Round Church.--Union Society.--The "Great Bridge,"
Hithe.--=Magdalene College=, Buckingham College, Pepys, Charles
Kingsley, the "College Window," Master's Garden.--Castle Hill,
Camboritum, Cromwell's Rampart, Repulse of Charles I, the
"Borough," View from Castle.--St. Peter's Church.--"School of
Pythagoras."--Westminster College.--Ridley Hall.--=Newnham
College.=--=Selwyn College.=--Convent of St. Radegund, Bishop
Alcock.--Midsummer Common.--Boat Houses, Bumping Races.--=Jesus
College=, "Chimney," Cloisters, Chapter House, Chapel, Cranmer,
Coleridge.
Starting once more from the Great Gate of Trinity and turning
northwards past St. John's we soon reach the "Via Devana," the old
Roman road which, as has been said, is the backbone of Cambridge,
traversing the town, under various names, from end to end. At this
point of its course it is called Bridge-street. Opposite to us, as we
enter it, rises one of the most distinctive buildings of Cambridge,
the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, popularly known as "the Round
Church." Its strange shape is an echo of the Crusading period, during
the whole of which such reproductions of the famous church of the Holy
Sepulchre at Jerusalem, the deliverance of which from the Turks was
the Crusaders' dream, were erected in various parts of England.
Earliest in date comes the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at
Northampton, built at the very beginning of the twelfth century, in
the opening fervour of the first Crusade, which has also given us the
beautiful old chapel of Ludlow Castle (now in ruins) and this church
in Cambridge. The gallant but fruitless effort of Richard Coeur de
Lion to retrieve the disastrous loss of Jerusalem is commemorated by
the Temple Church in London, completed at the very close of that
century; while the yet more fruitless endeavours of Edward the First,
a century later again, in the last expiring flash of Crusading zeal,
inspired the latest of our English Round Churches, that of Maplestead
in Essex. In all these churches the reproduction of their original is
of a very modified character.
So it is with our Cambridge example. It consists, indeed, (or, rather
originally consisted) of a circular nave surrounded by an ambulatory,
like its Jerusalem prototype, and _may_, like it, have had a domed
roof, though this is scarcely probable. But there the likeness must
always have ended; and the structure has, in later days, been altered
and re-altered time after time. At first there was probably a small
semicircular eastern apse, which within a century gave place to an
Early English chancel. This, in turn, was superseded by the present
chancel with its aisles, built in the fifteenth century, when an
octagonal bell-tower was also erected over the nave. Finally, in 1841,
the newly-formed "Camden Society" for the restoration of ancient
churches was permitted to work its will upon this one, and proceeded
to reconstruct it in accordance with what they imagined ought to have
been the design of its first builders.[88] And this imaginary ideal,
with its pointed roof and tiny Norman windows, is all that we now see.
Nevertheless, the sight, more especially inside, is impressive in no
small degree.
[Footnote 88: This design included the undoubted feature of a stone
altar, the setting up of which gave occasion, after much litigation,
for the promulgation of the well-known Judgment, which declares that
in the Church of England the Law permits only a movable wooden table.]
[Illustration: _The Church of the Holy Sepulchre._]
Behind the Round Church rise the sumptuous rooms of the "Union[89]
Society," a University club primarily instituted as an association for
the cultivation of oratory amongst undergraduates, which has now added
to its central debating hall a library, dining-room, smoking-room, and
the other adjuncts of a first-class club. Here, on each Tuesday
evening during Term, debates are held, usually on current political or
social situations, theological polemics being strictly barred. When
the Society was first instituted, in the early decades of the
nineteenth century, current politics were also prohibited (by the
University authorities), and could only be discussed under a decent
veil of reference to antiquity. But the comparative merits of the
causes championed by Caesar and Pompey, or by the Cavaliers and
Roundheads, were so easily made to apply to the burning questions of
the day, that the prohibition speedily become obsolete. Many a
well-known Parliamentary orator has won his first fame on the benches
of the Union, Lord Macaulay being a notable example. His perfervid
outpourings here swept away all opposition, and his friend and
contemporary, Mackworth Praed, records how the issue of any debate is
irrevocably decided--
"When the Favourite comes,
With his trumpets and drums,
And his arms, and his metaphors, crossed."
[Footnote 89: So called because in union with the twin Society at
Oxford; members of each having, _ipso facto_, all the privileges of
membership in the other.]
Leaving the Round Church behind us, and proceeding westwards, we pass
the Church of St. Clement, with its inscription DEUM COLE ("Worship
God"), which has nothing to detain us, and shortly arrive at "the
Great Bridge,"[90] that famous passage of the river to which the town
owes its name and its very existence. It can never have been an
imposing structure, in spite of its high-sounding title, and is now
represented by an exceedingly commonplace iron span. But, as the only
passage of the Cam approachable by an army, in fore-drainage days, for
many a long mile, it was of old a strategic point of first-class
importance, and more than once played a notable part in English
history. Its possession by the anti-monarchical forces shattered the
last efforts both of King John and of Charles the First, and brought
about, as we shall see, the speedy ruin and death of the former.
[Footnote 90: So called to distinguish it from the smaller town
bridges by Newnham Mill and Garret Hostel.]
To the North of the Bridge, and on the Eastern bank of the River, is
the last of the many "Hithes" (or Quays), of which we read so much in
connection with old Cambridge, remaining in actual use for traffic.
Here we may to this day see exemplified the ancient local proverb,
"Here water kindleth fire;" for barges loaded with fire-wood and turf
from the fens still discharge their cargoes at this spot.
The old name of the Great Bridge has, for at least a century,[91] been
commonly superseded by the appellation of "Magdalene Bridge," which
provokes singularly humiliating comparisons with the beautiful
structure bearing that name at Oxford. In both cases it is derived
from the adjoining College of St. Mary Magdalene (spelt, by a mere
freak, at Oxford without the final e). Our College, however, is of a
sadly lower grade than that at Oxford, with its ideal tower, and its
beautiful chapel, and its grey cloisters, and its green "Walks" beside
the Cherwell. Here we have but little beauty, and no very great
historical interest. The College was first founded, in the middle of
the fifteenth century, for the benefit of Benedictine students. It
belonged to the great Abbey of Crowland, in the Huntingdonshire
Fenland (though Ely, and other neighbouring Benedictine Houses, took
part in the building), and was called Buckingham College, from its
first special benefactor, Henry Stafford, the second Duke of
Buckingham. At the suppression of the Abbeys, this College, like all
other monastic property, was confiscated by King Henry the Eighth, who
granted it to his favourite, Thomas Audley, Lord Chancellor. By him it
was re-founded under its present name, and the nomination of the
Master continues, even to this day, to be vested in his descendants.
The existing representative of his family is Lord Braybrooke;[92] the
name of whose seat, at Audley End, near Saffron Walden in Essex,
records the fact that the whole property of the Benedictine Abbey of
Walden was also granted to Lord Chancellor Audley. This Abbey had
shared in the building of Buckingham College.
[Footnote 91: We find "Magdalene Bridge" in Wordsworth's "Prelude."]
[Footnote 92: Over the entrance gateway may be seen the arms of Lord
Braybrooke's family, the Nevilles. These are also the arms of the
College.]
The beginnings of the re-founded College were on a very small scale,
with only a single College servant (who acted as cook). Even forty
years later this number, as Dr. Caius tells us, had only increased to
three. To this day, indeed, Magdalene remains a small and select
College. It consists of a single Court, representing Buckingham
College, and the further side only of a second Court beyond. This
isolated side, an admirable arcade, built at the close of the
seventeenth century, contains the special treasure of the College, the
collection of books bequeathed to it by the famous diarist, Samuel
Pepys. This remains, as he himself arranged it, in twelve oaken
"presses" with glass doors; the books on each shelf being brought to a
common top level by appropriately graduated blocks of wood (shaped in
imitation of their backs) inserted under each. The Library is on view
on Tuesdays and Thursdays during Full Term, from 11.30 to 1 o'clock.
Over the door is the Pepys motto: _Mens cujusque is est quisque._
("Each man's mind is his very Self.")
Pepys had been a student here, and his portrait, by Lely, hangs in the
Hall. So does that of another distinguished Magdalene man, Charles
Kingsley, who was in residence 1839 to 1842. College tradition still
records how he used surreptitiously to climb out of the College in the
very early summer mornings, to be off on one of those piscatorial
excursions which he so dearly loved. Another well-known writer
connected with Magdalene is Mr. A. C. Benson, whose "College Window"
was in the ground floor of the Pepysian Library range, on the North
side, looking into the gardens of the Master's Lodge. In these gardens
is a high terraced walk, beneath an old wall. Both terrace and wall
are supposed to be connected with the ancient defences of Cambridge,
but this is not proven.
[Illustration: _St. Peter's Church._]
We have, however, now come to the region where those defences did
actually exist. For beyond this wall to the West rises the steep
slope, partly natural and partly artificial, of the "Castle Hill,"
towering into the great mound on which stood the Norman Keep. This was
built by William the Conqueror; but long before his day the site,
defensible by nature, and commanding the all-important passage of the
river, had been utilised for military purposes. Here, probably, was a
British post, the _Cam-Rhydd_ or "Ford of the Cam," which became the
Roman Camboritum.[93] Here Oliver Cromwell, as commander over the
forces of the "Associated Counties,"[94] set up fortifications which
baffled the gallant effort to retrieve his fallen fortunes made by
Charles the First after the fatal battle of Naseby. Having there left
his matchless infantry, "lying with their pikes charged every way as
when they lived," the unfortunate monarch, with the remains of his
cavalry, broke through the network of the enemies' squadrons in full
pursuit "like hounds after a fresh stag," and made a dash for the
Eastern Counties, "where he had a party forming." Huntingdon he took
by surprise, and "twice affronted the lines of Cambridge." But these
were too strong to be rushed by horse-soldiers, and, as there was no
other passage over the Cam, he had to retire, finally evading his
pursuers, and making his way safely to Oxford, with all the loot
acquired in this raid, "six waggons loaded with money, two thousand
horses, and three thousand head of cattle." And the remembrance of
Anglo-Saxon lines of defence round the site is perpetuated in the name
"Borough," which still clings to it.
[Footnote 93: In spite of the enticing similarity of sound, it is
fairly established that the word Camboritum is not the parent of the
word Cambridge. In mediaeval times we only read of "Granta-bridge."]
[Footnote 94: These were Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, Cambs, Hunts, Beds
and Herts, which combined to raise a common force (on the
Parliamentary side).]
Many antiquarians, indeed, hold that the Cambridge of early days
(anyhow down to the ninth century) was wholly confined to this small
area, some quarter of a mile square, and that the extension of the
town across the river was due to the expulsion of the inhabitants by
Danish and Norman intruders. Be that as it may, we are here
undoubtedly in the earliest Cambridge. The Castle has gradually passed
away, till no ruins, even, are now left. Its modern representative,
the County Court-house, where the Assizes are held, and the County
Gaol, stand at the western foot of the great mound, whereon the Norman
Keep no longer rises. From the summit is to be obtained a delightful
view of Cambridge, with the "green-muffled" ring of the Backs, and the
grey inner ring of the river-side Colleges, dominated by King's
College Chapel, girding in the western flank of the Town, and starting
almost from our feet; the long line of the East Anglian heights
bounding our southern and eastern prospect; and to the north the
"boundless plain," with the towers of Ely on the far horizon.
Close below us, and really at our very feet, rise the two churches of
this earliest Cambridge, that of St. Giles, now merely a handsome
modern edifice of imposing size, and that of St. Peter, also modern in
its present form, but embodying some ancient features. It is the
smallest church in Cambridge, only thirty-five feet in length by
fifteen in width, being the reconstructed fragment of a larger
structure built in the twelfth century, and pulled down in the
eighteenth, when the Parish was united to that of St. Giles. It
contains a fine late Norman font, with grotesque figures at each
corner--two-tailed Mer-men, each grasping his tails in either hand. At
one time the Borough had yet a third church, "All Hallows by the
Castle" (so called to distinguish it from "All Hallows in the Jewry"),
but this has wholly disappeared, Parish and all.
[Illustration: _Remains of St. Radegund's Priory._]
Beyond the spire of St. Peter's, as seen from the top of Castle Hill,
may be distinguished a small mediaeval building, known, for some
forgotten reason, by the high-sounding title of "the School of
Pythagoras." This lies just off the street to the eastward, at the
point where this ceases to be a street, and merges into the open road
that runs along the Backs. It is worth seeking out, for it is a
picturesque little edifice, and an interesting example of a
twelfth-century house built of stone. Wood, or, at the best, brick,
were the materials then commonly used. In spite of the name, there is
no reason to suppose that it was ever used for scholastic purposes, or
anything more than a mere private dwelling-house. But Walter de
Merton, the founder of Merton College, Oxford, actually acquired land
hereabouts, apparently with some idea of starting a sister
establishment at Cambridge. This land still belongs to Merton.
The great red brick and white stone edifice opposite the entrance to
the School of Pythagoras is "Westminster College," wherein candidates
for the Presbyterian ministry go through their theological course,
after completing their secular studies at the University. A like
institution for Anglicans, built in like style (which, indeed, is all
but universal in modern academic work), is Ridley Hall, at the other
end of the Backs. Neither of these is recognised by the University as
anything more than a private lodging-house, nor is the similar (but
much smaller) Roman Catholic seminary of Edmundhouse, on the slope
above Westminster College.
The same non-recognition extends to the great Ladies' College of
Newnham, which flings out its widespread "halls" over a lavish space
adjoining Ridley. The grand bronze entrance gates to these "vestal
precincts," inscribed with the name of the first Principal of the
College, Miss Anne Jemima Clough (sister to the poet Arthur Clough)
are hard by the more modest entrance to Ridley, and admit the visitor
to a scene which reminds us of those in Tennyson's "Princess." And
there are almost as many maidens here as he has assigned to his
imaginary College, for Newnham is surpassed in the number of its
students by Trinity only. Each has her own room, in which the bed
becomes by day a sofa. Each is assigned to one of the "Halls," which
in many respects are treated as separate entities, but all share the
common collegiate life. There is, however, no chapel, for Newnham is
most strictly undenominational. Students are, of course, free to
attend any place of worship they may prefer, the preference being
largely given to King's College Chapel. Hence a French traveller, who
came over to study Women's Education in England, is said to have
answered when asked on his return what religion was professed at
Newnham: "Mostly, I think, the King's religion."
[Illustration: _Jesus College Gateway._]
The other Ladies' College, at Girton, has got a chapel, where the
Church of England services are performed. This is the oldest of all
the ladies' colleges connected with Oxford or Cambridge, and hence
comes its position no less than two miles to the west of Castle Hill;
for when the idea was first started, the close proximity of young men
was deprecated almost in the trenchant spirit of Princess Ida. The
very first start, indeed, was made (in 1869) no less than thirty miles
away, at Hitchin, and only when this was found intolerable did the
pioneers move (in 1872) to Girton.[95] There the beautiful grounds and
splendid range of buildings give an impression of space rivalling
Newnham; but the College is not nearly so large, and is somewhat more
select. Here each student has a sitting-room as well as a bedroom,
after the fashion of the men's Colleges.
[Footnote 95: Newnham is just younger, having been opened 1875. It
then consisted of one Hall only.]
Immediately to the north of Newnham is Selwyn College, a
denominational institution belonging to the Church of England,
corresponding to Keble College at Oxford, and, like it, recognised by
the University, not indeed as a College, but as a "Public Hostel,"
whose undergraduates are not mere "non-collegiate students." Such
"unattached" students are under a "Censor" and a special syndicate,
and have a centre in the "Fitzwilliam Hall" (close to the museum of
that name), where they have to report themselves daily.
[Illustration: _The Back Court, Jesus College._]
Looking eastwards from the Castle Hill, we see a wide, open green
stretching from the further bank of the river, and beyond it a low
church tower rising amid trees. This is the tower of Jesus College
Chapel, once the Priory Church of St. Radegund. This lady was a
Frankish queen of the sixth century, and a friend of the poet
Venantius, the author of the well-known hymns _Vexilla Regis_ and
_Pange Lingua_. Under her dedication a Benedictine nunnery was founded
here at the beginning of the eleventh century. It was never a large or
wealthy institution, but continued to flourish for four hundred years
and more. In 1455 its account books, still preserved among the
archives of Jesus College, show an income of L70 per annum, equivalent
in purchasing power to some L1,200 at the present value of money.
Every Benedictine nun ranked socially as a gentlewoman, so that this
income needed careful administration to make it suffice for the nine
or ten sisters in residence. The Convent, however, was at this date
quite solvent, but in less than twenty years a single incapable
Prioress had run it deep in debt. The butcher's bill alone then
amounted to L21 (equivalent to over L350), and, having no cash to pay
withal, the nuns were taking two of his daughters free amongst the
boarders whom they educated. They were also alienating their capital,
so that the income was rapidly dwindling. In 1481 it had decreased by
more than 50 per cent., and was only L30. The next Prioress was a
strong and capable ruler, imposed upon the convent by the Bishop of
the Diocese, who was its Visitor. But things had gone too far, and, in
spite of her efforts, the place dwindled away. By 1496 there were only
two nuns left, and, under Royal license, the convent was turned into
"Jesus College" by the same Visitor. His name was Alcock, so his coat
of arms bore three cocks' heads, with yet another cock for crest. This
device confronts us at every turn in our passage through the College.
[Illustration: _Jesus College Chapel, East End._]
To reach it from Castle Hill, the most pleasant way is by descending
the street, and turning to the left past St. Giles' Church. This road
will soon bring us to the river, at a lock, where we cross by an iron
foot-bridge. We are now on the open Green we saw from above, which is
known as "Midsummer Common," from the great fair held there at that
season. As we make our way over it, we see to our left along the river
bank the long white boathouses[96] of the various colleges; for it is
not till below this lock that the river becomes navigable for an
eight-oar, and all the University rowing is done between it and that
next below, at Baitsbite, three miles and more down the stream to the
northward. Baitsbite[97] is the starting-point of the annual college
races, held at the conclusion of the May Term.[98] As is well known,
these are decided by "bumping," the boats all starting simultaneously
one behind another, with a clear interval of two lengths between
each. Any boat making a bump takes the place of its defeated rival in
the next race, and has the privilege of rowing back to its boat-house
with its flag flying.[99] This is also done by the boat Head of the
River, which, of course, cannot bump, though it may be bumped. Should
a boat make its bump on each of the four evenings that the races last,
the crew are said to "get their oars," each man's oar becoming his
personal property and being usually hung in his rooms as a trophy,
appropriately painted with the College colours. These colours are also
worn for racing; the most easily recognised being the bright scarlet
of Lady Margaret (St. John's), the black and white of Trinity Hall,
the green of Queens', the black and yellow of Clare, and the red and
black of Jesus. The flags always bear the College arms, except that
"First Trinity" fly the three crowned lions of King Edward the Third.
[Footnote 96: These are large wooden edifices containing sheds for the
boats below and dressing-rooms for the crews above.]
[Footnote 97: See Chapter XIII.]
[Footnote 98: There are also races in the Lent Term for the less
exalted boats. But only the first division in the May races has any
general interest. Each division contains sixteen boats, and the last
boat of each division is also the first of the division below, being
thus known as a "sandwich boat."]
[Footnote 99: The races end at Chesterton, about a mile below the
boathouses.]
Leaving the distant prospect of the boathouses behind us, we resume
our way to Jesus College, the grounds of which are separated from
Midsummer Common by a broad ditch. Skirting this, we come to "Jesus
Lane," and, turning to the right, reach the main entrance to the
College, opposite the red brick facade of "Westcott House" (like
Ridley Hall, an Anglican Clergy Training School), and the tall spire
of the new Church of All Saints.[100] Iron gates admit us into a long
passage, between red brick walls, known as "the Chimney," which
conducts us to the College gate. Jesus is a large college, with
several courts, but all that is much worth seeing is the chapel with
its cloisters, to reach which we must seek a low-browed doorway to the
east of the entrance gate. Both are relics of the nunnery. The latter,
indeed, were rebuilt in the eighteenth century; but the nineteenth has
rediscovered, in their eastern range, the beautiful Early English
entrance into the Nuns' Chapter House. At the north-east corner of the
cloisters we find the door into the chapel.
[Footnote 100: This church, as has been already said, formerly stood
at the other end of its Parish, in the old Jewry, hard by Trinity and
St. John's.]
This bears little resemblance to the conventional College Chapel,
being a cruciform church of the ordinary Norman shape, with a central
tower. Very little of the work, however, is Norman, for the nuns did
not get far on with their design till the twelfth century had come in
and the Early English period had commenced. A beautiful gem of this
style the chapel is, and, for once in a way, the drastic "restoration"
to which it was subjected in early Victorian days is matter of real
thankfulness.[101] The building had been sadly mauled about in the
course of ages; the high-pitched roof lowered, the eastern lancets
destroyed. All is now brought back, in excellent taste, to what it was
at first. The old chancel has become the chapel proper, the transepts
and the short nave serving as the ante-chapel.
[Footnote 101: This restoration had the advantage of being carried out
under the auspices of a man of real architectural taste (though better
known by his geological distinction), the Rev. Osmund Fisher, then
Dean of the College. The discovery of the Chapter House entrance in
the cloisters was also due to him.]
[Illustration: _Oriel of Hall, Jesus College._]
In this the windows are filled with fine Morris glass, the rich hues
of which are, unfortunately, much faded from their pristine
brilliance. That at the end of the south transept, which first meets
the eye, is occupied, above, by a magnificent group of the Celestial
Hierarchy, in all its nine Orders--Angels, Archangels, Virtues,
Principalities, Dominions, Powers, Thrones, Cherubim, Seraphim, with
the addition, in the tenth place, of Man, as the image of God; and,
below, by nine Saints, including St. Radegund, with the addition of
Bishop Alcock. The four other windows of the transept show the four
Evangelists, each attending a pair of Sibyls,[102] and, in the tower
lights, Gospel scenes illustrating the Incarnation, Passion,
Resurrection, and Ascension of Christ respectively. The nave windows,
on the south, have Patriarchs and Prophets, with scenes beneath from
the life or writings of each; and, on the north, emblematic figures
representing the Cardinal and Theological Virtues, each trampling
under her feet the contrary Vice.
[Footnote 102: Some words put by Virgil into the mouth of the Sibyl
(or prophetess) of Cumae were supposed by the early Christians of Rome
(to whom the idea of Sibylline books being prophetic was familiar from
Roman History) to foretell the Incarnation. Hence she, and her sister
Sibyls of other fictions as well, came to be considered inspired, and
before long a whole literature of imaginary Sibylline predictions was
in circulation.]
The most notable of the alumni of Jesus College was also one of the
earliest--Archbishop Cranmer. It is from his having been here that he
is so often and so ridiculously said to have been brought up in a
_Jesuit_ seminary![103] Another notability was the poet Coleridge, who
was here from 1790 to 1792. He was not an academic success, for, like
his contemporaries, Wordsworth at St. John's, and Southey at Christ
Church, he was carried away by the revolutionary spirit then rampant,
and, being more audacious than they, got into more scrapes. One of his
freaks was to trace out in gunpowder on the college lawns the words
LIBERTY AND EQUALITY, which not only produced a sensation when the
train was fired, but left the obnoxious sentiment permanently branded
on the sacred grass. Finally he ran away. But he was taken back, and
did not lose his love for his old college; for, long afterwards, we
find him writing of "the friendly Cloisters and happy Grove of quiet,
ever-honoured Jesus College, Cambridge." The Grove is the name given
to the grassy field, begirt with trees, which is bordered by the ditch
separating the College grounds from Midsummer Common.
[Footnote 103: The Jesuits, of course, did not come into being for
years after Cranmer's academic day.]
The western portion of that common is often called "Jesus Green." It
witnessed the execution of the only Marian martyr burnt at Cambridge.
His pile was largely formed of Protestant books of devotion, one of
which, "a Communion Book," he picked up and read diligently till the
flames overpowered him, "praising God, who had sent him this
consolation in his death."