"Where yearly in that vernal hour
The sacred city is in shades reclining,
With gilded turrets in the sunrise shining:
From sainted Magdalene's aerial tower
Sounds far aloof that ancient chant are singing,
And round the heart again those solemn memories bringing."
ISAAC WILLIAMS.
Macaulay was too good a Cambridge man to appreciate an Oxford college
at its full worth; but he devotes one of his finest purple patches to
the praise of Magdalen, ending, as is fitting, "with the spacious
gardens along the river side," which, by the way, are not "gardens."
Antony Wood praises Magdalen as "the most noble and rich structure in
the learned world," with its water walks as "delectable as the banks
of Eurotas, where Apollo himself was wont to walk." To go a century
further back, the Elizabethan, Sir John Davies, wrote:
"O honeyed Magdalen, sweete, past compare
Of all the blissful heavens on earth that are."
Such praises could be multiplied indefinitely, and they are all
deserved.
The good genius of Magdalen has been faithful to it throughout. The
old picturesque buildings on the High Street, taken over (1457) by
the Founder, William of Waynflete, from the already existing hospital
of St. John, were completed by his munificence in the most attractive
style of English fifteenth century domestic architecture; Chapel and
Hall, Cloisters and Founder's Tower, all alike are among the most
beautiful in Oxford. When classical taste prevailed, the
architectural purists of the eighteenth century were for sweeping
almost all this away, and had a plan prepared for making a great
classic quad; but wiser counsels, or lack of funds, thwarted this
vandalistic design, and only the north side of the new quad was
built, to give Magdalen a splendid specimen of eighteenth century
work, without prejudice to the old. And in our own day, the genius of
Bodley has raised in St. Swithun's Quad a building worthy of the best
days of Oxford, while the hideous plaster roof, with which the
mischievous Wyatt had marred the beauty of the hall, was removed, and
a seemly oak roof put in its place. It is a great thing to be
thankful for, that one set of college buildings in Oxford, though
belonging to so many periods, has nothing that is not of the best.
But the great glory of Magdalen has not yet been mentioned. This is,
without doubt, its bell tower, which, standing just above the River
Cherwell, is worthily seen, whether from near or far. A most curious
and interesting custom is preserved in connection with it. Every May
morning, at five o'clock (in Antony Wood's time the ceremony was an
hour earlier), the choir mounts the tower and sings a hymn, which is
part of the college grace; in the eighteenth century, however, the
music was of a secular nature and lasted two hours. The ceremony has
been made the subject of a great picture by Holman Hunt, and has been
celebrated in many poems; the sonnet of Sir Herbert Warren, the
present President, may be quoted as worthily expressing something of
what has been felt by many generations of Magdalen men:
"Morn of the year, of day and May the prime,
How fitly do we scale the steep dark stair,
Into the brightness of the matin air,
To praise with chanted hymn and echoing chime,
Dear Lord of Light, thy sublime,
That stooped erewhile our life's frail weeds to wear!
Sun, cloud and hill, all things thou fam'st so fair,
With us are glad and gay, greeting the time.
The College of the Lily leaves her sleep,
The grey tower rocks and trembles into sound,
Dawn-smitten Memnon of a happier hour;
Through faint-hued fields the silver waters creep:
Day grows, birds pipe, and robed anew and crowned,
Green Spring trips forth to set the world aflower."
The tower was put to a far different use when, in the Civil War, it
was the fortress against an attack from the east, and stones were
piled on its top to overwhelm any invader who might force the bridge.
Tradition connects this tower with the name of Magdalen's greatest
son, Thomas Wolsey, who took his B.A. about 1486, at the age of
fifteen, as he himself in his old age proudly told his servant and
biographer, Cavendish. Certainty he was first Junior and then Senior
Bursar for a time, while the tower was building, 1492-1504. But the
scandal that he had to resign his bursarship for misappropriation of
funds in connection with the tower may certainly be rejected.
On the right of Magdalen Bridge, looking at the tower, as we see it
in the picture, stretches Magdalen Meadow, round which run the famous
water walks. The part of these on the north-west side is especially
connected with Joseph Addison, who was a fellow at Magdalen from 1697
to 1711. He was elected "demy" (at Magdalen, scholars bear this name)
the first year (1689) after the Revolution, when the fellows of
Magdalen had been restored to their rights, so outrageously invaded
by King James. This "golden" election was famous in Magdalen annals,
at once for the number elected--seventeen--and for the fame of some
of those elected. Besides the greatest of English essayists, there
were among the new "demies," a future archbishop, a future bishop,
and the high Tory, Henry Sacheverell, whose fiery but unbalanced
eloquence overthrew the great Whig Ministry, which had been the
patron of his college contemporary.
Magdalen Meadow preserves still the well-beloved Oxford fritillaries,
which are in danger of being extirpated in the fields below Iffley by
the crowds who gather them to sell in the Oxford market.
Of the part of the College on the High Street, the most interesting
portion is the old stone pulpit (shown in Plate XIV). The connection
of this with the old Hospital of St. John is still marked by the
custom of having the University sermon here on St. John the Baptist's
Day; this was the invariable rule till the eighteenth century, and
the pulpit (Hearne says) was "all beset with boughs, by way of
allusion to St. John Baptist's preaching in the wilderness." Even as
early as Heame's time, however, a wet morning drove preacher and
audience into the chapel, and open-air sermons were soon given up
altogether, only to be revived (weather permitting) in our own day.
The chapel lies to the left of the pulpit, and is known all the
world over for its music; there are three famous choirs in Oxford--
those of the Cathedral, of New College, and of Magdalen, and to the
last, as a rule, the palm is assigned. It is to Oxford what the choir
of King's is to Cambridge; but the chapel of Magdalen has not
"The high embowed roof
With antique pillars massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light"
of the "Royal Saint's" great chapel at Cambridge.