CHAPTER II

CAMBRIDGE IN THE NORMAN TIME

"At this time the fountain of learning in Cambridge was but little,

and that very troubled.... Mars then frighted away the Muses, when

the Mount of Parnassus was turned into a fort, and Helicon derived

into a trench. And at this present, King William the Conqueror,

going to subdue the monks of Ely that resisted him, made

Cambridgeshire the seat of war."--FULLER.

William I. at Cambridge Castle--Cambridge at the Domesday

Survey--Roger Picot the Sheriff--Pythagoras School--Castle and

Borough--S. Benet's Church and its Parish--The King's Ditch--The

Great and the Small Bridges--The King's and the Bishop's Mills--The

River Hithes--S. Peter by the Castle and S. Giles Church--The early

Streets of the City--The Augustinian Priory of Barnwell--The Round

Church of the Holy Sepulchre--The Cambridge Jewry--Debt of early

Scholars to the Philosophers of the Synagogue--Benjamin's

House--Municipal Freedom of the Borough.

On the site of the ancient Roman station of which we have spoken in the

preceding chapter, as guarding the river ford and the pass between

forest and fen into East Anglia, William the Conqueror, returning from

the conquest of York in the year 1068, founded Cambridge Castle, that

"it might be"--to quote Fuller's words--"a check-bit to curb this

country, which otherwise was so hard-mouthed to be ruled." Here, in the

following year, he took up his abode, making the castle the centre of

his operations against the rebel English who had rallied to the

leadership of Hereward the Wake, in his camp of refuge at Ely. But the

castle at Cambridge never became a military centre of importance. No

important deed of arms is recorded in connection with it. It was a mere

outpost, useful only as a base of operations. It was so used by William

the Conqueror. It was so used by Henry III. in his futile contest with

the English baronage. It was so used by the Duke of Northumberland in

his unsuccessful attempt to crush the loyalist rising of East Anglia

against his plot to place Lady Jane Grey on the throne. It was so used

by Oliver Cromwell when he was organising the Eastern Counties

Association, and forming "his lovely company" of Ironsides. But beyond

these episodes Cambridge Castle has no history. In the early part of the

fourteenth century it was used as a prison for common criminals. Edward

III. built his College of King's Hall with some of its materials, and

from that time onwards it appears to have been used as a quarry by the

royal founders of more than one college. Its last remaining outwork, the

Gate House, was demolished in 1842. Now there is nothing left but the

grass-grown mound, still known as Castle Hill, the resort of occasional

American tourists who are wise enough to know how fine a view of the

town may be obtained from that position, and, so it is said, a less

frequent place of pilgrimage also to certain university freshmen who are

foolish enough to accept the assurance of their fellows that "at the

witching hour of night" they may best observe from Castle Hill those

solemn portents which, on the doubtful authority of the University

Calendar, are said to happen when "the Cambridge term divides at

midnight."

But if the Castle at Cambridge, as a "place of arms," had practically no

history, much less had the town over which nominally it stood guard. The

old streets of Cambridge show no sign of ever having been packed closely

within walls in the usual mediæval fashion. In the early days the town

seems to have been limited to a little knot of houses round the castle

and along the street leading down to the river ford at the foot of the

Castle Hill. From the Domesday Survey we learn that in the time of

Edward the Confessor the town had consisted of 400 dwelling-houses, and

was divided into ten wards, each governed by its own lawman ("lageman")

or magistrate, a name which appears to suggest that the original

organisation of the town was of Danish origin. By the year 1086 two of

these wards had been thrown into one, owing to the destruction of

twenty-seven houses--"pro castro"--on account of the building of the

Castle, and in the remaining wards no fewer than fifty-three other

dwellings are entered as "waste." Altogether, in Norman times the

population of Cambridge can hardly have exceeded at the most a couple of

thousand. The customs of the town were assessed at £7, the land tax at

£7. 2s. 2d. Both of these seem to have been new impositions, payable to

the royal treasury. How this came about one cannot say, but from this

time onward, all through the middle ages, the farm of Cambridge appears

frequently to have been given as a dower to the Queen.

[Illustration: Courtyard of the Falcon Inn]

The earldom of Cambridge and Huntingdon has been almost invariably held

by a member of the Royal Family. The first steps, indeed, towards

municipal independence on the part of the borough were taken when the

burgesses demanded the privilege of making their customary payments

direct to the King, and ridding themselves of this part, at any rate, of

the authority of the sheriff. Certainly, there was much complaint made

to the Domesday Commissioners concerning the first Norman sheriff of

Cambridgeshire, one Roger Picot, because of his hard treatment of the

burgesses. Among other things, it was said that he had "required the

loan of their ploughs nine times in the year, whereas in the reign of

the Confessor they lent their ploughs only thrice in the year and found

neither cattle nor carts," and also that he had built himself three

mills upon the river to the destruction of many dwelling-houses and the

confiscation of much common pasture. Reading of these things one is

almost tempted to wonder, whether the old stone Norman house still

standing, styled, by a tradition now lost, "the School of Pythagoras,"

in close proximity as it is to the river, the ford, and the castle, may

not have been the residence of this sheriff or of one of his immediate

successors. The house cannot, certainly, be of a later date than the

latter part of the twelfth century. Originally, it appears to have

consisted of a single range of building of two storeys, the lower one

formerly vaulted, the upper one serving as a hall. How it came by its

present name of "Pythagoras School" we do not know, and certainly there

is no reason to suppose that it was at any time a school. The Norman

occupier, however, of this stone house, with his servants and retainers,

could hardly have been other than a leading personage in the community,

and must have contributed in no slight degree to its importance.

Possibly it may have been owing to the destruction of houses caused by

the clearing of the sites for both this mansion and for the Castle, that

the dispossessed population sought habitation for themselves on the low

lying ground across the ford, on the east bank of the river. Whether

this was the cause or not, certainly the town on the west bank--"the

borough," as the castle end of Cambridge was still called in the memory

of persons still living[7]--overflowed at an early period to the other

side of the river, and gradually extending itself along the line of the

Via Devana, eventually coalesced with what had before been a distinct

village clustering round the ancient pre-Norman church of S. Benedict.

This church, or rather its tower, is the oldest building in Cambridge

and one of the most interesting. It is thus described by Mr.

Atkinson.[8]

[Illustration: The School of Pythagoras.]

"The tower presents those features which are usually taken to

indicate a Saxon origin. It is divided into three well-marked

stages, each one of which is rather narrower than the one below it.

The quoins are of the well-known long-and-short work (a sign of

late date), and the lowest quoin is let into a sinking prepared for

it in the plinth. The belfry windows are of two sorts; the central

window on each face is of two heights, divided by a mid-wall

balister shaft, supporting a through-stone of the usual character.

On each side of this window there is a plain lancet at a somewhat

higher level, and with rubble jambs. Above these latter there are

small round holes--they can hardly be called windows. Over each of

the central windows there is a small pilaster, stopped by a corbel

which rests on the window head; these pilasters are cut off

abruptly at the top of the tower, which has probably been altered

since it was first built; most likely it was originally terminated

by a low spire or by gables. The rough edges of the quoins are

worked with a rebate to receive the plaster which originally

covered the tower. The arch between the tower and the nave springs

from bold imposts, above which are rude pieces of sculpture,

forming stops to the hood mould. The quoins remaining at each angle

of the present nave show that it is of the same length and width as

the nave of the original church, and they seem to show also that

the original church had neither aisles nor transepts. The chancel

is also the same size as that of the early church, for though the

east and north walls have been rebuilt, they are in the positions

of the Saxon walls. The south wall of the chancel has been altered

at many different periods, but has probably never been rebuilt. The

bases of the chancel arch remain below the floor. The early church

was probably lighted by small lancets about three inches wide,

placed high in the wall, and without glass."

The present nave is of the thirteenth century. The chancel was built as

late as 1872. The building which still abuts against the south chancel

wall belongs, however, to the fifteenth century, and was a connecting

hall or gallery with "the old court" of Corpus Christi College, which

not only took its early name of S. Benet from the ancient church, but

for some century and more possessed no other College chapel. The bells

of S. Benet, we read in the old College records, were long used to call

the students "to ye schooles, att such times as neede did require--as to

acts, clearums, congregations, lecturs, disses, and such like." But this

belongs to its story in a later age. The Pre-Conquest Church of S.

Benet, as we have said, probably served a township separate and distinct

from the Castle-end "borough" on the west bank of the river. After the

two villages became united, the Norman Grantebrigge, and indeed the

mediæval Cambridge of later days, seemed to have formed a straggling and

incompact town, stretching for the most part along the Roman road which

crossed the river by the bridge at the foot of Castle hill, and so

eastward past S. Benet's, and onward to the open country, eventually

reached Colchester across the forest uplands. This Roman Way, following

the line of the modern Bridge Street, Sidney Street, S. Andrew Street,

Regent Street, ran close to the eastern limit of the town, marked

roughly at a later time by the King's Ditch. This was an artificial

stream constructed as a defence of the town by King John in the year

1215. It was strengthened later by King Henry III., who had also

intended to protect the town on this side by a wall. The wall, however,

was never built, and the Ditch itself could never have been much of a

defence, except, perhaps, against casual marauders, though for centuries

it was a cause of insanitary trouble to the town. Branching out of the

river at the King's and Bishop's Mills, just above Queen's College, it

joined the river again, after encircling the town, just below the Great

Bridge and above the Common now called Jesus Green. The Ditch was

crossed by bridges on the lines of the principal roads. One of these,

built of stone, still remains under the road now called Jesus Lane.

There appears to have been a drawbridge also at the end of Sussex

Street. The river itself, which formed the western boundary of the town,

was spanned by two bridges, the Great Bridge at Castle End and the Small

Bridge or Bridges at Newnham by the Mill pond. Between the two bridges

were the principal wharfs or river hithes--corn hithe, flax hithe,

garlic hithe, salt hithe, Dame Nichol's hithe. These have all now given

place to the sloping lawns and gardens of the colleges, the far-famed

"Cambridge Backs." The common hithe, however, below the Great Bridge

still continues in use. It is with certain rights in regard to these

hithes that the earliest Royal charter of which we have record deals. It

is an undated writ of Henry I. (1100-1135) addressed to Henry, Bishop of

Ely (1109-1131), and attested by an unnamed Chancellor and by Miles of

Gloucester and by Richard Basset. The main object of the King's writ

seems to be to make "his borough of Cambridge" the one "port" and

emporium of the shire. "I forbid"--so runs the writ--"that any boat

shall ply at any hithe in Cambridgeshire save at the hithe of my borough

at Cambridge, nor shall barges be laden save in the borough of

Cambridge, nor shall any take toll elsewhere, but only there."

Numerous narrow lanes, all now vanished, with the exception of John's

Lane, Gareth Hostel Lane, and Silver Street, led down from High Street

to the quays. The town was intersected by three main streets. From the

Great Bridge ran the streets already mentioned as following the line of

the old Roman Way (the Via Devana). From this old roadway, at a point

opposite the Round Church, there branched off the High Street--now

Trinity Street and King's Parade--leading to Trumpington Gate. Parallel

to the High Street, and between it and the river, ran Milne Street,

leading from the King's Mill at the south end of the town, and

continuing northwards to a point about the site of the existing sun-dial

in Trinity Great Court, where it joined a cross-street leading into the

High Street. Parts of Milne Street still exist in the lanes which run

past the fronts of Queen's College and Trinity Hall. In mediæval times

the entrance gateways of six colleges opened into it--King's Hall,

Michael House, Trinity Hall, King's College, S. Catharine's Hall, and

Queen's College. Of the most ancient church of the town, that of S.

Benedict, we have already spoken. Of the possibly contemporary church of

S. Peter by the Castle, the only architectural remains of any importance

now existing are a rich late Norman doorway and the bowl of an ancient

font. The tower and spire belong to the fourteenth century. The rest of

the building is entirely modern. Bricks, however, said to be Roman,

appear to have been used in the new walls. Similarly of the other two

ancient Castle-end churches, All Saints by the Castle, and S. Giles. Of

the former nothing now remains and its actual site is doubtful, for the

parish attached to it has been united with S. Giles ever since the time

when in the fourteenth century the Black Death left it almost without

inhabitants. Of the Church of S. Giles there remains the ancient

chancel arch of late Saxon or early Norman character (the familiar

long-and-short work seems to date it about the middle of the eleventh

century), and the doorway of the nave, which have been rebuilt in the

large new church opened in 1875.

[Illustration: The Abbey House]

It was, however, from this old church of S. Giles by the Castle that the

first religious house in Cambridge of which we have any record, and

quite possibly the most important factor in the early development of the

University, the wealthy Augustinian Priory of Barnwell, took its origin.

The story of that foundation is this.[9]

Roger Picot, Baron of Bourne and Norman Sheriff of Cambridgeshire, of

whose hard treatment the Cambridge burgesses complained to the

commissioners of the Domesday Survey, had married a noble and pious

woman named Hugoline. Hugoline being taken very ill at Cambridge, and on

the point, as she thought, of death, vowed a vow, that if she recovered

she would build a church in honour of God and S. Giles. "Whereupon,"

says the legend, "she recovered in three days." And in gratitude to God

she built close to the Castle the Church of S. Giles in the year 1092,

together with appropriate buildings, and placed therein six canons

regular of the order of S. Augustine, under the charge of Canon Geoffrey

of Huntingdon, a man of great piety, and prevailed upon her husband to

endow the Church and house with half the tithes of his manorial

demesnes. Some vestiges of this small house (_veteris coenobioli

vestigia_) were still extant in Leland's time. Before, however, this

Augustinian house had been thoroughly established, Earl Pigot and his

wife Hugoline died, committing the foundation to the care of their son

Robert. Robert unfortunately became implicated in a conspiracy against

Henry I., was charged with treason, and obliged to fly the country. The

estates were confiscated, and the canons reduced to great want and

misery. In this extremity a certain Pain Peverel, a valiant young

Crusader, who had been standard-bearer to Robert Curthose in the Holy

Land, and who had received the confiscated estates of Picot's son,

Robert, came to the rescue, declaring that as he had become Picot's

heir, so he would succeed him in the care of this foundation, and

increase the number of canons to the number of the years of his own age,

namely thirty. He determined also to move the house to a more

convenient situation, and accordingly, in the year 1112, he transferred

it to an excellent site in Barnwell, a mile and a half or so down the

river, just off the high-road leading from Cambridge to Newmarket. This

transaction is related as follows:--

"Perceiving that the site on which their house stood was not

sufficiently large for all the buildings needful for his canons,

and was devoid of any spring of fresh water, Pain Peverel besought

King Henry to give him a certain site beyond the borough of

Cambridge, extending from the highway to the river, and

sufficiently agreeable from the pleasantness of its position.

Besides, from the midst of that site there bubbled forth springs of

clear fresh water, called at that time in English _Barnewelle_, the

children's springs, because once a year, on St. John Baptist's Eve,

boys and lads met there and amused themselves in the English

fashion with wrestling matches and other games, and applauded each

other in singing songs and playing on musical instruments. Hence by

reason of the crowd of boys and girls who met and played there, a

habit grew up that on the same day a crowd of buyers and sellers

should meet in the same place to do business. There, too, a man of

great sanctity, called Godesone, used to lead a solitary life in a

small wooden oratory that he had built in honour of St. Andrew. He

had died a short time before, leaving the place without any

habitation upon it, and his oratory without a keeper."[10]

In this pleasant place accordingly the house was rebuilt on a very large

scale, and by the liberality of Peverel and his son William richly

endowed. In the year 1112, we read in the Cartulary that Peverel at once

set about building "a church of wonderful beauty and massive work in

honour of S. Giles." To this church he gave "vestment, ornaments, and

relics of undoubted authenticity which he had brought back from

Palestine"; but before he could carry out his intention of completing

it, he died in London of a fever "barely ten years after the translation

of the canons. His body was brought to Barnwell and buried in a becoming

manner on the north side of the high altar." By the munificence,

however, of a later benefactor, the church was finished and consecrated

in 1191, and before the end of the next century the conventual

buildings, cloister, chapter house, frater, farmery, guest hall, gate

house, were complete, and the Priory of Augustinian canons at Barnwell

took its place in the monastic history of Cambridgeshire, a place only

second probably to that of the great Benedictine House at Ely.[11] All

that now remains of the Priory is a small church or chapel standing near

the road, and the fragment of some other building. The whole site,

however, was excavated for gravel in the beginning of the last century,

so that it is impossible to speak with any certainty of the disposition

of the buildings, although Mr. Willis Clark, in his "Customs of

Augustinian Canons," has from documentary sources made an ingenious

attempt to reconstruct the whole plan of the Priory. The small chapel of

S. Andrew the Less, although it has long been known as the Abbey Church,

has, of course, strictly no right to that name. Obviously it cannot be

the church of "wondrous dimensions" built by Pain Peverel. The chapel,

although in all likelihood it did stand within the Priory precincts, was

most probably built for the use of the inhabitants of the parish by the

canons, in order that they themselves might be left undisturbed in the

exclusive use of the Conventual Church. It is a building of the early

English style, with long, narrow lancet windows, evidently belonging to

the early part of the thirteenth century.

[Illustration: Chapel Barnwell Priory]

The material remains of the Priory are therefore very meagre, but a most

interesting insight into the domestic economy of a monastic house is

afforded by the "_Consuetudinarium_; or, Book of Observances of the

Austin Canons," which forms the Eighth Book of the Barnwell Cartulary,

to which we have already alluded. A comparison of the domestic customs

of a monastic house in the thirteenth century, as shown in this book,

and of the functions of its various officers, with many of the

corresponding customs and functions in the government of a Cambridge

college, not only in mediæval but in modern times, throws much light on

the origin of some of the most characteristic features of college life

to-day.[12]

Let us retrace our steps, however, along the Barnwell Road from the

suburban monastery to the ancient town. There are still some features,

belonging to the Norman structure of Cambridge, which demand our notice

before we pass on.

At a point where the High Street, now Trinity Street, branches off from

Bridge Street stands the church of the Holy Sepulchre, one of the four

round churches of England.[13]

[Illustration: The Round Church]

Presumably it must have been built by some confraternity connected with

the newly established Military Order of the Templars, and, to judge by

the style of its architecture--the only real evidence we have as to its

date, for the conjecture that it owes its foundation to the young

crusader, Pain Peverel, is purely fanciful, and of "the Ralph with a

Beard," of which we read in the Ramsey cartularies as receiving "a grant

of land to build a Minster in honour of God and the Holy Sepulchre," we

know nothing--probably between 1120 and 1140. In its original shape, the

church must have consisted of its present circular nave with the

ambulatory aisle, and in all probability a semi-circular eastern apse.

The ambulatory was vaulted, as in all probability was also the central

area, while the apse would doubtless be covered with a semi-dome. The

chancel and its north aisle, which had apparently been remodelled in

early English times, was again reconstructed in the fifteenth century.

At about the same time an important alteration was made in the circular

nave by carrying up the walls to form a belfry. The additional stage was

polygonal and terminated in a battlemented parapet. The Norman corbel

table, under the original eaves of what was probably a dwarf spire, was

not destroyed, and thus serves to mark the top of the Norman wall.

Windows of three lights were not only inserted in the additional stage,

but were also substituted for the circular-headed Norman windows of both

ambulatory and clerestory.

"Such," says Mr. Atkinson, "was the condition of the Church when,

in 1841, the Cambridge Camden Society undertook its 'restoration.'

The polygonal upper story of the circular nave, containing four

bells, was destroyed; sham Norman windows, copied from one

remaining old one, replaced those which had been inserted in the

15th century; and new stone vaults and high pitched roofs were

constructed over the nave and ambulatory. The chancel, with the

exception of one arch and the wall above it, were entirely rebuilt;

the north aisle, with the exception of the entrance arch from the

west, was rebuilt and extended eastwards to the same length as the

chancel; a new south aisle of equal dimensions with the enlarged

north aisle was added; and a small turret for two bells was built

at the north-west corner of the north aisle; the lower stage of

this turret was considered a sufficient substitute for the

destroyed vestry. A new chancel arch of less width than the old one

was built, and a pierced stone screen was formed above it. In

addition to all this, those old parts which were not destroyed were

'repaired and beautified,' or 'dressed and pointed,' or 'thoroughly

restored.' What these processes involved is clear from an

inspection of the parts to which they were applied; in the west

doorway, for instance, there is not one old stone left."[14]

Across the road from the Round Church, in the angle of land caused by

the branching apart of the High Street and the Bridge Street, was

planted one of the earliest Jewries established in England. The coming

of the Jews to England was one of the incidental effects of the Norman

Conquest. They had followed in the wake of the invading army as in

modern times they followed the German hosts into France, assisting the

Normans to dispose of their spoil, finding at usurious interest

ready-money for the impoverished English landowner, to meet his

conqueror's requisitions, and generally meeting the money-broking needs

of both King and subject. In a curious diatribe by Richard of Devizes

(1190), Canterbury, Rochester, Chichester, Oxford, Exeter, Worcester,

Chester, Hereford, York, Ely, Durham, Norwich, Lincoln, Bristol,

Winchester, and of course London are all mentioned as harbouring Jewish

settlements. The position of the Jew, however, in England was all along

anomalous. As the member of an alien race, and still more of an alien

religion, he could gain no kind of constitutional status in the kingdom.

The common law ignored him. His Jewry, like the royal forest, was

outside its domain. He came, indeed, as the King's special man--nay,

more, as the King's special chattel. And in this character he lived for

the most part secure. The romantic picture of the despised, trembling

Jew--the Isaac of York, depicted for us in Scott's "Ivanhoe"--cringing

before every Christian that he meets, is, in any age of English history,

simply a romantic picture. The attitude of the Jew almost to the last is

one of proud and even insolent defiance. In the days of the Red King at

any rate, he stood erect before the prince, and seemed to have enjoyed

no small share of his favour and personal familiarity. The presence of

the unbelieving Hebrew at his court supplied, it is said, William Rufus

with many opportunities of mocking at the Christian Church and its

bishops. In a well-known story of Eadmer, the Red King actually forbids

the conversion of a Jew to the Christian faith. "It was a poor

exchange," he said, "which would rob me of a valuable property and give

me only a subject." The extortion of the Jew was therefore sheltered

from the common law by the protection of the King. The bonds of the Jew

were kept, in fact, under the royal seal in the royal archives, a fact

of which the memory long remained in the name of "The Star" chamber; a

name derived from the Hebrew word (_ishtar_) for a "bond."

[Illustration: Oriel Windows from House in Petty-Cury now demolished _To

face p. 46_]

The late Mr. J. R. Green, in a delightful sketch on the early history of

Oxford in his "Stray Studies," afterwards incorporated into the pages of

his "History of the English People," seems inclined to give some support

to the theory which would connect the origin of the University with the

establishment of the Oxford Jewry. This theory, however, can hardly be

accepted.[15] It is very probable indeed that the medical school, which

we find established at Oxford and in high repute during the twelfth

century, is traceable to Jewish origin; and the story is no doubt true

also, which tells how Roger Bacon penetrated to the older world of

material research by means of the Hebrew instruction and the Hebrew

books which he found among the Jewish rabbis of the Oxford Synagogue. It

is reasonable also to suppose that the history of Christian

Aristotelianism, and of the Scholastic Theology that was based upon it,

may have been largely influenced by the philosophers of the Synagogue.

It seems, indeed, to be a well-established conclusion, that the

philosophy of Aristotle was first made known to the West through the

Arabic versions brought from Spain by Jewish scholars and rabbis. But

it is undoubtedly "in a more purely material way" that, as Mr. Green

truly says, the Jewry most directly influenced academic history. At

Oxford, as elsewhere, "the Jew brought with him something more than the

art or science which he had gathered at Cordova or Bagdad; he brought

with him the new power of wealth. The erection of stately castles, of

yet statelier abbeys, which followed the Conquest, the rebuilding of

almost every cathedral or conventual church, marks the advent of the

Jewish capitalist. No one can study the earlier history of our great

monastic houses without finding the secret of that sudden outburst of

industrial activity to which we own the noblest of our Minsters in the

loans of the Jew."

Certainly at Cambridge, though perhaps hardly to the same extent as at

Oxford, the material influence on the town of the Jewry is traceable. At

Oxford, it is said that nearly all the larger dwelling-houses, which

were subsequently converted into hostels, bore traces of their Jewish

origin in their names, such as Moysey's Hall, Lombard's Hall, Jacob's

Hall, and each of the successive Town Halls of the borough had

previously been Jewish houses. We have some evidence of a similar

conversion at Cambridge. In the first half of the thirteenth century,

before we hear either of Tolbooth or of Guildhall, the enlarged judicial

responsibilities of the town authorities made it necessary that they

should be in possession of some strong building suitable for a prison.

Accordingly, in 1224, we find King Henry III. granting to the burgesses

the House of Benjamin, the Jew, for the purposes of a gaol. It is said

that either the next house or a part of Benjamin's House had been the

Synagogue of the Jewry, and was granted in the first instance to the

Franciscan Friars on their arrival in the city. Benjamin's House,

although it had been altered from time to time, appears never to have

been entirely rebuilt, and some fragments of this, the earliest of

Cambridge municipal buildings, are perhaps still to be found embedded in

the walls of the old Town Arms public-house--a room in which, as late as

the seventeenth century, was still known as "The Star Chamber"--at the

western side of Butter Row, in the block of old buildings at the corner

of Market Square, adjoining the new frontage of the Guildhall.

With this relic of the ancient Jewry we reach the last remaining

building in Cambridge that had any existence in Norman times. And with

the close of this age--the age of the Crusades--we already find the

Cambridge burgess safely in possession, not only of that personal

freedom which had descended to him by traditional usage from the

communal customs of his early Teutonic forefathers, but also of many

privileges which he had bought in hard cash from his Norman conqueror.

Before the time of the first charter of King John (1201) Cambridge had

passed through most of the earlier steps of emancipation which

eventually led to complete self-government. The town-bell ringing out

from the old tower of S. Benet's already summoned the Cambridge freemen

to a borough mote in which the principles of civic justice, of loyal

association, of mutual counsel, of mutual aid, were acknowledged by

every member of a free, self-ruling assembly.

Cambridge and Its Story · 第 2 / 12 章