CONFLICTS BETWEEN THE UNIVERSITY AND THE CITY.
[Sidenote: Royal award of 1290]
The famous riot of St. Scholastica’s Day, 1354, may be regarded
as the sequel of a similar fray in 1297. Both were simply violent
eruptions of a deep-seated feud between the University and city of
Oxford, which had been growing for several generations. In the year
1290, these bodies appeared by their deputies before the King and
Parliament, when certain articles of peace were concluded, under Royal
authority, which exhibit in a compendious form the main grievances of
the citizens. Most of these grievances relate to alleged abuses of
the Chancellor’s criminal jurisdiction; others have reference to more
or less oppressive privileges of the University, such as its claim to
something like fixity of rent, if not of tenure, for houses in the
occupation of scholars. On each point submitted to him the King’s award
is conspicuous for its good sense and moderation.
[Sidenote: Riot of 1297 and agreement of 1298]
The complaints here formulated in the most authentic shape enable us
to understand the bitter animosity which aggravated town-and-gown
rows of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries into sanguinary
conflicts sometimes bordering upon civil war. Contests about municipal
franchises, prices of provisions, and rents of halls or inns, were
eagerly fanned into a flame by the impetuous passions of youth,
unrestrained by the kindlier sentiments of humanity and respect for
others which temper party-spirit in this happier age. But seven years
had elapsed since this award of Edward I. had been made, when, as
Anthony Wood tells us, ‘there arose a grievous discord between the
clerks and laics of Oxford, occasioned by the fighting of two servants
of various countries that were upon some small occasion invited
thereunto.’ Several murderous affrays had already taken place since
the incident thus noticed, before any general muster of townspeople or
students took place. In the meantime the Chancellor exerted himself
to restore order, but several aldermen and leading citizens headed
the mob, who sacked various scholars’ houses and defeated a body
of gownsmen on the favourite battle-ground of the Beaumont. After
this it appears the Chancellor declined to comply with the mayor’s
request that he would confine the gownsmen to their inns. Accordingly,
on the following day the bells of St. Mary’s, as well as of St.
Martin’s, called the combatants to arms, and several thousands are
said to have engaged in the desperate fray which ensued. At first the
gownsmen carried all before them, being superior both in weapons and
in defensive armour, and broke open many shops and dwellings of the
burghers. But the death of their leader and the irruption of rustic
labourers from the country to aid the townspeople ultimately turned
the tide of battle against them. Once compelled to retreat, they were
hunted down and brutally maltreated by the populace; several were
killed; others were torn from the sanctuaries to which they had fled,
and driven with whips and goads into the castle gaol. The ordinary
retribution followed. The citizens implicated in the disturbance were
excommunicated by the Bishop of Lincoln; some of the worst offenders
were consigned to the Chancellor’s prison; two bailiffs were removed
from their office, and other persons were banished from Oxford. A
‘final agreement’ made between the University and city in 1298, and
preserved in the University archives, records these sentences, together
with a general amnesty for all other offences prior to the agreement,
and a renewed promise on the part of the City to respect all the
privileges of the University.
[Sidenote: Great riot of 1354]
How long this truce lasted we have no means of knowing, but no equally
murderous encounter took place at Oxford until St. Scholastica’s Day,
Feb. 10, 1354.[6] Like the riot of 1297, it arose out of a trumpery
squabble, but was carried on for three days with all the savage fury of
an Irish faction fight. Two students drinking at the Swyndlestock, or
Mermaid, tavern, near Carfax, assaulted the landlord, and were forcibly
ejected. Again the bell of St. Martin’s was rung by order of the
mayor, and that of St. Mary’s by order of the Chancellor, at whom an
arrow had been shot by one of the citizens. In the disturbances which
immediately followed no one seems to have been mortally wounded; but on
the following morning, notwithstanding the efforts of the Chancellor,
ostensibly seconded by the mayor, a general battle was commenced by
the citizens, armed with bows and arrows, who drove the scholars out
of the Augustine schools, cleared the whole northern suburb of their
enemies, and sent messengers to call in reinforcements from the
neighbouring villages. To bar the entrance of these auxiliaries, the
scholars made themselves masters of the northern and eastern gates; but
the villagers, making a circuit, poured in by the west gate, numbering,
it is said, nearly 2,000, and swept the streets with fierce cries of
‘Slay, slay!’ ‘Havock and havock!’ The gownsmen were fairly overborne,
and not only that evening but a great part of the next day was spent
by the victorious townspeople in glutting their savage vengeance,
pillaging hall after hall, and killing or wounding any scholar who
fell into their hands; indeed, if we are to believe Anthony Wood, they
went so far as to scalp more than one chaplain whom they captured, in
contempt of the priestly tonsure.
[Sidenote: Interdict and penance]
Such an outrage roused the whole clerical order, and the Church took
up the quarrel of the University as her own. After due inquiry an
interdict was laid upon the city by the Bishop of Lincoln, and all the
municipal authorities, if not all the lay inhabitants, were visited
with ‘the major excommunication.’ They appear to have remained under
ecclesiastical censure for some three years, since the relaxation of
the interdict and the indenture of peace between the University and
city bear date May 1357. We learn from these documents that at last the
city made a complete and humble submission, confessing itself deserving
of a like excommunication if it should ever again sin in like manner,
and binding itself to accept whatever penance the Bishop should lay
upon it. This penance consisted in the signature of a compact under
which the mayor, bailiffs, and sixty leading citizens were obliged to
attend mass every year in St. Mary’s Church on St. Scholastica’s Day,
and to offer at the high altar one penny each, of which sum two-thirds
was to be distributed at once by the proctors among poor scholars. The
city also undertook to pay one hundred marks annually to the University
by way of compensation on the same day, but was relieved from this
obligation by a deed of even date, upon condition of the other compact
being duly fulfilled.
[Sidenote: New charter granted by the King]
In the meantime, however, the mayor and burgesses had formally resigned
their ancient franchises into the King’s hands, and the University
received a new charter of privileges and immunities as a reward for
the indignities to which it had been subjected on St. Scholastica’s
Day. Under this charter, the Chancellor of the University obtained the
sole control over the ‘assize’ of bread, wine, ale, and beer; over
the ‘assay’ of weights and measures, with jurisdiction in all cases
of ‘forestalling,’ ‘regrating,’ and selling unwholesome food; over
the assessment of rates and taxes, the management of the streets, and
like municipal affairs. He was also empowered to expel all disorderly
students, and the provision for the forfeiture of their arms shows
how generally arms were carried in those turbulent days. Moreover,
though he was not as yet permitted to rescue and sit in judgment on
scholars accused of treason, murder, or ‘mayhem,’ this privilege was
afterwards conceded by letters patent of 1407; but it was provided that
academical prisoners should be tried before a mixed jury of gownsmen
and townspeople. It is not difficult to understand how galling such
concessions must have been to the citizens of Oxford, and however gross
the outrages for which they were the atonement, we can hardly wonder
that a bitter grudge should have been cherished by the City against the
University so long as they remained in force.
FOOTNOTES:
[6] In the meantime, in deference to complaints made by the Chancellor,
the King, Edward II., in the year 1315, regulated the price of
provisions in the Oxford market, as well as in the markets of other
towns.