THE PARLIAMENTARY VISITATION AND THE COMMONWEALTH.
[Sidenote: Measures preparatory to the Visitation]
The Parliament, then dominated by Presbyterians, lost no time in
preparing the University for the coming ‘reformation,’ by sending
down seven Presbyterian divines with power to preach in any Oxford
church. These preachers were all University men, and included Reynolds,
Cheynell, Henry Wilkinson, and Corbet—four scholars of some repute,
and less obnoxious than such army chaplains as Hugh Peters, who had
already obtruded themselves into the Oxford pulpits. Wood ridicules the
effort to convert the academical mind through Presbyterian discourses;
but there is evidence that it was not without its effect, though it
provoked opposition from the rising sect of the Independents, already
established in Oxford, and good Churchmen were edified by a fierce
disputation between Cheynell and one Erbury, an Independent army
chaplain, formerly of Brasenose College, the favourite of the fanatical
soldiery. At the same time a Parliamentary order was issued inhibiting
elections to University or college offices, and the making or renewal
of leases ‘until the pleasure of Parliament be made known therein.’
Such interventions were of course warmly resented by academical
Royalists, especially as the King was still nominally in possession
of his throne, and could only be justified on the assumption that
sovereign authority now resided in the Parliament alone. On this
assumption, however, they were in accordance with the policy of
the four last Tudors, who had treated the University as a national
institution, to be moulded into conformity with each successive
modification of the National Church. Philip, Earl of Pembroke, who
had been deposed in 1643 to make room for the Marquis of Hertford,
now resumed his office, but does not appear to have exercised any
moderating control over the counsels either of the Parliament or of
the University. Meanwhile, the conflict between rival preachers and
the suspension of academical independence naturally produced a state
of anarchy in academical society, whose leading spirits were silently
organising themselves against the coming Visitation.
[Sidenote: Appointment of the Visitors and the Standing Committee of
Parliament]
The delay of the Parliament in commencing this Visitation may well
have been due to more urgent claims on their energy. On January 30,
1647, the King had been given up at Newcastle to the Parliamentary
commissioners, and other events of the greatest moment followed each
other in quick succession. Presbyterianism was ostensibly established
by the Westminster Assembly, but generally accepted by a small
part only of the kingdom, and undermined by the hostility of the
Independents. The so-called ‘Four Ordinances’ passed by Parliament, and
designed to weaken the power of the army, had been met by a protest
from a great meeting of officers held at Saffron Walden. This brought
about an acute conflict between these rival powers, and ‘the Lords and
Commons assembled in Parliament’ were meditating their unsuccessful
attempt to disband the army at the very time when they passed an
ordinance, on May 1, 1647, ‘for the Visitation and Reformation of the
University of Oxford and the several Colleges and Halls therein.’
The object of the Visitation was expressly defined to be ‘the due
correction of offences, abuses, and disorders, especially of late times
committed there.’ The Visitors were twenty-four in number, fourteen
laymen and ten clergymen, with Sir Nathaniel Brent, Warden of Merton
College, as the chairman; but the laymen gradually ceased to attend,
and the work mainly fell into the hands of the clerical Visitors. Among
the lay Visitors were several lawyers, including Brent himself and
Prynne; among the clerical visitors were three fellows of Merton, and
the Principal of Magdalen Hall, which, like Merton, was strongly tinged
with Presbyterian opinions. The Visitors were instructed to inquire
by oath concerning those who neglected to take the ‘Solemn League and
Covenant’ or the ‘Negative Oath,’ those who opposed the execution of
the orders of Parliament concerning the discipline and the Directory,
those who contravened ‘any point of doctrine the ignorance whereof doth
exclude from the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper,’ and those who had
borne arms against the Parliament. By the same ordinance a Standing
Committee of Lords and Commons was appointed to receive reports and
hear appeals from the Visitors; but it soon outstepped these functions,
and sometimes took upon itself the right of legislating directly for
the University.
[Sidenote: Early proceedings of the Visitors, and suppression of
resistance from the University]
The proceedings of the Visitors were opened by a citation issued upon
May 15, 1647, summoning the University to appear before them on June 4,
but an absurd informality led to an adjournment, which the events that
followed the seizure of the King at Holmby House prolonged for three
months. During the interval, a delegacy appointed by the University to
conduct its defence had drawn up a very forcible statement of ‘Reasons’
for not submitting to the new tests about to be imposed. The moderation
and ability of this statement did much to consolidate the opposition
to the Visitation, furnished a repertory of materials for the answers
afterwards made by individual colleges, and earned the special thanks
of the Parliament held at Oxford in 1665. The internal struggles
between the Presbyterians and the Independents favoured the University,
but the Committee of Lords and Commons intervened and armed the
Visitors with fresh powers, including that of compelling the production
of documents, imprisoning the contumacious, and pronouncing definitive
sentences of expulsion. This arbitrary commission, endorsed by the
Chancellor of the University, was conferred upon the Visitors in the
name of the king, himself a prisoner in the hands of the Parliament. On
September 29, 1647, their operations actually commenced with prayers
and preaching ‘for three hours together,’ after which all the Heads of
Houses were cited to appear, Dean Fell of Christchurch being specially
cited as vice-chancellor, and a number of resident fellows were
appointed to act as assistants to the Visitors, ‘and to enquire into
the behaviour of all Governours, Professors, Officers, and Members.’
A large majority of the University and college authorities offered a
resolute though passive resistance, and when the vice-chancellor, as
the avowed leader of the malcontents, was seized and imprisoned, the
Visitors found their legal action more paralysed than ever for want
of any constitutional authority through which their orders could be
carried out. The London Committee, however, again came to their rescue,
and on November 11, 1647, six Heads of colleges, with three canons
of Christchurch, and the two proctors, were forced to appear before
this Committee. Selden, Whitelocke, and others stood their friends,
but the adverse majority prevailed, and sentence of deprivation
was pronounced upon most of them. Still the Visitors’ orders were
disregarded, and ‘not a man stirred from his place or removed.’ At
last, on February 18, 1648, Reynolds was appointed vice-chancellor by
the Earl of Pembroke, and the proctors superseded in favour of men
who could be trusted—Crosse of Lincoln and Button of Merton; while
the Chancellor himself was deputed, on March 8, to instal the new
functionaries in office, and to bring the University into subjection.
On March 30 a further order of deprivation was published, embracing
the removal of Sheldon from the wardenship of All Souls’, and Hammond
from his canonry of Christchurch. About the same time the Visitors were
empowered to use the military force at their disposal, and on April
11 the Chancellor himself arrived to enforce obedience. He found the
University in a state of almost open mutiny against the Parliament and
the Visitors. In spite of fresh orders and the appearance of a body of
troops sent down by Fairfax, the Heads of Houses sentenced to expulsion
refused to quit their colleges, Mrs. Fell retained possession of the
deanery in her husband’s absence, and when the members of Convocation
were solemnly cited to meet the Visitors a mere handful responded.
Great pains had been taken to mar the dignity of the Chancellor’s
reception, and loyal pamphleteers lavished their bitterest jests on
the absence of academical ceremony, the presence of soldiers, and the
substitution of an English for a Latin address of welcome. But all
serious resistance was now vain. During a stay of three days Pembroke
was lodged at Merton, where the Visitors usually held their sittings
in the Warden’s house, and had already abstracted the University
register from the rooms of French, the registrar, who happened to be a
fellow of the college. Reynolds was installed as vice-chancellor; ten
Heads of colleges were actually ejected, most of the professors and
canons of Christchurch shared the same fate; two vacant headships were
immediately filled up, and worthy successors were appointed to most of
the offices vacated by expulsion; new Masters of Arts were created,
some imported from Cambridge, and the Visitors proceeded to purge each
college with a view to its re-organisation.
[Sidenote: Visitation of colleges. Submissions and expulsions]
The details of these collegiate Visitations are beyond the scope of
general University history, but they were all conducted on the same
principle. Every member of the college, from the Head to the humblest
servant, was asked whether he would submit. No evasions were allowed,
and the ‘non-submitters’ were at once turned out. At a later period
(November 1648) the London Committee insisted on the Visitors tendering
also the Negative Oath, involving an abjuration of all connection with
the King, his council, or his officers, and the refusal of this new
test led to some further expulsions. After the lapse of a year, the
London Committee went one step further, and required subscription to
‘the Engagement,’ pledging the signatories to a government without a
King or House of Lords. Reynolds, Pocock, and Mills, who had taken
all the former tests, resigned their offices rather than submit to
this, but it does not seem to have been strictly or universally
applied. No exact list of the cases in which the Visitors exercised
their jurisdiction can now be made out, but the evidence preserved
in the ‘Visitors’ Register,’ which has come down to us, leads to
the conclusion that the numbers of the submissions and expulsions
were nearly equal, amounting in each case to 400 or 500, and spread
over several years. So obstinate was the resistance of some colleges
that it was at last thought necessary to proclaim that any expelled
members remaining in Oxford should incur the penalty of death. But the
functions of the Visitors were by no means purely inquisitorial and
judicial. They also superintended, and often personally directed, the
whole internal management of colleges, regulating leases, dictating
admissions to scholarships and fellowships, making arrangements for
examinations, deciding on the rate of allowances, suggesting if not
prescribing the alteration of statutes, and overriding corporate rights
of self-government with a despotic air which Laud might have envied.
[Sidenote: Reception of Fairfax and Cromwell]
While they were thus engaged, Fairfax and Cromwell visited Oxford
together in state on May 17, 1649. They were lodged and entertained
at All Souls’, in the absence of the new Warden, now on duty in
Parliament, by Zanchy, the sub-warden, and one of the proctors, who
happened to be a colonel in the Parliamentary army. Both the generals
received a D.C.L. degree, and Cromwell, addressing the University
authorities on behalf of himself and Fairfax, professed his respect
for the interests of learning, and assured them of his desire to
promote these interests for the sake of the commonwealth. They dined at
Magdalen, played bowls on the college green, had supper in the Bodleian
Library, and attended University sermons at St. Mary’s. There is no
reason to doubt the sincerity of the assurances given by Cromwell,
who became Chancellor on the death of Pembroke, in January 1650. In
this capacity, he not only presented the University with a collection
of manuscripts, but resisted the reduction of academical endowments
proposed by the Barebones Parliament, and supported by Milton; while
Fairfax, himself a man of scholarlike tastes, had already proved his
regard for the University when the city was in his power.
[Sidenote: Second Board of Visitors]
The first stage of the Visitation terminated in April 1652, when the
London Committee was dissolved, and the Visitors ceased to act. Their
work had been constantly interrupted by differences with the London
Committee, whom they recognised as their official superiors, but who
had of course little acquaintance with University affairs. These bodies
were equally resolved to Presbyterianise the University, to make its
education more emphatically religious, to strengthen moral discipline,
and to enforce such rules as those against excess in dress, and
even that which enjoined the colloquial use of Latin. They differed
chiefly in their mode of action, the Visitors desiring to adopt a
more conciliatory attitude, and to show more respect for academical
independence than the London Committee was prepared to sanction.
Several changes had taken place among the former, and the retirement
of Reynolds had weakened the moderate party on a board which, however,
remained distinctively Presbyterian. During the fourteen months between
April 1652 and June 1653 the history of the University, like the
Visitors’ Register, presents almost a blank. On September 9, 1652,
Owen, who had succeeded Reynolds as Dean of Christchurch, was nominated
vice-chancellor by Cromwell. On October 16 he was placed at the head
of a commission to execute all the Chancellor’s official powers. With
him were associated Goddard, the Warden of Merton; Wilkins, the Warden
of Wadham; Goodwin, the President of Magdalen; and Peter French,
prebendary of Christchurch; and the government of the University seems
to have been practically transferred from the Visitors into their
hands. Of these men, Goddard had been head physician to Cromwell’s
army in Ireland, and afterwards in Scotland; Owen and Goodwin had been
his chaplains, and thoroughly enjoyed his confidence; Wilkins was one
of the most eminent scientific authorities of his time; French was
Cromwell’s brother-in-law and had been on the Board of Visitors. All
of these, except Wilkins, were appointed, with five others, to serve
on a new and temporary Board of Visitors, for the creation of which
the University itself had petitioned, in order to carry on the new
academical settlement, with the expression of a hope that they might
be fewer in number than before, and all resident. The proceedings of
this Board, in which the Independents were more strongly represented,
deserve but little notice. The process of weeding out the University
and colleges having been completed, and strict rules laid down, little
remained except to interpret these rules, to organise the new system,
and to guard against the revival of abuses. The Visitors, however,
agreed to meet every Monday and Tuesday, and succeeded in doing
much useful work. In September 1654, the Board was reconstituted by
Cromwell, who had been solemnly congratulated by the University on his
assumption of the Protectorate in the previous December.
[Sidenote: Third Board of Visitors, and conclusion of the Visitation]
As Owen had been the ruling spirit on the second Board of Visitors,
so this last was mainly dominated by the influence of Goodwin, and
contained several additional members, some Presbyterians. It lasted
no less than four years, but the records of its proceedings are but
scanty, and chiefly relate to corrections of abuses, such as corrupt
resignations of fellowships and irregular elections. In short, the
Parliamentary Visitors, having placed the government of the University
and colleges in hands which they regarded as trustworthy, were mainly
occupied in discharging the functions which properly belonged to
the Chancellor and the ordinary Visitors of the several colleges.
In an appeal from Jesus College, they deliberately set aside the
jurisdiction of the Earl of Pembroke as hereditary Visitor of that
society. On the other hand, after Cromwell’s resignation of the
chancellorship on July 3, 1657, they went so far as to lay before him
their decision on an important case at All Souls’, and received from
him an assurance ‘of all due encouragement and countenance from his
Highnesse and the Councell.’ Even while they were claiming a paramount
authority, the University was insensibly recovering its independence.
As vice-chancellor and Dean of Christchurch, Owen was still a great
power in the University, and supported a body of Delegates who proposed
a sort of provisional constitution for the University under which
independent representatives of Convocation would have been associated
with the Visitors. In another instance, Owen sought to override a
vote of Convocation against reforms which he proposed by the direct
action of the Visitors and even of the Protector’s Council, but was
foiled in the first attempt, and dissuaded from making the second.
In fact, the University had begun to legislate again for itself, and
was becoming somewhat impatient of being nursed and schooled by a
meddlesome select committee of its own members. As Convocation alleged,
‘Visitors residing upon the place do rather nourish and ferment than
appease differences,’ and there was a natural resentment against Heads
of colleges acting as judges on their own causes. Having done its
real work, the Visitation was perishing of inanition. After Richard
Cromwell had been elected Chancellor in July 1657, he appointed Dr.
Conant, Rector of Exeter, vice-chancellor, and from this moment Conant,
whose importance had long been growing, became the real governor of
the University. With a firmness and zeal for reform fully equal to
Owen’s, he combined a more conciliatory and statesmanlike character,
and while he resisted, as the champion of academical privileges,
Cromwell’s scheme for a new University at Durham, he stoutly upheld the
autonomy of colleges against the project for superseding all episcopal
Visitors. Nevertheless, for six months after his nomination to the
vice-chancellorship the Parliamentary Visitors continued to meet, and
to make occasional orders, the last of which is dated April 8, 1658,
when their register breaks off abruptly. It is not known how their
commission was terminated, or whether it was terminated at all. By this
time, however, it was beginning to be manifest that, after all, the old
order in Church and State was regretted by a majority of the people,
and that England was almost tired of Puritan despotism. Parliament
itself had virtually established an amended monarchy with a new House
of Lords, and the army alone had prevented Cromwell from assuming the
title of King. No one was better aware than he of the reaction in
popular sentiment, calling for a revival of the institutions so hastily
demolished, and his prescient mind foreboded, if it did not actually
foresee, the coming restoration of the Stuarts. In this last year
of his life there was no force in the central government to push on
further interference with Oxford. Moreover the University was now in
good order, and possessed the confidence of the nation.
[Sidenote: State of the University on the recovery of its independence]
It is clear, indeed, from scattered notices of passing events, that its
inner life had been less disturbed by the presence of the Visitors than
we might infer from the space which they naturally fill in University
history, and that since the close of the Civil War Oxford studies and
habits had been gradually resuming their ordinary course. It is some
proof of this that even during the Puritan interregnum no order was
issued to put down the disorderly and indecorous buffoonery of the
_Terræ Filii_, those self-constituted and privileged satirists whose
sallies upon University dignitaries continued to scandalise graver
censors of academical morals for several generations. When John Evelyn
visited Oxford in 1654, and witnessed the celebration of the Act in
St. Mary’s Church, he found ‘the ancient ceremonies and institutions
as yet not wholly abolished,’ enjoyed the usual round of festivities,
and admired the mechanical inventions contrived by Dr. Wilkins with the
aid of young Christopher Wren. In the following year a coffee-house was
opened opposite All Souls’ College, and largely frequented by Royalists
and others ‘who esteemed themselves either _virtuosi_ or wits,’ and
in many a private house the services of the Church were regularly
performed by clergymen in surplices, to congregations of gownsmen,
with the full knowledge, if not the actual connivance, of Cromwell and
the Visitors. The academical population was already larger than it had
been in the reign of James I., and the University contained quite as
many scholars and divines of established reputation. Throughout all
the disorders and confusion incident to revolutionary times, it had
never ceased to be respected as a home of religion and learning, and
Clarendon himself bears unconscious witness to the character of the
Visitation in the well-known passage which concludes his strictures
upon it. For, after denouncing it as a reign of barbarism, he proceeds
to say that, in spite of all, the University ‘yielded a harvest of
extraordinary good and sound knowledge in all parts of learning, and
many who were wickedly introduced applied themselves to the study of
good learning and the practice of virtue, and had inclination to that
duty and obedience they had never been taught, so that when it pleased
God to bring King Charles the Second back to his throne, he found that
University abounding in excellent learning, and devoted to duty and
obedience little inferior to what it was before its desolation.’