was a perfect _strait jacket_, and he had not been long seated before he began to complain to every body that he was suffering from a dreadful fit of _rheumatism_. one or two suggested the _tightness_ of his coat as the cause of his pain; but he remained rheumatic in spite of them, till his brother's approach threw the whole party into a fit of convulsive laughter, as he came sailing into the room, his coat-tails sweeping the room, _en traine_, and his arms performing the like service on either side, as he exclaimed, to his astonished brother, "why, bob, you have got my coat on!" bob then discovered that his friends' hints bordered on the truth, and the two exchanged garments forthwith, to the amusement of all present. * * * * * dr. parr an ingrate. the doctor was once staying with the late great and good mr. roscoe, when many of the most distinguished whigs were his guests also, out of compliment to whom the doctor forbore to indulge in his customary after-dinner pipe. at length, when wine and words had circulated briskly, and twilight began to set in, he insisted upon mounting to his own room to have a whiff _solus_. having groped his way up stairs, somewhat exhausted with the effort, he threw himself into what he took to be an arm-chair. suddenly the ears of the party were assailed with awful moans and groans, as of some one in tribulation. mr. roscoe hastened to learn the cause, and no sooner reached the stairs' foot, than he heard the doctor calling lustily for his man john, adding, in more supplicatory accents, "will nobody help a christian man in distress! will nobody help a christian man in distress!" mr. roscoe mounted to the rescue, but could not forbear a hearty laugh, as he beheld dr. p. locked in the close embrace of a large old-fashioned grate, which he had mistaken for an arm-chair, and from which he was in vain struggling to relieve himself. * * * * * mon dieu--le diable. when robert the devil was first produced at paris, and the opera going folk were on the _qui vive_ for the promised appearance of the prince of darkness, a certain cantab, the facial line of whose countenance bordered on the _demoniacal_, went to see him make his bow to a parisian audience, and happened to enter the same _loge_ from whence a parisian belle was anxiously watching the _entrée_ of monsieur le robert. attracted by the creaking of the _loge_ door, on suddenly turning her head in its direction, she caught a glimpse of our cambridge friend, and was so forcibly struck with the expression of his countenance, that she went into hysterics, exclaiming, "mon dieu! le diable!" * * * * * some critical civilities. the famous editor of demosthenes, john taylor, d.d. being accused of saying bishop warburton was no scholar, denied it, but owned he always thought so. upon this warburton called him "the learned dunce." when parr, in the british critic for 1795, called porson "a giant in literature," and "a prodigy in intellect," the professor took it in dudgeon, and said, "_what right has any one to tell the height of a man he cannot measure?_" a dutch commentator having called bentley "egregius" and "[greek: ho panu]," "what right, (said the doctor) has that fellow to quote me; "_does he think that i will set my pearls in his dunghill_?" baxter, in the second edition of his horace, said the great bentley seemed to him "rather to have buried horace under a heap of rubbish than to have illustrated him." and bentley said of joshua barnes, who, to please his religious wife, composed a greek ode to prove king solomon wrote homer's iliad, that he was "[greek: honos pros lyran]--_asinus ad lyram_:" joshua replied, that they who said this of him had not understanding enough to be poets, or wanted the [greek: ho nous pros lyran]. * * * * * sir busick and sir isaac again. i have before spoken of these two cambridge knights and rival physicians, but there yet remains to be told of them, that on their meeting each other, perchance, in the street or the senate house, the latter addressing his rival in an ironical speech of condolence, to the effect, "i regret to hear you are ill, sir busick." "sir, _i sick_!" (sir isaac) retorted the wit, "i never was better in my life!" many of my readers have no doubt seen the anecdote of voltaire's building a church, and causing to be engraved on the front thereof, the vain record, "_voltaire erexit hoc templum deo_." a similar spirit seized a mr. cole of cambridge, who left money either to erect the church or the steeple of st. clement's, in bridge-street, of that town, on condition that his name was placed on the front of it. the condition was complied with to the letter, thus, by the tasteful judgment of some cambridge wag:-cole: deum. an admirably turned pun, which, i may add, for the benefit of my english readers, signifies, _worship god_. i have already noticed the _mathematical_ "_pons asinorum_" of our mother of cambridge. one of her waggish sons has likewise contrived, for their amusement, a _classical pons asinorum_, known as the freshman's puzzle. i knew a trinity man of absent habits, who actually, after residing two years in college, having occasion to call upon an old school fellow, a scholar of bene't (_id est_, corpus christi college,) before it was _rebuilt_, was so little acquainted with the localities of the university, that he was obliged to inquire his way, though not two hundred yards from trinity. such a man could scarcely be expected to know, what most cantabs do, that qui church, which is situated about four miles from cambridge, "rears its head" in rural simplicity in the midst of the _open fields_, seemingly without the "bills of mortality;" for not so much as a cottage keeps it in countenance. this gave occasion for a cambridge wag to invent the following puzzle:- "templum quistat in agris," which has caused many a freshman a sleepless night, who, ignorant of the _status_ qui, has racked his brains to translate the above, _minus_ a quod _pro_ qui. * * * * * a sly humourist. edmund gurnay, b.d., fellow of corpus christi college, cambridge, in 1601, was a sly humourist. the master had a great desire to get the garden to himself, and, either by threats or persuasion, get all the rest of the fellows to resign their keys; but upon his application to gurnay, he absolutely refused to part with his right. "i have got the other fellows' keys," quoth the master. "then pray, master, keep them, and you and i will shut them all out." "sir, i expect to be obliged; am i not your master?" "yes, sir (said gurnay;) and am i not your fellow?" at another time he was complained of to the bishop, for refusing to wear the surplice, and was cited to appear before him, and told, that he expected he should always wear it; whereupon, he came home, and rode a journey with it on. this reminds one of a story of a noble oxonian, then mr. afterwards lord lyttleton, to whom the epithet of "_reprobus_," they say, might have been applied with more justice than it was to the famous saxon bishop, st. wulstan, by the monks of his day. humour was his lordship's natural element, and whilst resident at christ church, oxford, he dressed himself in a bright scarlet hunting coat, top-boots and spurs, buckskin breeches, &c., and putting his gown over all, presented himself to the head of his college, who was a strict disciplinarian. "good god! mr. lyttleton," exclaimed the dean, "this is not a dress fit to be seen in a college." "i beg your pardon," said the wag, "i thought myself in perfect costume! will you be pleased to tell me how i should dress, mr. dean?" the dean was at this time vice-chancellor, and happened to be in his robes of office. "you should dress like me, sir," said the doctor, referring to his black coat, tights, knee-buckles, and silk stockings. mr. lyttleton thanked him and left, but to the doctor's astonishment, he the next day presented himself at the deanery, drest in vice-chancellor's robes, &c., an exact fac-simile of the dean himself, and when rebuked coolly observed, that he had followed the dean's directions to the letter. it is related of the same oxford wag, that having a party to supper with him, and being anxious to play the dean some harmless trick, as his delight was to annoy him, he seized a potato off the dish, stuck it on a fork, and bolted off with it to the deanery, followed by some of his boon companions. this was at one, two, or three in the morning, when all the rest of the college, and of course the dean, were locked in the embrace of somnus. mr. lyttleton, however, resolving to have his joke, began thundering away at the dean's knocker, till roused at last, he put his head out at the window, and in a rage demanded the wants of the applicant. "do you think, mr. dean," said mr. l., holding up to his view the _forked_ potato with the coolest effrontery imaginable; "do you think, mr. dean, that this is a potato fit to put upon a gentleman's table?" dr. westphalinge, canon of christ church, afterwards bishop of hereford, and one of the commissioners sent to oxford to abolish _popish practices_, by elizabeth, says bishop godwyn, was a person of such consummate gravity, "that during a familiar acquaintance with him for many years, he never once saw him laugh,"--"_nunquam in risum viderim solutum_." as an antidote to such eternal gravity, i can scarcely do better than append the following aristophanic morsel, attributed to porson, and cry "hold, enough!" chorus of printers' imps--"enough!" inventory of goods for sale. [greek: blankêtoi, kyltoi, duo bolsteres, êde pilôbêr kai en matresson, kai leukon kaliko kirten, kai mia karpettê, kai cheston maiganoion eis kaunterpannos, kai graton kasto sidêzon êde duô bouroi, duo tabloi, kai duo dittô. touelloi dôsen, dôsen phaukoi te, niphoi te sautpan kai steupan, spitton kai smôkon iakon gridiron, pheirpan, tongoi, phendêr te, pokêr te, koppêz kai boilêr kai killêr êde syeltob. kai en baskêton kata bakchous, kai duo pottyx, kai en drippinpan, kuleres duo, kai salamandêr kai duo p**pottoi, spittinpan, peip te to bakchô.] the end. * * * * * chesnut street, june, 1835 new works lately published, and preparing for publication, by e. l. carey & a. hart, philad. in three volumes, 12mo. jacob faithful; or, life on the water. complete. by the author of "peter simple," "king's own," &c. "it is replete with amusement and oddity. poor jacob was born on the water. 'it was,' says he, 'in a floating sort of a box, called a lighter, and upon the river thames, that i first smelt the mud.'"--_baltimore gazette._ "equal in merit to peter simple, and perhaps even more entertaining, are the adventures of jacob faithful, another of the whimsical creations of captain marryatt's prolific brain."--_saturday courier._ "it is full of character and incident, and will, we doubt not, be a universal favourite."--_lit. gaz._ in three volumes, 12mo. peter simple; or, adventures of a midshipman. complete. by the author of the "king's own," "naval officer," &c. "the quiet humour which pervades the work is irresistibly amusing, and the fund of anecdote and description which it contains, entertaining. the humour sometimes approaches to downright burlesque, and the incident to extravagance, if not improbability; but, altogether, as a book of amusement, it is excellent."--_baltimore gazette._ "those who are the most competent to judge, say that captain marryatt is altogether superior to any other writer of naval sketches or descriptions, living or dead."--_n. y. commercial advertiser._ "this is the best work that captain marryatt has produced."--_atlas._ "'peter simple' is certainly the most amusing of captain marryatt's amusing novels; a species of picture quite unique; a class by themselves, full of humour, truth, and graphic sketches."--_literary gazette._ "this is an admirable work, and worthy of the noble service it is written to illustrate."--_spectator._ celebrated trials, and cases of criminal jurisprudence of all ages and countries. in one large volume, 8vo., containing 600 closely printed pages. contents. john thurtell and joseph hunt, for the murder of william ware, at hertford, january, 1824. henry fauntleroy, esq., for forgery, at the old bailey, october 30, 1824. anna schonleben (germany), for poisoning, 1808. john docke rouvelett, for forgery, 1806. john holloway and owen haggerty, for the murder of john cole steele, on hounslow-heath, february 22, 1807. the unknown murderer, or the police at fault (germany), 1817. thomas simmons, for murder, oct. 20, 1807. major alexander campbell, for the murder of captain alexander boyd, at armagh, in a duel, 1807. james stuart, for the murder of sir alexander boswell, in a duel, 1822. martha alden, for murder, 1807. francis s. riembauer, for assassination, 1805. eliza fenning, for an attempt to poison mr. olibar turner and family, april 11, 1815. william jones, for murder. abraham thornton, for the murder of mary ashford, 1817. castaing, the physician, for murder, at paris, november, 1817. john donellan, esq., for the murder of sir theodosius edward allesly boughton; before the hon. sir francis buller, 1781. sir walter raleigh, for high-treason, in the reign of james i., a.d. 1602. james o'coigley, arthur o'connor, john binns, john allen, and jeremiah leary, for high-treason; at maidstone, 1798. miss ann broadric, for the murder of mr. errington, 1795. william corder, for the murder of maria marten, 1827. william codlin, for scuttling a ship, 1802. joseph wall, for the murder of benjamin armstrong, at goree, 1802. vice-admiral byng, for neglect of duty; at a court-martial, held on board his majesty's ship the st. george, in portsmouth harbour, 1757. richard savage, the poet, james gregory, and william merchant, for the murder of james sinclair, 1727. admiral keppel, for neglect of duty, july, 1778, at a court-martial. sir hugh palliser, vice-admiral of the blue, for neglect of duty, 1779. sarah metyard and sarah m. metyard, for murder, 1768. john bishop, thomas williams, and james may, for the murder of charles ferriar, 1831. sawney cunningham, executed at leith, 1635, for murder. sarah malcolm, for the murder of ann price, 1733. joseph baretti, for the murder of evan morgan, 1769. mungo campbell, for murder, 1721. lucretia chapman, for the murder of william chapman, late of bucks county, pennsylvania, 1832. lino amalto espos y mina, for the murder of william chapman, at the same court, 1832. john hatfield, for forgery, 1803. trial by combat, between henry plantagenet, duke of hereford and lancaster, and afterwards king of england by the title of henry iv., and thomas mowbray, duke of norfolk, earl-marshal of england, 1897. captain john gow and others, for piracy, 1729. william burke and helen mcdougal for murder, 1828. charles macklin (the author), for the murder of thomas hallam, may 1735. mary young, _alias_ jenny diver, for privately stealing, 1740. george henderson and margaret nisbet, for forging a bill on the dutchess of gordon, 1726. john chide, of dalry, for the murder of the right hon. sir george lockhart, of carnwith, lord-president of the court of sessions, and member of his majesty's privy council, 1689. william henry, duke of cumberland, for adultery with lady grosvenor, 1770. robert and daniel perrean, for forgery, 1775. margaret caroline rudd, for forgery, 1775. henry white, jr., for a libel on the duke of cumberland, 1813. philip nicholson, for the murder of mr. and mrs. bonar, at maidstone, 1813. mr. william cobbett, for libel, in the court of king's bench, 1810. john bellingham, esq., for the murder of the right hon. spencer perceval, chancellor of the exchequer, in the lobby of the house of commons, may 11, 1811. mary stone, for child murder, preferred by her sister, at surry assizes, 1817. arthur thistlewood, james ings, and others, for high-treason, at the old bailey, 1820. thomas, earl of stafford, for high-treason, 1643. _trial of the rebels in_ 1745: lords kilmarnock, cromartie, balmerino, and lovat.--charles ratcliffe, esq.--townley and dawson.--fletcher and syddall.--dr. cameron. rob roy macgregor, and other macgregors, 1700 to 1746. alexia petrowitz czarowitz, presumptive heir to the crown of russia, condemned to death by his father, 1715. joseph hunton, a quaker, for forgery, 1828.--his execution. captain witham kidd, for murder and piracy, 1701. remarkable case of witchcraft, before matthew hale, 1662. the salem witches. _sufferers for pretended witchcraft in scotland._ alison pearson.--janet grant and janet clark, 1828.--john cunningham, 1590.--agnes sampson, 1591.--john fien, 1591.--euphan m'calzene, 1591.--patrick lawrie, 1606.--margaret wallace, 1620.--isobel young, 1629.--alexander hamilton, 1630.--john neil, 1630.--janet brown and others, 1640. the samuelston witches--isobel elliot, and nine other women, 1678. impostor of barragan, 1696. trial by combat, between sir john annesley, knight, and thomas katrington, esq., 1380. james george lisle, _alias_ major semple, for stealing, 1795. queen emma, trial by fire-ordeal. john horne tooke, for high-treason, 1791. joseph thompson hare, for mail-robbery in virginia, 1818. richard carlile, for a libel, 1819. _circumstantial evidence_. jonathan bradford.--james crow.--john jennings.--thomas harris.--william shaw. in two volumes, 12mo. travels to bokhara, and voyage up the indus. by lieut. burnes. "mr. burnes is the first european of modern times who has navigated the indus. many years have passed since the english library has been enriched with a book of travels, in value at all comparable with this. mr. burnes is evidently a man of strong and masculine talents, high spirit, and elegant taste, well qualified to tread in the steps of our malcolms and elphinstones."--_london quarterly review._ "though comparisons may be and often are odious, we do not think we shall excite one resentful feeling, even among the travellers whose productions we have reviewed during a course approaching twenty years, when we say that so interesting a publication of that class as the present, has not fallen under our notice."--_london literary gazette._ in two volumes, 12mo. the sketch-book of character; or, curious and authentic narratives and anecdotes respecting extraordinary individuals: exemplifying the imperfections of circumstantial evidence; illustrative of the tendency of credulity and fanaticism; and recording singular instances of voluntary human suffering and interesting occurrences. (_nearly ready._) contents. extraordinary individuals. arnaud du tilh, the demetriuses of russia, madam tiquet, francoeur, the lunatic, reneé corbeau, madame rovere, the diary of luc antonio viterbi, who starved himself to death, the italian sleep-walker, william lithgow, the traveller richard peeke, james crichton, mother damnable, valentine greatraks, james naylor, henry jenkins, john kelsey, lodowick muggleton, mrs. aphra behn, aspasia, madame du barré, phebe brown, the mysterious stranger, george bruce, mull'd sack, a notorious robber, sir jervas yelvis, archibald armstrong, the jester, the two brothers, anne george bellamy, susanna maria cibber, joseph clark, titus oates, _alias_ bob ferguson, thomas venner, colly molly puff, eugene aram, matthew hopkins, the witch-finder, jeffery hudson, blasil de manfre, henry welby, catharine, countess dowager of schwartzburgh, richard savage, lewis de boissi, reverend father arthur o'leary, john oliver, john overs, john bigg, mrs. corbett, charlotte maria anne victoire cordey, daniel dancer, esq. rev. george harvest, s. bisset, the animal teacher, roger crab, rigep dandulo, augustine barbara vanbeck, the chevalier d'eon, widow of ephesus, mary frith, anne day, countess of desmond, colonel thomas blood, jane lane, mary carleton, jack adams, samuel boyce, peter the wild boy, charles price, _alias_ the social monster, george alexander stevens, peter isaac thelluson, george villiers, hon. mrs. godfrey, lady godiva, john philip barretier, oliver cromwell's porter, robert hill, the learned tailor of buckingham, hendia, charlotte hutton, mrs. day, the abbe sieyes, countess of strathmore elizabeth perkins, margaret lamburne, ninon de l'enclos, madame des houlieres, mrs. levy, louisa, mrs. lloyd, lucretia, madame de maintenon, catherine de medicis, la maupin. circumstantial evidence. john calas, elizabeth canning, le brun, richard coleman, jonathan bradford, james crow, john orme, john jennings, girl at liege, thomas harris, john miles, a man tried and convicted for the murder of his own father, william shaw, sirven, monsieur d'anglade and his family, joan perry and her two sons, la pivardiere, duke dorgan, a story of irish life, william richardson. credulity and fanaticism. a female monster, (effects of ignorance and superstition,) yetser, the fanatic, the holy relics, jerome savonarola, sabbatei-sevi, anthony, simon morin, robert francis damiens, assassination of the king of portugal, francois michel, st. pol de leon, mr. stukeley, (eccentric self-delusion), peter rombert, the fanatic of carolina. voluntary human suffering. simeon stylites, panporee, indian widows, funeral rites, conscientious murder, conscientious hindoo, female infanticide, processions of penitents in spain and portugal, penance by proxy, the indian penance of five fires, matthew loval. interesting occurrences. the miners of bois-monzil, jaques du moulin, (the uncertainty of human testimony,) remarkable discovery of a murder, charles the twelfth, whimsical marriage, algerine conspiracy, extraordinary adventure, otway's orphan, prison escapes, charbonniers, porral and others, grivet, reign of terror, remarkable trial for murder, singular adventure, heidegger, jemmy taylor. in one volume, 12mo. magpie castle. by theodore hook. and other tales. in two volumes, 12mo. legends and stories of ireland. by samuel lover. "here is a genuine irish story-book, of the most amusing character. mr. lover shows us how to tell a tale in the real irish manner. we see the people; we hear them; they are dramatized as they exist in nature; and all their peculiarities are touched with a master's hand."--_lit. gaz._ in three volumes, 12mo. the port admiral. by the author of "cavendish." "a work full of interest and variety. the scenes are traced with a powerful hand."--_sunday times._ "these volumes will make a stir in what an old writer calls the 'wooden world.' they touch too severely upon blemishes in the discipline, manners, opinions, and principles of our maritime government, not to be eagerly examined and perhaps sharply discussed by naval men."--_athenæum._ in one volume, 8vo. captain ross's last voyage. narrative of a second voyage in search of a north-west passage, and of a residence in the arctic regions, during the years 1829, 1830, 1831, 1832, and 1833. by sir john ross, c. b., k. s. a., &c. including the reports of commander j. c. ross, and the discovery of the northern magnetic pole. _with a large map._ in two volumes, 12mo. the king's own; a tale of the sea. by the author of "the naval officer," "peter simple" etc. "an excellent novel."--_edinburg review._ "captain marryat may take his place at the head of the naval novelists of the day."--_united service journal._ "the adventures of the hero, through bold and stirring scenes, lose not a jot of their interest to the last, while the naval descriptions of sights and deeds on shipboard may be compared with any similar production of which we have any knowledge."--_atlas._ "a very remarkable book, full of vigour, and characterized by incidents of perfect originality, both as to conception and treatment. few persons will take up the book without going fairly through it to the catastrophe, which startles the reader by its unexpected nature."--_literary gazette._ "replete with genius. the work will go far permanently to fix the name of captain marryat among the most popular and successful writers of fiction of the age."--_felix farley's bristol journal._ "a work, perhaps, not to be equalled in the whole round of romance, for the tremendous power of its descriptions, for the awfulness of its subjects, and for the brilliancy and variety of the colours with which they are painted."--_spectator._ in one volume, 12mo. an account of colonel crockett's tour to the north and down east, in the year of our lord one thousand eight hundred and thirty-four. his object being to examine the grand manufacturing establishments of the country; and also, to find out the condition of its literature and morals, the extent of its commerce, and the practical operation of "_the experiment_." with a portrait of the author. in one volume, 12mo. colonel crockett's life of van buren. the life of martin van buren, heir-apparent to the "government," and the appointed successor of general andrew jackson. containing every authentic particular by which his extraordinary character has been formed. with a concise history of the events that have occasioned his unparalleled elevation; together with a review of his policy as a statesman. by david crockett. in two volumes 12mo. the naval sketch-book. by captain glascock. "in 'the naval sketch-book' there are dozens of 'delicious bits,' which, we are sure, will delight our readers."--_john bull._ "the book abounds with animated sketches of naval opinions and character, described to that style which only a thorough-bred seaman can handle."--_times._ "we do not think that there ever was a more _sailorly_ publication than this."--_literary gazette._ "unquestionably captain glascock is inferior to none as a humorous and talented naval writer. his descriptions are true to nature, and his dialogues full of life and entertainment; in short, his _sketches_ have all the characteristics of a true british seaman."--_naval and military gazette._ in two volumes, 12mo. the black watch. by t. picken. by the author of the "dominie's legacy." "one of the most powerful and pathetic fictions which have recently appeared."--_times._ in two volumes, 12mo. tales of a physician. by w. h. harrison. containing--the victim, the curate, the gossip, the fate of a genius, disappointments, the neglected wife, the jew, the stranger guest, the smuggler, cousin tomkins the tailor, the life of an author, remorse, the sexton's daughter, the old maid, the preacher, the soldier's bride, the mortgagee. "we cannot withhold from these tales the praise which is due to elegant composition, when intended to promote the cause of morality and religion. in point of elegance, simplicity, and interest, few are so attractive."--_record._ "graceful in language, displaying cultivated taste."--_literary gazette._ "we welcome it with pleasure--they are told in a pleasant style, and with great feeling."--_athenæum._ "evidently the production of an experienced essayist: there is not only considerable power of invention manifested in them, but the diction is always pure, and at times lofty. we should say, he will occupy a very high station among the writers of the day."--_british traveller._ "we cannot withhold from the author of the work before us the warm praise due to its pious design, and decidedly instructive character. the 'tales of a physician' are written with very considerable talent. the idea is a happy one."--_eclectic review._ "a vein of amiable and highly moral feeling runs through the whole volume."--_monthly review._ "the book is well written--an amusing addition to the works of the season."--_new monthly magazine._ "there is a high moral tone throughout."--_spirit and manners of the age._ (_nearly ready_.) the highland smugglers. by j. b. frazer. author of the "kuzzilbash." in one volume, 12mo. letters and essays, in prose and verse. by richard sharp. "messrs. carey & hart have reprinted the letters and essays of richard sharp, in a beautiful little volume. these excellent productions fully deserve the distinction of neatest dress. they are _sterling literature_."--_national gazette._ "what a pleasant volume! it is the delightful and instructive writing of a cultivated mind upon ordinary occasions and subjects; and the sound sense and elegant literature with which they are treated afford a great treat for judgment and taste to appropriate."--_literary gazette._ in two volumes, 12mo. the pacha of many tales. by the author of "peter simple," &c. adventures of japhet in search of his father. by the author of "jacob faithful," "king's own," &c. (_in press._) in three volumes, 12mo. tom cringle's log. complete. a new edition, revised and corrected. "the scenes are chiefly nautical, and we can safely say that no author of the present day, not even excepting our own cooper, has surpassed him in his element."--_u. s. gazette._ "the sketches are not only replete with entertainment, but useful, as affording an accurate and vivid description of scenery, and of life and manners in the west indies."--_boston traveller._ "we think none who have read this work will deny that the author is the best nautical writer who has yet appeared. he is not smollett, he is not cooper; but he is far superior to them both."--_boston transcript._ "the scenes are chiefly nautical, and are described in a style of beauty and interest never surpassed by any writer."--_baltimore gazette._ "the author has been justly compared with cooper, and many of his sketches are in fact equal to any from the pen of our celebrated countryman."--_saturday evening post._ "a pleasant but a marvellously strange and wild amalgamation of water and earth is 'tom cringle;' full of quips and cranks, and toils and pranks. a fellow of fun and talent is he, with a prodigious taste for yarns, long and short, old and new; never, or but seldom, carrying more sail than ballast, and being a most delightful companion, both by land and sea. we were fascinated with the talents of tom when we met him in our respected contemporary from the biting north. his log was to us like a wild breeze of ocean, fresh and health-giving, with now and then a dash of the tearful, that summoned the sigh from our heart of hearts; but now that the yarns are collected and fairly launched, we hail them as a source of much gratification at this dull season. _tom cringle and a christmas fire! may well join in the chorus of 'begones dull care!_'--the 'quenching of the torch' as one of the most pathetic descriptions we over read. the 'scenes at jamaica' are full of vigour. as a whole, we have no hesitation in pronouncing 'the log' the most entertaining book of the season. there has been a sort of waverley mystery thrown over the authorship of these charming papers; and though many have guessed the author, yet we take unto ourselves the credit of much sagacity in imagining that we only have solved the enigma:--there are passages in 'tom cringle' that we believe no living author except professor wilson himself could write; _snatches of pure, exalted, and poetic feeling, so truly wilsonian, that we penciled them as we read on, and said, there he is again, and again, and again; to the very last chapter_."--_new monthly magazine._ the cruise of the midge. by the author of "tom cringle's log." in two volumes, 12mo. the man-of-war's-man. by the author of "tom cringle's log." "no stories of adventures are more exciting than those of seamen. the warrior of tom cringle's log is the most popular writer of that class, and those sketches collected not long since into a volume by the same publishers, in this city, were universally read. a large edition was soon exhausted. the present is, we believe, an earlier production, and has many of the same merits."--_baltimore gazette._ in two volumes, 12mo. the port admiral; a tale of the sea. by the author of "cavendish." in two volumes, 12mo. lives of the english pirates, highway-men, and robbers. by charles whitehead. "these are truly entertaining volumes, fraught with anecdote, and abounding in extraordinary adventures."--_naval and military gazette._ in two volumes, 12mo. cavendish; or, the patrician at sea. _the following notice is from the pen of mr. bulwer._ "the peculiar characteristics of captain marryatt are shared by some of his nautical brethren; and the author of 'cavendish' has evinced much ability and very vigorous promise in the works that have issued from his pen." "we should find it very difficult to be very angry with the 'patrician,' even if he had fifty times his real number of faults, on account of the jovial, easy, reckless, off-hand style of character that seems to belong to him. our sea portraits multiply so fast, and advance so rapidly in excellence, that we become fastidious, and insist upon a likeness where formerly we were contented with a caricature. 'cavendish' partakes of both.... into these thousand or rather ten thousand scrapes, we cannot follow him, but the reader may, much to his advantage. the navarine narrative, in particular, will be read with an interest proportioned to the truth and spirit with which it is told."--_new monthly magazine._ new and cheap edition, in two volumes, 12mo., of the memoirs of vidocq, the celebrated agent of the french police. "but it is not our province or intention to enter into a discussion of the veracity of vidocq's memoirs: be they true or false; were they purely fiction from the first chapter to the last, they would, from fertility of invention, knowledge of human nature, and ease of style, rank only second to the novels of le sage. the first volume is perhaps more replete with interest, because the hero is the leading actor in every scene; but in the subsequent portions, when he gives the narrative of others, we cannot but admire the power and graphic talent of the author. sergeant bellerose is scarcely inferior to the sergeant kite of farquhar and the episodes of court and raoul, and that of adele d'escara, are surpassed in description, depth of feeling, and pathos, by no work of romance with which we are acquainted." _from the boston traveller._ "memoirs of vidocq.--he who reads this book, being previously unacquainted with the mystery of iniquity, will find himself introduced at once into a new world: but it is a world which must be known only to be avoided. never before was such a mass of depravity opened to the mind of inquiry in a single volume. it was well said by byron, "truth is strange, stranger than fiction." whoever passes through the details of this singular exposition, supposing it to contain correct delineations of fact, will be satisfied of the justness of this remark. "the details of the varied scenes through which he has passed in private and public life, surpass all the creations of fancy, and all the delineations of fact, from the wonderful relations of the arabian nights to the renowned exploits of mr. lemuel gulliver; and from the extraordinary sufferings and escapes of the celebrated baron trenck to the still more marvellous exploits of the famous mr. thomas thumb. "it would seem, on following this singular writer through his adventures, as if all the crimes of which human nature is capable, all the horrors of which the universe has heard, all the astonishing incidents which history can dovelop or imagination portray, all the cold-blooded malice of the assassin, and all the varied machinations of the most ingenious and systematic practitioners in the school of vice, in all its varied departments, had been crowded into the life of a single individual, or come beneath his cognizance. the lover of mystery, who delights to "sup upon horrors," the admirer of romance, who is pleased with the heightened pictures of the most fanciful imagination, and the inquirer into the policy of crime and its prevention, may here have their utmost curiosity satiated. "vidocq, during the early portion of his life, was personally initiated into all the mysteries of crime, and becoming afterward a pardoned man, and an active and successful agent of the french police in the city of paris, "girt with its silent crimes," as well as its tumultuous depravities, becomes a fit person to delineate its scenes of vice, depravity, and guilt. his work is a study for the novelist, the annalist, the philosopher, and the christian. but it is a work which should be read with a guarded mind; with it disposition to profit by its lessons, and to avoid scenes which have little enjoyment, and which invariably end in misery." in two volumes 12mo. the hamiltons. by the author of "mothers and daughters." "this is a fashionable novel, and of the highest grade."--_athenæum._ "mrs. gore is undeniably one of the wittiest writers of the present day. 'the hamiltons' is a most lively, clever, and entertaining work."--_lit. gaz._ "the design of the book is new, and the execution excellent."--_exam._ in two volumes, 12mo. tough yarns; a series of naval tales and sketches, to please all hands, from the swabs on the shoulder down to the swabs in the head. by the old sailor. "here, most placable reader, is a title for thee, pregnant with fun, and deeply prophetic of humour, drollery, and all those joyous emotions that so opportunely come to oil the springs of the overworn heart, and prevent the cankering and rust from wearing them away and utterly destroying their healthful elasticity."--_metropolitan._ "the old sailor paints sea scenes with vigour and gusto; now-and-then reminding us of 'tom cringle,' and with a strong sense of the comical that approaches smollet."--_spectator._ "here we have the 'old sailor' once more, and in all his glory too! the public will join with us in hailing the reappearance of the 'old' boy. he stands at the head of the naval humorists of the nineteenth century. we have rarely seen an affair so richly humorous: it is one of the most amusing and best written volumes of naval fiction we have ever seen."--_observer._ in three volumes, 12mo. the coquette. by the author of "miserrimus." "the 'coquette' is a most amusing library book. several of the characters are exceedingly well drawn: indeed, they are obviously sketches from life, and there is a sparkling vivacity throughout the whole work."--_new monthly magazine._ in two volumes, 12mo. the miseries of marriage; or, the fair of may fair. by the author of "pin money," &c. "mrs. gore certainly stands at the head of the female novelists of the day. but we subjoin the opinion of mr. bulwer."--_u. s. gazette._ "she is the consummator of that undefinable species of wit, which we should call (if we did not know the word might be deemed offensive, in which sense we do not mean it) the _slang_ of good society. "but few people ever painted, with so felicitous a hand, the scenery of worldly life, without any apparent satire. she brings before you the hollowness, the manoeuvres, and the intrigues of the world, with the brilliancy of sarcasm, but with the quiet of simple narrative. her men and women, in her graver tales, are of a noble and costly clay; their objects are great; their minds are large, their passions intense and pure. she walks upon the stage of the world of fashion, and her characters, have grown dwarfed as if by enchantment. the air of frivolity has blighted their stature; their colours are pale and languid; they have no generous ambition; they are little people! they are fine people! this it is that makes her novel of our social life so natural, and so clear a transcript of the original."--_the author of pelham._ in one volume, 12mo. some passages in the life of sir pumpkin frizzle, k. c. b. and other tales. "decidedly one of the most amusing productions of the year. in addition to the adventures of _sir pumpkin_, there are several capital stories, which cannot fail to be popular." in one volume, 8vo. memoirs of the beauties of the court of charles the second. by mrs. jameson. author of "diary of an ennuyee," "characteristics of women," &c. "new work.--messrs. carey & hart, philadelphia, have in press a popular book, 'the beauties of the court of king charles the second,' written by mrs. jameson, whose father had been employed by the princess charlotte to paint cabinet pictures of those too celebrated ladies. the princess died before they were completed, and the consequence was, they were never paid for. the circumstances of the family required some use should be made of the paintings to produce a remuneration; and mrs. jameson undertook the delicate task of the letter press, the portraits being engraved in the highest style of art. the london copy costs about twenty-five dollars: the american edition will be an octavo without the portraits. nell gwynn, the duchess of hamilton, &c. are not unknown characters in history. mrs. jameson has executed her department in a remarkably graceful manner."--_journal of belles lettres._ memoirs of great military commanders by g. r. p. james, author of "darnley," "henry masterton," &c. including henry v. of england; john, duke of bedford; gonzales de cordova; ferdinand, duke of alva; oliver cromwell; marshal turenne; the great condé; general monk; duke of albemarle; duke of marlborough; the earl of peterborough; marquess of granby; general wolfe, &c. &c. "that mr. james should have been eminently successful in portraying the lives of illustrious military commanders is not surprising; for it is well known that martial achievements have long been his favourite study."--_morning post._ "a more interesting series of memoirs could not be presented to the curiosity of readers, inasmuch as in the lives of such men romantic adventures of the most exciting kind co-exist with the strictest truth."--_courier._ in two volumes, 12mo. allen breck. by gleig, author of the "subaltern." "the most striking production of mr. gleig."--_u. s. journal._ "one of the most powerful and highly wrought tales we ever read."--_edinburg review._ in two volumes, 12mo. nights-at-mess. in two volumes, 12mo. life of a soldier by a field-officer. "a narrative of twenty-seven years' service in various parts of the world, possessing all the interest of the wildest fiction."--_sun._ in preparation, the gift; a christmas and new year's present, for 1836. edited by miss leslie, author of "pencil sketches," &c. among the contributors will be found washington irving, mrs. butler, j. k. paulding, g. w. simms, miss sedgwick, miss leslie, &c. &c. list of the plates. a portrait of miss kemble, engraved by _cheney_. smuggler's repose, " _tucker_. the orphans, " _welch_. soliciting a note, " _ellis_. john anderson, my jo! " _lawson_. prawn fishers, " _graham_. death of the stag, " _tucker_. mirkwood mere, " _graham_. a portrait, " _illman_. in two volumes, 12mo. traits and stories of the irish peasantry first series. "admirable--truly, intensely irish: never were the outrageous whimsicalities of that strange, wild, imaginative people so characteristically described; nor amidst all the fun, frolic, and folly, is there any dearth of poetry, pathos, and passion. the author's a jewel."--_glasgow journal._ "to those who have a relish for a few titbits of rale irish story-telling,--whether partaking of the tender or the facetious, or the grotesque,--let them purchase these characteristic sketches."--_sheffield iris._ "the sister country has never furnished such sterling genius, such irresistibly humorous, yet faithful sketches of character among the lower ranks of patlanders, as are to be met with in the pages of these delightful volumes."--_bristol journal._ "this is a capital book, full of fun and humour, and most characteristically irish."--_new monthly magazine._ "neither miss edgeworth, nor the author of the o'hara tales, could have written any thing more powerful than this."--_edinburgh literary gazette._ in two volumes, 12mo. traits and stories of the irish peasantry. third series. "this work has been most extravagantly praised by the english critics: and several extracts from it have been extensively published in our newspapers. it is altogether a better work than any of the kind which has yet appeared--replete with humour, both broad and delicate--and with occasional touches of pathos, which have not been excelled by any writer of the present day. an edinburgh critic says that 'neither miss edgeworth, nor the author of the o'hara tales, could have written any thing more powerful than this.'"--_baltimore american._ in two volumes, 12mo. pin money; by mrs. charles gore, authoress of "hungarian tales," "polish tales," etc. "her writings have that originality which wit gives to reality, and wit is the great characteristic of her pages."--_bulwer's new monthly magazine._ "light spirited and clever, the characters are drawn with truth and vigour. keen in observation, lively in detail, and with a peculiar and piquant style, mrs. charles gore gives to the novel that charm which makes the fascination of the best french memoir writers."--_london literary gazette._ in two volumes, 12mo. makanna; or, the land of the savage. "one of the most interesting and graphic romances it has been our lot to read for many a year."--_athenæum._ "there was yet an untrodden land for the writer of fiction, and the author of 'makanna' is its discoverer."--_atlas._ "the narrative includes some daring adventures which would make timid blood shudder at their magnitude.... this work abounds in interest and is written in a style of great vigour and elegance."--_weekly times._ "the work does not want to be invested with any fictitious interest; end the talent which is visible in its pages is its best recommendation to public favour."--_morning post._ "the attempt was a bold and hazardous one, but it has been fully successful. we have rarely read a production of deeper interest--of interest sustained from the first page to the last. it has been conceived in a fine spirit; the several characters are ably painted.... he is as much at home on the ocean, and there are many scenes on ship-board equal to the best of the great sea-lord, the author of 'the spy.'"--_new monthly magazine._ in one volume, 18mo. colman's broad grins. a new edition, with additions. "'this is a little volume of the comic,' which we recollect to have laughed over many a time, in our boyish days, and since. it is old standard fun--a comic classic."--_baltimore gazette._ in one volume, 12mo. the life of david crockett, of west tennessee. written by himself. in one volume, 12mo. a subaltern in america; comprising his narrative of the campaigns of the british army at baltimore, washington, etc. during the late war. in one volume, 8vo. select speeches of john sergeant, of pennsylvania. in one volume, 12mo. the gentleman in black. "it is very clever and very entertaining--replete with pleasantry and humour: quite as imaginative as any german diablerie, and far more amusing than most productions of its class. it is a very whimsical and well devised jeu d'esprit."--_literary gazette._ in two volumes, 12mo. five nights of st. albans. "some man of talent has taken up the old story of the wandering jew, to try what he could make of a new version of it. he has succeeded in composing as pretty a piece of _diablerie_ as ever made candles burn blue at midnight. the horrors of _der freischutz_ are mere child's play compared with the terrors of the old man or the demon amaimon; and yet all the thinking and talking portion of the book is as shrewd and sharp as the gladiatorial dialogues of shakspeare's comedies."--_spectator._ "a romance, called the '_five nights of st. albans_,' has just appeared, which combines an extraordinary power of description with an enchaining interest. it is just such a romance as we should imagine martin, the painter, would write; and, to say the truth, the description of supernatural effects in the book, fall very little short in their operation upon different senses of the magical illusions of the talented artist."--_john bull._ in three volumes, 12mo. francesca carrara. by l. e. l. author of "the improvisatrice," "romance and reality," &c. "but in prose she lives with us: now sanctifying; now satirizing; now glittering with the french in their most brilliant court, playing with diamonds and revelling in wit; then reposing on one of the finest creations that human _genius ever called into existence--the holy friendship of guido and francesca_. the whole range of modern fiction offers nothing like the portraiture of these two cousins; it is at once beautiful and sublime, and yet perfectly natural and true."--_new monthly magazine._ "a sparkling and brilliant performance. the observations on life and society have all the acuteness of le sage."--_literary gazette._ "a book of remarkable power and genius; unquestionably superior to any other production of the present time, with the single exception of the writings of the author of 'the last days of pompeii.'"--_examiner._ "a novel it is of beauty, grace, eloquence, noble thoughts, and tender feelings, such as none but a lady--and a lady of exquisite genius, too--could write."--_fraser's magazine._ (_nearly ready._) in one volume, 12mo. the painter's and colourman's complete guide; being a practical treatise on the preparation of colour, and their application to the different kinds of painting; in which is particularly described the whole art of house painting. by p. f. tingry, professor of chymistry, natural history, and mineralogy, in the academy of geneva. first american, from the third london edition, corrected and considerably improved by a practical chymist. in one volume, 12mo. picture of philadelphia; or a brief account of the various institutions and public objects in this metropolis, forming a guide for strangers, accompanied by a new plan of the city. in a neat pocket volume. in two volumes, 12mo. sicilian facts. in one volume, 8vo. the american flower garden directory, containing practical directions for the culture of plants in the hot-house, garden-house, flower-garden, and rooms or parlours, for every month in the year; with a description of the plants most desirable in each, the nature of the soil and situation best adapted to their growth, the proper season for transplanting, &c.; instructions for erecting a hot-house, green-house, and laying out a flower-garden. also, table of soils most congenial to the plants contained in the work. the whole adapted to either large or small gardens, with lists of annuals, bienniels, and ornamental shrubs, contents, a general index, and a frontispiece of camellia fimbriata. by hibbert and buist, exotic nurserymen and florists. a whisper to a newly-married pair. "hail, wedded love! by gracious heaven design'd, at once the source and glory of mankind." "we solicit the attention of our readers to this publication, as one, though small, of infinite value."--_baltimore minerva._ "'the whisper' is fully deserving the compliments bestowed upon it, and we join heartily in recommending it to our friends, whether married or single--for much useful instruction may be gathered from its pages."--_lady's book._ "the work contains some original suggestions that are just, and many excellent quotations; some of her hints to the ladies should have been whispered in a tone too low to be overheard by the men."--_daily chronicle._ in one volume, 18mo. principles of the art of modern horsemanship for ladies and gentlemen, in which all the late improvements are applied to practice. translated from the french, by daniel j. desmond. the art of horsemanship.--this is the title of a neat little work translated from the french of mr. lebeaud, by daniel j. desmond, esq. of this city, and just published by carey & hart. it gives full and explicit directions for breaking and managing a horse, and goes into detail on the proper mode of mounting, the posture in the saddle, the treatment of the animal under exercise, &c. an appendix is added, containing instructions for the _ladies_, in mounting and dismounting. the philadelphia public are under obligations to mr. desmond for this translation. we have long needed a manual of horsemanship, to correct the inelegant habits in which many of our riders indulge, and to produce uniformity in the art of equitation. we see daily in our streets, mounted men, who totter in their seats as if suffering under an ague-fit; others who whip, spur, and rant, as if charging an enemy in battle; and again others, of slovenly habits, with cramped knees, and toes projecting outwards, who occupy a position utterly devoid of every thing like ease, grace, or beauty. these things are discreditable to our community, and earnestly do we hope, that this book will have many attentive readers.--_philadelphia gazette._ in one volume, 12mo two hundred receipts in domestic french cookery. by miss leslie, author of the "seventy-five receipts." price 50 cents. "'the 200 receipts by miss leslie,' published by carey and hart of philadelphia, has been much praised, and we think deservedly. the selection of subjects made by the accomplished writer is of a most tempting and tasteful description, and we must do her the justice to say, that she has treated them in such an eloquent and forcible manner, as to raise in the minds of all dispassionate readers the most tender and pleasurable associations. we commend her to the careful perusal and respect of all thrifty housewives."--_new york mirror._ select medico-chirurgical transactions. a collection of the most valuable memoirs read to the medico-chirurgical societies of london and edinburgh; the association of fellows and licentiates of the king and queen's college of physicians in ireland; the royal academy of medicine of paris; the royal societies of london and edinburgh; the royal academy of turin; the medical and anatomical societies of paris, &c. &c. &c. edited by isaac hays, m. d. in one volume, 8vo. a practical compendium of midwifery: being the course of lectures on midwifery, and on the diseases of women and infants, delivered at st. bartholomew's hospital. by the late robert gooch, m. d. "as it abounds, however, in valuable and original suggestions, it will be found a useful book of reference."--_drake's western journal._ in one volume, 8vo. an account of some of the most important diseases peculiar to women; by robert gooch, m. d. "in this volume dr. gooch has made a valuable contribution to practical medicine. it is the result of the observation and experience of a strong, sagacious, and disciplined mind."--_transylvania journal of medicine._ "this work, which is now for the first time presented to the profession in the united states, comes to them with high claims to their notice."--_drake's western journal._ in one volume, 8vo. tate on hysteria. a treatise on "hysteria." by george tate, m. d. "as public journalists, we take this occasion to return him our hearty thanks for the pains he has taken to shed a new light on an obscure and much-neglected topic."--_north amer. med. and surg. journ. no. xix._ _extract of a letter from_ edward h. courtenay, _professor of mathematics_ in _the university of pennsylvania_. "the design of the author--that of furnishing a valuable collection of rules and theorems for the use of such as are unable, from the want of time and previous preparation, to investigate mathematical principles--appears to have been very successfully attained in the present volume. the information which it affords in various branches of the pure and mixed mathematics embraces a great variety of subjects, is arranged conveniently, and is in general conveyed in accurate and concise terms. to the engineer, the architect, the mechanic--indeed to all for whom results are chiefly necessary--the work will doubtless form a very valuable acquisition." in one volume, 12mo. _bolmar's levizac._ a theoretical and practical grammar of the french language; in which the present usage is displayed agreeably to the decisions of the french academy. by m. de levizac. with numerous corrections and improvements, and with the addition of a complete treatise on the _genders of french nouns_; as also with the addition of all the french verbs, both regular and irregular, conjugated affirmatively, negatively, and interrogatively. by a. bolmar, author of "key to telemaque," "phrases," &c. &c. in one volume, 8vo. _teale on neuralgic diseases._ a treatise on neuralgic diseases, dependent upon irritation of the spinal marrow and ganglia of the sympathetic nerve. by thomas pridgin teale, _member of the royal college of surgeons in london, of the royal medical society of edinburg, senior surgeon to the leeds public dispensary._ "it is a source of genuine gratification to meet with a work of this character, when it is so often our lot to be obliged to labour hard to winnow a few grains of information from the great mass of dullness, ignorance, and mistatement with which we are beset, and cannot too highly recommend it to the attention of the profession."--_american journal of the medical sciences, no. x._ in one volume, 12mo. formulary for the preparation and employment of several new remedies. translated from the french of m. magendie. with an appendix containing the experience of the british practitioners, with many of the new remedies. by joseph houlton, m.d. in one volume, 8vo. a treatise on lesser surgery; or the minor surgical operations. by bourgery, d. m. p. author of "a complete treatise on human anatomy, comprising operative medicine." translated from the french, with notes and an appendix; by william c. roberts and jas. b. kissam. copy of a letter from william gibson, m. d. professor of surgery in the university of pennsylvania. _philadelphia, nov. 5th_, 1833. it gives me pleasure to say that the elementary work on surgery, by m. bourgery, and now under translation by drs. roberts and kissam of new york, appears to me _well calculated for the use of students_. so far as i can judge from examination of a small portion of the english text, justice has been done by the translators to the author of the work. w. gibson, m. d. _professor of surgery in the university of pennsylvania_. copy of a letter from george m'clellen, m. d. professor of surgery in the jefferson medical college. _philadelphia, nov 6th, 1833._ dear sirs, i have examined bourgery's manual, or work on lesser surgery, and am of opinion that it is an _excellent compend_, which contains a great deal of matter that will be useful to students. the translation which you are about to make, will deserve a large edition, and i have no doubt will meet with a ready sale. yours truly, geo. m'clellan. drs. roberts and kissam. * * * * * transcriber's notes 1. passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_. 2. obvious errors in punctuation have been silently corrected. 3. the original text includes greek characters. for this text version these letters have been replaced with transliterations. 4. certain words use oe ligature in the original. 5. other than the corrections listed above, printer's inconsistencies in spelling, punctuation, hyphenation, and ligature usage have been retained. 