exercised a powerful effect on the theology and discipline of the
University. Care was to be taken that the selected preachers throughout
the city should conform to the doctrine of the Church, and that
students in Divinity should be “excited to bestow their time on the
Fathers and Councils, schoolmen, histories and controversies, … making
them the grounds of their studies in divinity.” In the same year Laud
was made Dean of Gloucester. In 1621 he became Bishop of S. David’s,
and resigned the headship of the College. During the following years
he does not seem to have been much in Oxford, and it was not till
1630, when he was made Chancellor, that he exercised effective control
over the University. While he was busied in the affairs of the Church
at large, and was rising step by step to the highest ecclesiastical
preferment, his College, under the government of Dr. William Juxon,
grew in prosperity. Sir William Paddy, always a benefactor, gave a
“pneumatick organ of great cost,” and by his will endowed an organist
with singing men, and left books and money to the Society of which he
was, says a College chronicler, a member as munificent as learned. The
organ, though its erection was made by Prynne one of the accusations
against Laud, escaped destruction during the Rebellion, and was in
use till 1768. Bishop Buckeridge left more money to the College, and
altar furniture for the chapel. Within the years 1616-1636 large sums
of money came in, and gifts of land and advowsons of livings were made
by persons more or less connected with the College; the buildings
were added to, and by the time when Laud, as Bishop of London and
Chancellor of the University, had set himself to “build at S. John’s in
Oxford, where I was bred up, for the good and safety of that College,”
the College, still much less than a century old, was freed from the
pecuniary troubles which so much crippled it in its earlier years.
The new quadrangle, which was begun in July 1631, when the King gave
two hundred tons of wood from the royal forests of Stow and Shotover
to aid in the building, was a magnificent expression of the donor’s
generosity and love for the College. It was completed in 1636, and
Laud, now Archbishop of Canterbury, having assigned by special
direction the new rooms to the library, to the President, and for the
use of commoners, made elaborate preparations to receive the King and
Queen when they “invited themselves” to him. They brought with them the
King’s nephew, the Elector Palatine and Prince Rupert, who were entered
on the books of S. John’s. Laud’s College and his new library were the
centre of the entertainments that marked their stay in Oxford. The
Archbishop’s own words[274] give the best account of the festivities.
On the 30th of August, 1636, he says, “When they were come to S.
John’s they first viewed the new building, and that done I attended
them up to the Library stairs, where as soon as I began to ascend the
music began and they had a fine short song fitted for them as they
ascended the stairs. In the Library they were welcomed to the College
with a short speech made by one of the Fellows (Abraham Wright). And
dinner being ready they passed from the old into the new library, built
by myself, where the King, the Queen and the Prince Elector dined at
one table which stood cross at the upper end. And Prince Rupert with
all the lords and ladies present, which were very many, dined at a long
table in the same room. When dinner was ended I attended the King and
the Queen together with the nobles into several withdrawing chambers,
where they entertained themselves for the space of an hour. And in
the meantime I caused the windows of the hall to be shut, the candles
lighted, and all things made ready for the play to begin. When these
things were fitted, I gave notice to the King and Queen and attended
them into the hall. … The play[275] was very good and the action. It
was merry and without offence, and so gave a great deal of content.
In the middle of the play I ordered a short banquet for the King,
the Queen, and the lords. And the College was at that time so well
furnished as that they did not borrow any one actor from any College
in town. The play ended, the King and Queen went to Christ Church.” A
contemporary notes among the quaintnesses of the entertainment that
“the baked meats were so contrived by the cook, that there was first
the forms of archbishops, then bishops, doctors, etc., seen in order,
wherein the King and courtiers took much content.” “No man,” says Laud,
“went out at the gates, courtier or other, but content; which was a
happiness quite beyond expectation.” The next day, when the royal party
had left, the Chancellor entertained the University authorities, “which
gave the University a great deal of content, being that which had never
been done by any Chancellor before.” “I sat with them,” he says, “at
table; we were merry, and very glad that all things had so passed to
the great satisfaction of the King and the honour of that place.”
By this time Laud had not only given to his own College a notable
position in the University, but had reformed and legislated for the
University itself. The statutes had long been in confusion; Convocation
in any case of difficulty passed a new rule which frequently conflicted
with the old statutes, and the government of the undergraduates
seems to have been very lax. The University submitted its laws to
the Chancellor, who, with the aid of a learned lawyer of Merton
College, revised and codified them. How he desired that the students
should be ruled may be seen by his careful direction to the heads of
Colleges,[276] that “the youths should conform themselves to the public
discipline of the University. … And particularly see that none, youth
or other, be suffered to go in boots or spurs, or to wear their hair
undecently long, or with a lock in the present fashion, or with slashed
doublets, or in any light or garish colours; and that noblemen’s sons
may conform in everything, as others do, during the time of their abode
there, which will teach them to know the difference of places and order
betimes; and when they grow up to be men it will make them look back
upon that place with honour to it and reputation to you.” So successful
was he in impressing the spirit of discipline and self-restraint,
that Sir John Coke was able to congratulate the University in 1636
that “scholars are no more found in taverns, nor seen loitering in the
streets or other places of idleness or ill-example, but all contain
themselves within the walls of their Colleges, and in the schools
or public libraries, wherein I confess you have at length gotten
the start, and by your virtue and merit have made this University,
which before had no paragon in any foreign country, now to go beyond
itself and give a glorious example to others not to go behind.” In
the Register of S. John’s College there are curious examples of the
discipline maintained. To take an instance from a somewhat later
time, under the date of April 4th, 1668, we have “Memorandum, that I,
Thomas Tuer, being convented and convicted, _secunda vice_, before the
Vice-President and Seniors of the breach of the statutes _de morum
honestate_ by injuriously striking Sir Waple, was for this my fault
according to the statutes on that behalf put out of commons for 15
days. Thomas Tuer.”
By his example of conscientious perseverance, by his devotion to
learning, and by his munificent building and endowment, Laud had
brought both his College and the University to a high standard of
culture and research. These were indeed the halcyon days of S. John’s,
when Laud, its “second founder,” was Chancellor of the University and
Primate of all England; Juxon his pious and sagacious successor as
President was Bishop of London and Lord Treasurer; and Dr. Richard
Baylie governed the College, whose annalist says that never was there
more diligent scholar, more learned Fellow, or more prudent Head.[277]
But the University soon fell on evil days; discipline was dissolved,
teaching and learning were alike suspended, and the streets rang with
the summons to arms. The city bore for several years the aspect at
once of a camp, and of an exiled Court. In these troubles S. John’s
had its full share. Scholars joined the King’s troops, Fellows were
driven from their country livings, the College gave up its treasures
to the Royal cause. In the College Register of 1642 is inserted the
following letter--“Charles R. Trusty and well beloved, we greet you
well. We are so well satisfied with your readiness and Affection to
our service that we cannot doubt but you will take all occasions to
express the same. And as we are ready to sell or engage any of our
lands, so we have melted down our Plate for the payment of our Army
raised for our defence and the preservation of the Kingdom. And having
received several quantities of Plate from divers of our loving subjects
we have removed our Mint hither to our City of Oxford for the coining
thereof. And we do hereby desire you that you will send unto us all
such plate of what kind soever which belongs to your College, promising
you to see the same justly repaid unto you after the rate of 5_s._ the
ounce for white, and 5_s._ 6_d._ for gilt plate as soon as God shall
enable us. For assure yourselves we shall never let persons of whom we
have so great a care to suffer for their affection unto us, but shall
take special order for the repayment of what you have already lent to
us according to our promise. … And we assure ourselves of the very
great willingness to gratify us herein, since besides the more public
considerations you cannot but know how much yourselves are concerned in
our sufferings. And we shall always remember this particular service to
your advantage. Given at our Court at Oxford this 6th day of Jan. 1642
(1643).”
“In answer to his Majesty’s letters,” says the Register, “it was
consented and unanimously agreed by the President and Fellows of the
College that the plate of the College should be delivered unto his
Majesty’s use.” It was melted down, and the coin so struck was stamped
with the initials of the President, Dr. Richard Baylie.
In June 1643 the King wrote again to the College, asking that some of
its members should subscribe 4_s._ a week for a month for the support
of soldiers: “we do assure you on the word of a king that this charge
shall lie on you but one month.” Soon after this Laud resigned his
Chancellorship in a touching letter from his prison, and in making
his will showed the deepest attachment to the College where he “was
bred.” Baylie, who was his executor, was not long suffered to remain
in his post. The Parliamentary Commission which visited the University
in January 1648 ordered that the President of S. John’s College,
“being adjudged guilty of high contempt by denial of the authority of
Parliament, be removed from” his office, “and accordingly the said Dr.
Baylie is required forthwith to yield obedience hereunto, and to remove
from the said College and quit the said place, and all emoluments,
rights and appointments thereunto belonging.” They abolished the
choral service, appropriating Sir William Paddy’s endowment to the
increase of the President’s salary. These Commissioners, says Dr.
Joseph Taylor, were men “in whom there was nothing lacking save
religion, virtue, and learning,” and the oath which they required of
the Fellows, for the sake of ejecting them when they refused it, was
“as ridiculous as it was detestable.” In the place of the existing
foundation they put as President Francis Cheynell, the zealot who had
anathematized Chillingworth as he lay dying (a man, says Taylor, “non
tantum fanaticus sed et furiosus”), and they filled the Fellowships
with men collected anywhere and than the majority of whom “there could
be nothing more ignorant or more abject.” Cheynell held the Presidency
only two years, when he was obliged to make choice between it and a
valuable living in Sussex. He was succeeded by one Thankful or Gracious
Owen, a Fellow of Lincoln College, under whose rule the College
languished in poverty and neglect until the Restoration, its property
dissipated and its learning in decay.
The return of the King brought back Head and Fellows. A blank page in
the College Register is followed by a lease signed by “R. Baylie,”
without note or comment on his deprivation or return. The first results
of the Restoration were works of piety. Before long the body of the
aged Juxon was laid near the founder beneath the altar in the chapel.
It was now possible to carry out the last wish of Laud himself, who in
his will had desired “to be buried in the chapel of S. John Baptist
College, under the altar or communion table there.” All was done
privately, as he had himself directed. Yet the stillness of night,
the torches and the flickering candles, the reverence of the restored
foundation to the greatest and most loyal of its sons, must have given
a unique solemnity to the scene. “The day then, or rather the night,”
says Anthony Wood, “being appointed wherein he should come to Oxon,
most of the Fellows, about sixteen or twenty in number, went to meet
him towards Wheatley, and after they had met him, about seven of the
clock on Friday, July 24th, 1663, they came to Oxon at ten at night,
with the said number before him, and his corpse lying on a horse litter
on four wheels drawn by four horses, following, and a coach after that.
In the same way they went up to S. Mary’s Church, then up Cat’s Street,
then to the back-door of S. John’s Grove; where, taking his coffin out,
they conveyed [it] to the chapel; when Mr. Gisbey, Fellow of that house
and Vice-President, had spoke a speech, they laid him inclosed in a
wooden coffin in a little vault at the upper end of the chancel between
the founder’s and Archbishop Juxon’s.”
The most interesting period of the College history was during the
reigns of the Stuarts. The same spirit of devotion to the Church and
loyalty to the throne which had animated Laud and Juxon still breathed
in their successors. Tobias Rustat, Esquire, Yeoman of the Robes to
Charles II., and Under Housekeeper of Hampton Court, left a large
sum to endow loyal lectures--two on “the day of the horrid and most
execrable murder of that most glorious Prince and Martyr”; one to
be read by the Dean of Divinity, and the other by “some one of the
most ingenious Scholars or Fellows whom the President shall appoint,”
setting forth the “barbarous cruelty of that unparalleled parricide”;
one by the Dean of Law on October 23rd, “which was the day wherein
Rebellion did appear solemnly armed against Majesty”; and a fourth on
the 29th of May, “setting forth the glory and happiness of that day,”
which saw the birth of Charles II. and his “triumphant return.” There
is in the College library a curious portrait of Charles I., over which
in a minute hand several Psalms are written. Tradition has it that when
the “merry monarch” visited Oxford he asked for this eccentric piece of
work, and that when, on leaving, in recognition of his loyal welcome
he offered to give the Fellows anything they should ask, they declared
that no gift could be so precious as the restoration to them of the
portrait of his father. The story, true or not, could only be told of a
College which was famous as the home of devoted loyalty to the Stuarts.
It was Dr. Peter Mews (or Meaux), Baylie’s successor as President, who
lent his carriage horses to draw the royal cannon to Sedgmoor. When
Nicholas Amherst (the author of a collection of scurrilous essays
which he called after the name of the licensed buffoon at the Encænia,
Terræ Filius) was expelled the College for his irregularities, he made
up a plausible tale that the reason for his expulsion was that he was
the only man loyal to the Hanoverian line in a nest of Jacobites.
He lost no opportunity of attacking the College, with no regard for
truth or consistency. Dr. Delaune (President 1698-1728) was his most
prominent victim. Once, says he, that learned President was affronted
in the theatre by Terrae Filius, who called out to him by name as
he came in, shaking a box and dice, and crying “_Jacta est alea_,
doctor, seven’s the main,” in allusion to “a scandalous report handed
about by the doctor’s enemies, that he had lost great sums of other
people’s money at dice.” But Jacobitism was an accusation much more
plausible, and we are inclined not altogether to disbelieve him when
he says that the Latitudinarian Hoadly was abused in a Latin oration
in chapel as “iste malus logicus, pejor politicus, pessimus theologus;
a bad logician, a worse statesman, and the worst of all divines.” Dr.
Richard Rawlinson, who had been a gentleman commoner of the College,
and left to it on his death in 1755 the bulk of his estate, was a
typical antiquary and worshipper of the exiled House. His collection of
letters and MSS., the researches which he made into the early history
of the Foundation, are among the most cherished possessions of the
College. “Ubi thesaurus ibi cor” is the motto of the urn in chapel
which contains his heart. His “treasure” was divided between S. John’s
and the Bodleian; his heart, which had beaten with an equal affection
for the Stuarts and for the College, remained among those who shared
his semi-sentimental attachment. It was said of Dr. Holmes (President
1728-48) that he was probably the first Fellow, and certainly the first
Head, of the College who was loyal to the Hanoverian Succession. Almost
within living memory the Fellows of S. John’s in their Common Room, “a
large handsome room, the scene of a great deal of learning and a great
many puns,”[278] toasted the king “over the water.” Up till the middle
of the present century, indeed, it was a college of survivals. The
old loyal lectures were read, the old “gaudies” held, the old rules
maintained. Throughout the eighteenth century the founder’s order
against absence from College was strictly observed: all permissions
to be away from Oxford were carefully recorded in the Register. Leave
was at first only granted on the business of the College, or the king,
or a bishop; and it is said of one Dr. Sherard that he had to give up
his Fellowship when he had exhausted the list of the Episcopal bench.
Even Doctors of Divinity were obliged to get license to “go down.” Dr.
Smith, though Master of Merchant Taylors’ School (died 1730), could not
teach his boys without the College leave to be absent from Oxford. Only
in recent years has iconoclastic modernism destroyed the old progresses
round the College estates, formal fishing of the College waters, and
festive commemoration of days of ecclesiastical or royalist note. The
history of the last and of the present century lies outside the scope
of this sketch, and the share that S. John’s has had in the important
movements of the last seventy years is left untold. Much has undergone
change, at the hands of Time and of Parliamentary Commissions; but
there still lingers one feature of the old life of the University which
elsewhere has passed away. S. John’s alone of all the Colleges has
(1891) no married Fellows; thus here as it can scarcely be elsewhere,
the College life is most closely centered within the College walls.
XVI.
JESUS COLLEGE.
BY THE REV. LL. THOMAS, M.A., VICE-PRINCIPAL OF JESUS COLLEGE.
Jesus College was the first Protestant Society established in Oxford,
and its appearance marks an epoch in the history of the University;
for “if Christ Church was the last and grandest effort of expiring
Mediævalism, if Trinity and St. John’s commemorated the re-action under
Philip and Mary, Jesus, by its very name, took its stand as the first
Protestant College.”[279]
It may seem at first sight that there ought to be little difficulty in
tracing the origin and settlement of a College which thus came into
being in the latter half of the sixteenth century; but, partly because
much is obscure in the history of the institution out of which it was
erected, and partly because there are practically no College records
for the first sixty years of its own existence, the historian of Jesus
College has very scanty materials for his account of its foundation and
early annals, and has to put down much which rests rather on inference
than on documentary evidence.
About the year 1460, John Rowse, the Warwick antiquary, wrote down a
list[280] of Halls and other places of study in Oxford. In this four
Halls are mentioned, all for “legists,” that is, students of Canon
and of Civil Law, viz. White, Hawk, Laurence, and Elm Halls, which
stood on the site now occupied by Jesus College. These represented a
once greater number of Halls, for Laurence Hall had absorbed Plomer
(or Plummer) Hall; and in White Hall had been merged another White
Hall,[281] which stood back to back with it, and apparently (but the
evidence is hardly tangible) other Halls. In the next century the
number of Halls was still further reduced, and by 1552 we find White
Hall alone left,[282] having possibly drawn into its own precincts the
buildings of its old neighbours. This White Hall stood on the north
side of Cheyney Lane (now called Market Street), a short distance from
the corner where it enters the Turl. It was a very old place of study,
being mentioned as early as 1262, and having a well-marked succession
of Principals from 1436 to 1552.
The point of capital importance in view of its relation to Jesus
College is whether, about the time of the Reformation, White Hall
became distinctly a Hall for Welsh students; but that point cannot be
determined. The occasional and imperfect lists of members of White
Hall found up to 1552 exhibit only a few Welsh names, from which it
may perhaps be inferred that Welshmen were then in a distinct minority
in this Hall. The two graduates of White Hall who are mentioned in
1562[283] are both Welsh, as also are their pupils; but these notices
are a mere accident. If, however, Jesus College took over the inmates
of White Hall, they must have been mostly Welshmen, because the first
College list[284] (1572-3, two years after the foundation) exhibits
almost exclusively Welsh names. On the whole, it is best to say that
the evidence does not justify the belief that White Hall, which Jesus
College superseded, was distinctly a Hall of Welsh students.
At the petition of Hugo Price, or Ap Rice, Doctor of Laws, Treasurer
of St. Davids, Queen Elizabeth granted the first Letters Patent, dated
the 27th of June, 1571, establishing “quoddam Collegium eruditionis
scientiarum, philosophiae, bonarum artium, linguarum cognitionis,
Hebraicae, Graecae, et Latinae, ad finalem sacrae Theologiae
professionem,” and conferring on the new foundation all the lands,
buildings, and personalty of White Hall. From these words of the
Foundation Charter it appears that the College was primarily intended
to be a place of training for theologians; a secondary object is thus
summed up, “denique ad Ecclesiae Christi, regni nostri, ac subditorum
nostrorum communem utilitatem et felicitatem.”
Soon after the issue of the Letters Patent, but it is not known exactly
when, the building of the College began, the first portion erected
being two stories of the east front and two staircases[285] of the
southern side of the outer quadrangle. For many years, probably till
1618, the work was not extended, and the following story is handed
down. A stone was inserted in the wall on the south side of the
gateway, bearing this inscription--
“Struxit Hugo Prisius tibi clara palatia, Iesu,
Ut Doctor Legum pectora docta daret.”
“Nondum,” laughed a University wit, one Christopher Rainald,
“Nondum struxit Hugo, vix fundamenta locavit:
Det Deus ut possis dicere ‘struxit Hugo’!”
Of the first founder, Hugo Price, very little is known. “He was born,”
Wood says, “at Brecknock,[286] bred up as ’tis generally thought, in
Oseney Abbey, under an uncle of his that was a Canon there;” he did
not long survive the foundation of the College, and was buried (August
1574) in the Priory Church at Brecon.
The Letters Patent provide for the constitution of the College to
consist of a Principal, eight Fellows, and eight Scholars, nominate
persons to fill all these places, and arrange for future appointments.
The Principal nominated was David Powell, Doctor of Laws. Among the
Fellows may be noticed Robert Johnson, B.D.,[287] afterwards Archdeacon
of Leicester, the founder of Uppingham and Oakham Schools. Among the
scholars Thomas Dove, afterwards Bishop of Peterborough, and Lancelot
Andrews, Bishop successively of Chichester, Ely, and Winchester. The
College is then incorporated, invested with corporate legal powers and
a common seal, and united with the University “ut pars, parcella, et
membrum.” Concession is granted to Hugo Price to endow the College with
lands and revenues to the amount of a clear £60 per annum, and to the
College to receive further endowments to the extent of £100 a year; and
finally an important body of Commissioners is appointed (including Lord
Burghley and other magnates, and the Chancellor or Vice-Chancellor of
the University, together with the Principal and two Fellows), to draw
up all the necessary statutes for the government of the College. There
is also a tradition that leave was given to the College to receive a
supply of timber from the royal forests of Stow and Shotover towards
the erection of the fabric.