UNIVERSITY POLITICS BETWEEN THE REVOLUTION AND THE ACCESSION OF GEORGE
III.
[Sidenote: Attitude of the University towards the Revolution. Visit of
William III.]
The Revolution of 1688-9 seems to have been quietly accepted at Oxford
as an irrevocable fact rather than welcomed as the consecration of
civil and religious liberty. For a while, indeed, the outrageous
invasion of academical privileges by James II. produced its natural
effect, and deputies from the University were despatched to salute
William III. at Crewkerne, after his landing in Torbay. William
actually came as far as Abingdon, but, there receiving news of James’s
flight, sent to excuse himself, and hurried on towards London. Burnet
tells us that, at the same time, and at his request, the ‘Association,’
or pledge to support him in restoring order and liberty, was signed by
almost all the Heads of colleges and the chief men of the University.
But he adds that some of the signatories, ‘being disappointed in the
preferments they aspired to, became afterwards King William’s most
implacable enemies.’ At all events, reactionary tendencies gradually
manifested themselves, and it is said that Locke, who had little cause
for gratitude to Oxford, urged the King to reform the Universities once
more, alleging that otherwise the work of the Revolution ‘would all
soon go back.’ William had been recognised as a deliverer, but Oxford
loyalists had not abandoned their allegiance to the Stuart dynasty,
however inconsistent with their submission to William as king _de
facto_ by the will of a Parliamentary majority. It was not until the
autumn of 1695, after the death of Mary, and the complete transfer of
power to the Whigs, that he found time to visit the University, for a
few hours only, on his way from Woodstock to Windsor. He was received
by the Chancellor, the second Duke of Ormond, and one of a family
which, as representing the high Tory aristocracy, held this office, as
if by hereditary right, for a period of ninety years. All the usual
ceremonies were observed; a select body of Doctors and Masters ‘rode
out in their gowns to meet the King’ a mile on the Woodstock road,
and a grand procession conducted him down the High Street to the east
gate of the schools, through which he passed directly to the theatre,
where a sumptuous banquet was prepared for him. Evelyn states that,
being coldly received, he declined the banquet and barely stayed an
hour; according to another report, in itself improbable, the fear of
poison deterred him from tasting the refreshments provided. However
this may be, he certainly never courted or acquired popularity at the
University, which henceforth became a hotbed of Jacobite disaffection
for at least two generations.
[Sidenote: Origin of Oxford Jacobitism. Visit of Queen Anne]
The exact source of this sentiment is somewhat difficult to ascertain,
but it was probably a survival of the Puritan Visitation, and was
doubtless connected with hearty respect for the Non-jurors, to
whose ranks, however, Oxford contributed fewer resident members
than Cambridge. But Oxford Churchmen assuredly cherished a genuine
hatred of the latitudinarian opinions attributed to William III.,
and afterwards patronised by Whig statesmen. Whatever may have been
its source, and whether it was in the nature of a settled conviction
or of an inveterate fashion, Jacobite partisanship was shared alike
by ‘dons’ and by undergraduates, it was the one important element in
the external history of the University under the first two Georges,
and, like Scotch Jacobitism, it retained a sort of poetical existence
up to a still later period. In their opposition to the Comprehension
Scheme promoted by the King, the University of Oxford was supported
by that of Cambridge, in which there long continued to be a strong
Jacobite minority, but which, by comparison with Oxford, soon came
to be regarded as a nursery of Whig principles. Still the commission
appointed to prepare a scheme of Comprehension included the names
of Aldrich, afterwards dean of Christchurch, who had succeeded the
Romanist Massey, and Jane, Regius Professor of divinity, who had been
converted from extreme Toryism by James II.’s aggression on Magdalen,
but was reconverted by William III.’s neglect of his claims to a
bishopric. The hopes of a Jacobite reaction, excited by the accession
of Queen Anne, found an enthusiastic echo in the University. On July
16, 1702, a grand ‘Philological Exercise’ was celebrated in the theatre
for the special purpose of honouring the new Queen. On August 26 of the
same year, Queen Anne herself visited Oxford, where a fierce struggle
for precedence at her reception took place between the University and
City, which afterwards showed more respect for the Stuart dynasty in
exile than when it was on the throne. Burnet complains bitterly of the
clerical Toryism and ecclesiastical bigotry which prevailed at Oxford
in 1704, accusing the University of ‘corrupting the principles’ of its
students. Hearne, the learned Oxford chronicler, writing on September
2, 1705, notices a thanksgiving sermon preached by a Mr. Evans, of St.
John’s, a clergyman of doubtful character, of which Dr. Lloyd, bishop
of Worcester, said that ‘he was very glad there was one even in Oxford
that would speak for King William.’ He adds, three days later, that
Evans had talked mightily of publishing this sermon, but that ‘there is
none in Oxford will print a thing so scandalously partial against the
Church of England.’
[Sidenote: Popularity of Sacheverell. Position of the Whig minority]
During the furious outbreak of High Church fanaticism, which rallied
the mass of English clergy and shattered the Whig ascendency at the
end of 1709, the gownsmen were active partisans of Dr. Sacheverell,
himself a graduate of Magdalen. The vice-chancellor came forward as
surety for him, Atterbury, the future dean of Christchurch, defended
him with great ability, and Oxford afterwards gave him an enthusiastic
reception. The House of Lords marked its sense of this disloyalty in
the following year by causing the famous University decree of 1683 to
be publicly burned, together with Sacheverell’s sermons. No sooner
did Queen Anne disavow her Whig advisers and place herself openly
under Tory influences, than Oxford, undeterred by this rebuke, paraded
its Toryism without disguise, and, had it retained its old place in
national politics, the Hanoverian succession would have encountered a
still more formidable opposition. But the Whig oligarchy again saved
the country. After four years of Tory policy, another crisis occurred,
the Tory ministry broke up, the great Whig lords forced their way
into the council chamber, the Hanoverian succession was secured, and
Queen Anne opportunely died. The accession of the Elector of Hanover
was received at Oxford with sullen disappointment, but the Heads of
Houses consulted their own interests by offering a reward of 100_l._ for
the discovery of an unknown person who had delivered at the mayor’s
house a letter protesting against the proclamation of George I. He was
proclaimed, nevertheless, at St. Mary’s, as well as at Carfax, but
the scantiness of the attendance and shabbiness of the procession was
remarked with satisfaction by the Tories. Baffled in their hopes of
support in the highest quarter, the Tory democracy of the University
took refuge in libels, disloyal toasts, and offensive lampoons. The
Whig gownsmen, few as they were, and mostly confined to New College,
Oriel, and Merton, had an influential protector in Gardiner, the
Warden of All Souls’, and vice-chancellor from 1712 to 1715, himself a
moderate Tory, but resolute in saving the University from the risk of
casting in its lot with the Pretender. They formed themselves into a
club, which they called the ‘Constitution Club,’ and to which no one
below the rank of B.A. was eligible. This club soon became the chief
object of Tory resentment, at last culminating in a riot which called
for the intervention of the government.
[Sidenote: Jacobite demonstrations. A troop of horse sent to Oxford]
On May 28, 1715, being the first anniversary of George I.’s birthday
since his accession, the Whig club had assembled to commemorate the
day at the King’s Head tavern. They were attacked by a Tory mob, and a
fray ensued, which broke out afresh on the following day, being the
Restoration-day. The Heads of Houses, and even the grand jury for the
county, sheltered the aggressors, and reserved all their rebukes for
the obnoxious club. The government naturally took a different view of
the case, and called for explanations. Feeling that matters, had gone
far enough, the University authorities took means to suppress Jacobite
demonstrations on June 10, the Pretender’s birthday; but they were
at no pains to conceal their real inclinations. On the impeachment
and resignation of Ormond, the University hastened to elect his
brother, the Earl of Arran, as his successor in the chancellorship,
and conferred the degree of D.C.L. on Sir Constantine Phipps, a Tory
of Tories, with special marks of honour, while its representatives
in Parliament were prominent leaders of the same party. At last the
patience of the government was exhausted. On the birthday of the
Prince of Wales there were no signs of rejoicing, and complaint of
this omission was made to the mayor by an officer in command of a
recruiting party then in Oxford. Another disturbance ensued, of which
conflicting accounts were sent to London, and the whole affair came
before the House of Lords in the course of a debate on the Mutiny
Bill. The University was ably represented, and a plausible defence was
offered on its behalf, but the verdict of the House was unfavourable.
In the meantime, an address to the Crown voted by the University on
the outbreak of the rebellion in Scotland had met with the reception
which its insincerity deserved, and the government determined to
employ decisive measures. A body of dragoons under Major-General
Pepper entered Oxford, martial law was at once proclaimed, and the
students were ordered to remain within their colleges on pain of being
marched off to military execution. After a few seizures had been made,
the dragoons were replaced by Colonel Handyside’s regiment of foot,
which continued to be quartered in Oxford for the express purpose of
overawing the University—no unnecessary measure when a rebellion of
unknown extent had been planned not only in Scotland and the north of
England but in the western counties. It was on this occasion that an
Oxford wit contrasted the King’s severe treatment of Oxford with his
munificent present of a library to Cambridge in lines which, together
with the Cambridge repartee, have become historical.
[Sidenote: The Constitution Club. Government scheme for reforming the
University]
On May 29 of the following year, while Colonel Handyside’s regiment
was still in Oxford, the Constitution Club was again the scene of a
political commotion, though of a less serious nature. Meadowcourt,
the steward of the club, having forced the junior proctor to drink
the King’s health, was suspended from his degree for the space of two
years; and it was further ordered that he should not be allowed to
supplicate for his grace ‘until he confesses his manifold crimes and
asks pardon upon his knees.’ In spite of the King’s Act of Grace, to
which he skilfully appealed, he was twice refused his M.A. degree. He
lived, however, to bring the disaffection of the University under the
notice of the government in 1719, when the vice-chancellor refused to
notice a disloyal sermon preached by Warton, though he was disappointed
to receive no more than a letter of thanks for his zeal. Other Whigs
endured similar persecutions; the Whig satirist, Amherst, was driven
out of St. John’s College, and social penalties were freely inflicted
on members of Merton, Exeter, Christchurch, and Wadham, then suspected
of being anti-Jacobite societies. The Constitution Club died out
before the end of George I.’s reign, and many academical Whigs became
so disheartened as to conceal their principles or even to affect
Toryism for the sake of preferment. Indeed, the avowed hostility of
Oxford and the doubtful fidelity of Cambridge to the reigning dynasty
were regarded with so much anxiety at Court that it was seriously
contemplated to introduce a Bill to suspend the constitution of
both Universities. The draught of this Bill empowered the ‘King to
nominate and appoint all and every the Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor,
Proctors, and other officers of the said Universities, and all Heads
of Houses, Fellows, Students, Chaplains, Scholars, and Exhibitioners,
and all members of and in all and every the College and Colleges,
Hall and Halls in the said Universities or either of them, upon all
and every vacancy and vacancies,’ &c. This provisional administration
was to last for seven years, and the project of it was approved by
fifteen bishops. Lord Macclesfield, the Lord Chancellor, had drawn
up a separate plan of reform with the same object of controlling the
University through government patronage. The election of Heads was to
be vested in the great officers of State, with the concurrence of the
Visitor and the bishop. The disposition of all other college emoluments
was to be placed in the hands of a commission. The fellowships were
to be limited to a term of twenty years, lest they should conduce to
idleness and self-indulgence. Professorships and minor fellowships
charged with educational duties were to be founded. The benefices of
the Crown and the nobility were to be conferred only on ‘well-affected
persons.’ Colleges in which ‘honest and loyal men’ predominate were to
be specially favoured in the distribution of Crown patronage, ‘till
the true interest in them was become superior to all opposition.’
Happily wiser counsels prevailed, and there is reason to believe that
Archbishop Wake was largely instrumental in averting the danger. He
knew that Oxford Tories could only be influenced through Tory leaders,
and discreetly used such mediation to keep the factious spirit of
the University within tolerable bounds, until the design against its
independence was abandoned. But George I. never deigned to visit
Oxford, being the first sovereign who had failed to do so since the
reign of Mary.
[Sidenote: Gradual decline of Jacobitism in Oxford during the reign of
George II.]
During the earlier years of Walpole’s administration the University
seems to have been comparatively free from political turmoil. Many of
the gownsmen, however, took part with the citizens in the disorderly
revels, lasting for three nights, which celebrated the withdrawal of
the Excise Bill, in 1733, when the healths of Ormond, Bolingbroke, and
James III. were publicly drunk round the bonfires. On the other hand,
in the following year the University accorded an enthusiastic reception
to the Prince of Orange, who came to marry the Princess Anne. The city
shared in these festivities, conferring its freedom upon the prince
at the north gate on his return from Blenheim, while bell-ringing,
illuminations, and bonfires were kept up for three nights together.
Still covert Jacobitism found expression in the University pulpit, and
John Wesley, desiring to guard himself against the imputation of it
when he preached before the University in 1734, got the vice-chancellor
to read and approve his sermon beforehand. Even after the suppression
of the rebellion in 1745 it was not extinct, and in 1748 the government
resorted to somewhat excessive severity against three students who
had toasted the Pretender, although the vice-chancellor and proctors,
apprehensive of the result, had issued a peremptory order declaring
their resolution to put down seditious practices. Further proceedings
were instituted against the vice-chancellor and the University itself,
but the motion was negatived by the Court. The government, however,
was not appeased. When the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle was proclaimed at
Oxford, the vice-chancellor, Heads of Houses, professors, and proctors
took care to participate in public rejoicings with the mayor and
corporation, but a congratulatory address from the University on this
event was rejected with disdain. The loyalty of the University was
still justly distrusted. In 1754 Dr. King, a notorious Jacobite, and
Principal of St. Mary Hall, elicited rounds of applause from the whole
audience in the theatre, filled with peers, members of Parliament, and
country gentlemen, by thrice pausing upon the word _Redeat_, purposely
introduced into his speech to gratify ‘the Old Interest.’ No wonder
that in the same year Pitt denounced Oxford Jacobitism in the House of
Commons; notwithstanding which, in the following year (1755), a Tory
and Jacobite mob, guarding the approaches to the polling-booths at the
county election for days together, prevented the Whigs from giving
their votes. Again, in 1759, Lord Westmoreland, who had been a zealous
Hanoverian, but had afterwards turned Jacobite out of resentment
against Sir Robert Walpole, was elected by the University as its
Chancellor. Yet the days of Oxford Jacobitism were already numbered; it
was well nigh dead as a creed, and it soon ceased to be a fashion. The
marvellous victories of the same year kindled genuine enthusiasm among
the gownsmen, and a most fulsome address was presented to George II. by
the Oxford Convocation, begging ‘leave to approach your sacred person
with hearts full of duty and affection,’ and applauding the measures
taken ‘for the support of the Protestant religion and the liberties of
Europe.’
[Sidenote: Revival of loyalty after the accession of George III. His
visits to Oxford]
With the accession of George III. Jacobitism disappeared or faded
into Toryism of the modern type. In its congratulatory address the
University took special credit to itself for having been ‘ever
faithful to monarchy on the most trying occasions.’ The King’s reply
was guarded, recommending ‘sound principles of religious and civil
duties early instilled into the minds of youth.’ His advice seems
to have been adopted; at all events, we hear no more of academical
Jacobitism, loyalty to George III. became fashionable, Dr. King himself
appeared at Court, and the University was probably sincere when, in
1763, it proposed inviolable ‘attachment to your Majesty’s person and
government.’ It may perhaps have been in recognition of this salutary
change in its attitude that in 1768 the Speaker of the House of Commons
paid it an elaborate compliment, in censuring the authorities of Oxford
City for a gross act of political corruption, specially recommending
for imitation the conduct of their learned neighbour. In the following
year, the University presented another address to the Crown deprecating
political agitation ‘under pretence of defending civil and religious
liberties,’ and assuring his Majesty of its determination to imbue its
students with sound principles. By a happy inconsistency, academical
loyalists now managed to reconcile their old worship of the king _de
jure_ with a hearty acceptance of the Hanoverian succession. Probably
Dr. Nowell, Principal of St. Mary Hall, fairly represented these
sentiments when he reasserted the doctrines of divine right and passive
obedience in a sermon preached before the House of Commons in 1772,
for which he was first thanked and then censured. It deserves notice,
however, that a more liberal spirit already made itself felt in regard
to religious toleration. Though Sir Roger Newdigate, on behalf of the
University, stoutly opposed the relief of clergymen from subscription
to the Thirty-nine Articles, a strong minority in the Oxford
Convocation supported, in February 1773, a proposal for requiring
from candidates for matriculation only a declaration of conformity
to the worship and liturgy of the Established Church. An attempt was
afterwards made to qualify the effect of subscription by appending to
the statute requiring it an explanatory note whereby it was virtually
reduced to a declaration of conformity, but the legal validity of such
an enactment was challenged, and the proposal was quietly dropped.
In March 1779, a petition was presented by the University, through
its chancellor, Lord North, against the Dissenters’ Toleration Bill,
then before Parliament. This petition embodied a protest against the
principle of allowing dissenting ministers and schoolmasters to preach
and teach without making any profession of belief in Christianity or
revelation, but the petitioners were careful to describe themselves
as friends of toleration, so far as it could be reconciled with the
interests of Christianity and the Established Church. These were the
sentiments of the King himself, and a crowning proof of its fidelity
to George III. was given by the University in 1783, when it publicly
thanked the King for dismissing the Coalition Ministry (including its
own Chancellor), and giving his confidence to Pitt—a service which the
king rewarded by visiting Oxford twice from Nuneham Park, in 1785 and
1786. On each occasion he received an enthusiastic welcome, but as it
was in the middle of the Long Vacation, he stayed but a few hours, and
the traditional solemnities of royal visits were not repeated. A like
enthusiasm was shown by the University on his recovery from his first
illness in 1788.