CHAPTER I

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OXFORD

AND ITS STORY

[Illustration: OXFORD CASTLE (_Photogravure_)]

OXFORD

AND ITS STORY

BY

CECIL HEADLAM, M.A.

AUTHOR OF "NUREMBERG," "CHARTRES,"

ETC. ETC.

[Illustration]

WITH TWENTY-FOUR LITHOGRAPHS

AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS BY

HERBERT RAILTON

THE LITHOGRAPHS BEING

TINTED BY

FANNY RAILTON

1912

LONDON

J. M. DENT & SONS, LTD.

NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.

_First Edition_, 1904

_Second and Cheaper Edition_, 1912

_All rights reserved_

ALMAE MATRI

FILIUS INDIGNUS HAUD INGRATUS

PREFACE

The Story of Oxford touches the History of England, social and

political, mental and architectural, at so many points, that it is

impossible to deal with it fully even in so large a volume as the

present.

Even as it is, I have been unavoidably compelled to save space by

omitting much that I had written and practically all my references and

acknowledgments. Yet, where one has gathered so much honey from other

men's flowers not to acknowledge the debt in detail appears discourteous

and ungrateful; and not to give chapter and verse jars also upon the

historical conscience. I can only say that, very gratefully, _J'ai pris

mon bien où je l'ai trouvé_, whether in the forty odd volumes of the

Oxford Historical Society, the twenty volumes of the College Histories,

the accurate and erudite monographs of Dr Rashdall ("Mediæval

Universities") and Sir Henry Maxwell Lyte ("History of the University of

Oxford to the year 1530") or innumerable other works. Where so much has

been so well done by others in the way of dealing with periods and

sections of my whole subject, my chief business has been to read, mark,

digest, and then to arrange my story. But to do that thoroughly has been

no light task. Whether it be well done or ill-done, the story now told

has the great merit of providing an occasion, excuse was never needed,

for the display of Mr Herbert Railton's art.

CONTENTS

.....PAGE

PREFACE.....vii

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.....xi

CHAPTER I

ST FRIDESWIDE AND THE CATHEDRAL.....1

CHAPTER II

THE MOUND, THE CASTLE AND SOME CHURCHES.....22

CHAPTER III

THE ORIGIN OF THE UNIVERSITY.....61

CHAPTER IV

THE COMING OF THE FRIARS.....93

CHAPTER V

THE MEDIÆVAL STUDENT.....148

CHAPTER VI

OXFORD AND THE REFORMATION.....240

CHAPTER VII

THE OXFORD MARTYRS.....276

CHAPTER VIII

ELIZABETH, BODLEY AND LAUD.....291

CHAPTER IX

THE ROYALIST CAPITAL.....312

CHAPTER X

JACOBITE OXFORD--AND AFTER.....349

INDEX.....357

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

OXFORD CASTLE (_Photogravure_)..... _Frontispiece_

_TINTED LITHOGRAPHS_

MAGDALEN TOWER FROM THE WATER WALKS....._Facing page...4_

CHRIST CHURCH....."...20

CORNMARKET STREET....."...26

ENTRANCE FRONT, PEMBROKE COLLEGE....."...46

ARCHWAY AND TURRET, MERTON COLLEGE....."...62

UNIVERSITY COLLEGE....."...78

GARDEN FRONT, S. JOHN'S COLLEGE....."...90

WADHAM COLLEGE, FROM THE GARDENS....."...104

ORIEL COLLEGE AND MERTON TOWER....."...122

BALLIOL COLLEGE....."...130

S. MARY'S PORCH....."...148

S. ALBAN HALL, MERTON COLLEGE....."...174

QUADRANGLE, BRASENOSE COLLEGE....."...202

BELL TOWER AND CLOISTERS, NEW COLLEGE....."...220

THE FOUNDER'S TOWER, MAGDALEN COLLEGE....."...230

FRONT QUADRANGLE, CORPUS CHRISTI COLLEGE....."...250

CLOISTERS, CHRIST CHURCH....."...262

GRAMMAR HALL, MAGDALEN COLLEGE....."...274

PRESIDENT'S LODGE, TRINITY COLLEGE....."...286

QUADRANGLE, JESUS COLLEGE....."...294

THE GARDENS, EXETER COLLEGE....."...302

ORIEL WINDOW, S. JOHN'S COLLEGE....."...308

THE CLOISTERS, NEW COLLEGE....."...330

QUADRANGLE AND LIBRARY, ALL SOULS' COLLEGE....."...340

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

_BLACK AND WHITE ILLUSTRATIONS_

.....PAGE

OXFORD CATHEDRAL (INTERIOR)....._Facing 8_

OXFORD CATHEDRAL (EXTERIOR).....13

HALL STAIRWAY, CHRIST CHURCH.....17

ABINGDON ABBEY.....24

THE BASTION AND RAMPARTS IN NEW COLLEGE....._Facing 30_

CITY WALLS.....31

CHAPEL OF OUR LADY.....32

BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF OXFORD (1578)....._Facing 32_

OXFORD CASTLE.....35

S. PETER'S IN THE EAST....._Facing 42_

THE "BISHOP'S PALACE," S. ALDATE'S.....50

THE RADCLIFFE LIBRARY, FROM BRASENOSE COLLEGE.....85

GABLES IN WORCESTER COLLEGE.....103

GATEWAY, WORCESTER GARDENS.....106

ORIEL COLLEGE....._Facing 108_

DOORWAY, REWLEY ABBEY.....109

OLD GATEWAY, MERTON COLLEGE.....117

MONASTIC BUILDINGS, WORCESTER COLLEGE.....127

ORIEL WINDOW, LINCOLN COLLEGE.....147

THE HIGH STREET.....151

S. MARY'S SPIRE FROM GROVE LANE.....155

GABLES AND TOWER, MAGDALEN COLLEGE.....195

OPEN AIR PULPIT, MAGDALEN COLLEGE.....199

MAGDALEN COLLEGE....._Facing 210_

IN NEW COLLEGE.....223

KEMP HALL....._Facing 228_

MAGDALEN BRIDGE AND TOWER.....233

NICHE AND SUNDIAL, CORPUS CHRISTI COLLEGE.....248

SOUTH VIEW OF BOCARDO.....281

CHAPEL IN JESUS.....298

COOKS BUILDINGS, S. JOHN'S....._Facing 300_

FROM THE HIGH STREET.....314

COURTYARD TO PALACE....._Facing 320_

VIEW FROM THE SHELDONIAN THEATRE.....337

ORIEL WINDOW, QUEEN'S LANE.....342

OXFORD & ITS STORY

CHAPTER I

S. FRIDESWIDE AND THE CATHEDRAL

"He that hath Oxford seen, for beauty, grace

And healthiness, ne'er saw a better place.

If God Himself on earth abode would make

He Oxford, sure, would for His dwelling take."

DAN ROGERS,

_Clerk to the Council of Queen Elizabeth_.

"Vetera majestas quædam et (ut sic dixerim) religio commendat."

QUINTILIAN.

It is with cities as with men. The manner of our meeting some men, and

the moment, impress them upon our minds beyond the ordinary. And the

chance of our approach to a city is full also of significance. London

approached by the Thames on an ocean-going steamer is resonant of the

romance of commerce, and the smoke-haze from her factories hangs about

her like folds of the imperial purple. But approach her by rail and it

is a tale of mean streets that you read, a tale made yet more sad by the

sight of the pale, drawn faces of her street-bred people. Calcutta is

the London of the East, but Venice, whether you view her first from the

sea, enthroned on the Adriatic, or step at dawn from the train into the

silent gondola, is always different yet ever the same, the Enchanted

City, Queen of the Seas. And many other ports there are which live in

the memory by virtue of the beauty of the approach to them: Lisbon, with

the scar of her earthquake across her face, looking upon the full broad

tide of the Tagus, from the vantage ground of her seven hills; Cadiz,

lying in the sea like a silver cup embossed with a thousand watch

towers; Naples, the Siren City; Sidney and Constantinople; Hong-Kong

and, above all, Rio de Janeiro. But among inland towns I know none that

can surpass Oxford in the beauty of its approach.

Beautiful as youth and venerable as age, she lies in a purple cup of the

low hills, and the water-meads of Isis and the gentle slopes beyond are

besprent with her grey "steeple towers, and spires whose silent finger

points to heaven." And all around her the country is a harmony in

green--the deep, cool greens of the lush grass, the green of famous

woods, the soft, juicy landscapes of the Thames Valley.

You may approach Oxford in summer by road, or rail, or river. Most wise

and most fortunate perhaps is he who can obtain his first view of Oxford

from Headington Hill, her Fiesole. From Headington has been quarried

much of the stone of which the buildings of Oxford, and especially her

colleges, have been constructed.

Oxford owes much of her beauty to the humidity of the atmosphere, for

the Thames Valley is generally humid, and when the floods are out, and

that is not seldom, Oxford rises from the flooded meadows like some

superb Venice of the North, centred in a vast lagoon. And just as the

beauty of Venice is the beauty of coloured marbles blending with the

ever-changing colour of water and water-laden air, so, to a large

extent, the beauty of Oxford is due to this soft stone of Headington,

which blends with the soft humid atmosphere in ever fresh and tender

harmonies, in ever-changing tones of purple and grey. By virtue of its

fortunate softness this stone ages with remarkable rapidity, flakes off

and grows discoloured, and soon lends to quite new buildings a deceptive

but charming appearance of antiquity.

Arriving, then, at the top of Headington Hill, let the traveller turn

aside, and, pausing awhile by "Joe Pullen's" tree, gaze down at the

beautiful city which lies at his feet. Her sombre domes, her dreaming

spires rise above the tinted haze, which hangs about her like a delicate

drapery and hides from the traveller's gaze the grey walls and purple

shadows, the groves and cloisters of Academe. For a moment he will

summon up remembrance of things past; he will fancy that so, and from

this spot, many a mediæval student, hurrying to learn from the lips of

some famous scholar, first beheld the scene of his future studies; this,

he will remember, is the Oxford of the Reformation, where, as has been

said,[1] the old world and the new lingered longest in each other's

arms, like mother and child, so much alike and yet so different; the

Oxford also of the Catholic reaction, where the young Elizabethan

Revivalists wandered by the Isis and Cherwell framing schemes for the

restoration of religion and the deliverance of the fair Mary; the loyal

and chivalrous Oxford of the Caroline period, the nursery of knights and

gentlemen, when camp and court and cloister were combined within her

walls; the Oxford of the eighteenth century, still mindful of the King

over the water, and still keeping alive in an age of materialism and

infidelity some sparks of that loftier and more generous sentiment which

ever clings to a falling cause.

It is the Oxford, again, of the Tory and High Churchman of the old

school; the home of the scholar and the gentleman, the Wellesleys, the

Cannings, the Grenvilles and the Stanleys. But the Wesleys call her Alma

Mater also, and, not less, Newman. Methodism equally with the High

Church movement originated here. Old as the nation, yet ever new, with

all the vitality of each generation's youth reacting on the sober wisdom

of its predecessor, Oxford has passed through all these and many other

stages of history, and the phases of her past existence have left their

marks upon her, in thought, in architecture and in tradition. To connect

events with the traces they have left, to illustrate the buildings of

Oxford by her history, and her history by her buildings, has been the

ideal which I have set before myself in this book. Let our traveller

then at length descend the hill and passing over Magdalen Bridge,

beneath the grey tower of ever-changing beauty, the bell-tower of

Magdalen, enter upon the "stream-like windings of that glorious street,"

the High.

So, over Shotover, down a horse path through the thick forest the bands

of mediæval scholars used to come at the beginning of each term, and

wend their way across the moor to the east gate of the city. There is no

gate to stop you now, no ford, no challenge of sentinels on the walls.

The bell-towers of S. Frideswide and Osney have long been levelled to

the dust, but the bells of Christ Church and Magdalen greet you.

But not altogether unfortunate, though perhaps with less time to

ruminate, will he be who first approaches Oxford by means of the

railway. If he is wise, he will choose at Paddington a seat on the off

side of the carriage, facing the engine. After leaving Radley the train

runs past low-lying water-meadows, willow-laden, yellow with buttercups,

purple with clover and the exquisite fritillary, and passing the

reservoir ere it runs into the station, which occupies the site of Osney

Abbey, it gives the observant traveller a splendid view of the town; of

Tom Tower, close at hand, and Merton Tower; of the spires of the

Cathedral and S. Aldate's; of S. Mary's and All Saints'; of Radcliffe's

Dome and the dainty Tower of Magdalen further away; of Lincoln Spire and

S. Michael's Tower, and of S. Martin's at Carfax. And at last, very near

at hand, the old fragment of the Castle:

"There, watching high the least alarms,

The rough, rude fortress gleams afar

Like some bold veteran, grey in arms

And marked with many a seamy scar."

Of the approaches to Oxford so much may be said; and as to the time when

it is most fit to visit her, all times are good. But best of all are the

summer months. In the spring or early summer, when the nightingales are

singing in Magdalen walks and the wild flowers

[Illustration: Magdalen Tower from Addison's Walk]

spring in Bagley Woods, when the meadows are carpeted with purple and

gold:

"The frail, white-leaved anemony,

Dark blue-bells drenched with dews of summer eves,

And purple orchises with spotted leaves;"

in June, in Eights' Week, when the University is bravely ploughing its

way through a storm of gaiety and athleticism into the inevitable

maelstrom of examinations, when the streets are crowded with cricketers,

oarsmen, and their sisters, when the Schools and College quads are

transformed into ball-rooms and many a boat lingers onward dreamily in

the golden light of the setting sun beneath the willows that fringe the

Cherwell--at these times Oxford seems an enchanted city, a land where it

is always afternoon. But you will come to know her best, and to love her

perhaps more dearly, if you choose the later summer months, the Long

Vacation. Then all the rich meadow-lands that surround her are most

tranquil, green and mellow, and seem to reflect the peace of the ancient

city, freed for a while from the turmoil of University life. Then

perhaps you will best realise the two-sided character of this

Janus-City. For there are two Oxfords in one, as our story will show,

upon the banks of the Isis--a great county town besides a great

University. And as to the mood in which you shall visit her, who shall

dictate a mood in a place so various? Something of the emotion that

Wordsworth felt may be yours:

"I could not print

Ground where the grass had yielded to the steps

Of generations of illustrious men

Unmoved. I could not always pass

Through the same gateways, sleep where they had slept,

Wake where they waked, range that inclosure old,

That garden of great intellects, undisturbed;"

or something of the charming fancifulness of Charles Lamb which may lead

you to play the student, or fetch up past opportunities, and so "pass

for nothing short of a Seraphic Doctor." Or it may please you best to

spend not all your time among the bricks and stone and mortar,

ever-changing as they are in hue and aspect, or amid the College groves

and gardens, rich as is their beauty, perfect as is their repose. The

glories of the surrounding country may tempt you most. You may wander

many happy miles through cool green country, full of dark-leaved elms

and furzy dingles, with the calm, bright river ever peeping at you

through gaps in woods and hedges, to Godstow, where Rosamund Clifford

lived and died; to Cumnor, the warm green-muffled Cumnor Hills, and

those oaks that grow thereby, on which the eyes of Amy Robsart may have

rested. You may choose to track the shy Thames shore

"through the Wytham flats,

Red loosestrife and blond meadow-sweet among,

And darting swallows and light water-gnats--"

and, with the poet, learn to know the Fyfield tree, the wood which hides

the daffodil:

"What white, what purple fritillaries

The grassy harvest of the river-fields,

Above by Ensham, down by Sandford, yields,

And what sedged brooks are Thames's tributaries."

Whichever way you choose you will turn now and again to look back upon

the spires and towers of Oxford and Radcliffe's dome, clustering

together among rich gardens and noble trees, watered by the winding,

willow-fringed Cherwell and the silver stream of Isis, "rivulets," as

Wood quaintly phrases it, "which seem to the prying spectator as so many

snakes sporting themselves therein." And so gazing you will let your

fancy roam and think of her past history and her future influence on

thought and the affairs of State.

* * * * *

Within fifty years of their first landing the Northern hordes had

conquered the greater part of Britain. Mercia, the border kingdom of the

marches, had been formed, embracing the site of Oxford; its heathen

King Penda had lived and died, the Mercians had embraced Christianity,

and Dorchester had become the seat of a Christian bishop. But it was not

till the eighth century A.D. that the vill of Oxford, an unfortified

border town on the confines of the kingdoms of Mercia and Wessex, came

into existence; it was not till the year 727, one hundred and thirty

years after S. Augustine's mission to England, that a religious

community settled there. The history of that settlement is bound up with

the story of S. Frideswide--Fritheswithe, "the Bond of Peace." For

although the details of the legend are evidently in part due to the

imagination of the monastic chroniclers, yet there is no reason to doubt

the main facts of time and place.

That Frideswide, the daughter of an under-king named Didan, founded a

nunnery at a spot where a bank of gravel ran up from what is now Christ

Church Meadow, and offered a dry site, raised above the wandering,

unbarred streams, set amid lush meadows untainted as yet by human

dwellings, and fringed by the virgin forests that clad the surrounding

hills, we need not hesitate to believe, or that here Didan presently

built a little church, some traces of which yet remain in Christ Church

Cathedral. For the rest, how Frideswide escaped by a miracle to Binsey

and lived there in the woods, in dread of the hot courtship of a young

and spritely prince; how that prince was miraculously deprived of his

sight when about to assault the city in revenge for his disappointment,

and how from that time forward disaster dogged the footsteps of any king

who entered Oxford; how the virgin Frideswide returned at last to

Oxford, and, after performing many miracles there, died and was buried

in her church--are not all these things told at length in the charming

prose of Anthony Wood? The Lady Chapel of the Cathedral, on the north

side of the choir aisle, is the architectural illustration of this story

in Oxford. It was enlarged in the thirteenth century, and has the early

English pillars and vaulting of that period, but the eastern wall

carries us back to S. Frideswide's day. And on the floor is a recent

brass which marks the spot where the bones of the virgin Saint are now

supposed to rest. Here too is the Shrine of S. Frideswide--that shrine

which used to be visited twice a year by the Vice-Chancellor and the

principal members of the University in solemn procession "to pray,

preach and offer oblations at her shrine in the Mother Church of

University and town." This is the site of S. Frideswide's first church.

The Lady Chapel is in a line with what was the ancient nave, the central

apse of that church, and there, at the east end of it and of the

adjoining aisle, are the rough rag-stone arches which were built for

her, and which led, according to the ancient Eastern plan, into three

apses. And inseparably connected with S. Frideswide too is the adjacent

Latin Chapel, by virtue of that window designed by Sir E. Burne-Jones,

one of the earliest and one of the most beautiful of the artist's

designs, so lovely in its conception that, if you take each picture

separately, it seems like some perfect poem by Rossetti translated into

colour by a mediæval craftsman. But take it as a whole and the effect is

quite other than this. It is so full of subjects and dabs of bright

colour that it is dazzling and almost unintelligible.

Burne-Jones had not grasped, even if he had studied the glazier's art.

Apart from the fact that the great predominance of fiery reds offends

the eye, the design is essentially one that has been made on paper and

not in glass, drawn with pencil and brush and not in lead. Worked out on

a flat, opaque surface the fussy effect of the window would not be

foreseen; but the overcrowded and broken character of the design is

painfully obvious when set up as a window. The scenes here depicted form

an illustrated history of the story of S. Frideswide.

The splendid fourteenth-century glass of the Latin Chapel contains also,

besides figures of S. Catherine, the patroness of students in divinity,

two representations of S. Frideswide. This chapel was built on to the

rest at two periods; the first bay from

[Illustration: Oxford Cathedral (Interior)]

the west is part of the transept aisle, the second bay belongs to the

thirteenth century, the third and fourth were added in the fourteenth,

from which period the decorated vaulting, with its bosses of roses and

water-lilies, dates. The chapel was used till recently as a lecture-room

by the Regius Professor of Divinity. The carved wood-work of the stalls

and desks should be noticed.

Didan's or S. Frideswide's Church was burnt on S. Brice's Day, 1002,

when the general massacre of Danes, which Æthelred the Unready, in a fit

of misguided energy, had ordered to take place on that day throughout

the country, was carried out at Oxford. The Danes in their extremity

rushed to S. Frideswide's Church, burst open the doors, and held the

tower as a fortress against their assailants. The citizens failed to

drive them out. As a last resource they set fire to the wooden roof and

burned the church, "together with the ornaments and books thereof." The

Danes perished in the burning.

Nothing now remains, save the parts that I have mentioned, of the church

which was then gutted. But after the massacre the King made a vow that

he would rebuild S. Frideswide's, and the church he then began to erect

forms the main part of the Cathedral as we see it to-day.

Those arches, so plain and massive, over the western bays of the north

choir aisle and Lady Chapel, were part of Æthelred's transept aisle; the

south transept aisle, now S. Lucy's Chapel; the walls of the south choir

aisle; the pillars of the choir and the open triforium of the south

transept--these are the chief portions of the Cathedral which are

thought to be unrestored parts of Æthelred's work.

It is now generally admitted that the Saxons, at the date of the

Conquest, were more advanced than the Normans in the fine arts. Their

sculpture was more highly finished and their masonry more finely

jointed. We need not therefore be surprised at the excellence and

ornamentation of the work in Oxford Cathedral, which is attributed to

this date, nor, when we remember that Æthelred was the brother-in-law of

Richard-le-bon, the great church-builder of Normandy, need we wonder at

the unwonted magnificence of Æthelred's plans for this church.

The Danes soon took ample revenge for that treacherous massacre. They

ravaged Berkshire and burned Oxford (1009). The climax came when Sweyn

arrived. The town immediately submitted to him, and "he compelled the

men of Oxford and Winchester to obey his laws" (Saxon Chronicle).

Æthelred's work was interrupted by the coming of Sweyn, and the King's

flight to Richard's court in Normandy. In the south-east pier of the

Cathedral tower there is a noticeable break in the masonry, which marks,

it is supposed, the cessation of building that coincided with the close

of Anglo-Saxon rule.

When Sweyn died Æthelred returned, and for three years held Cnut in

check. The work at S. Frideswide's was probably resumed then. The richly

carved, weather-beaten capitals of the choir, with their thick abaci and

remarkable ornamentation, partly Saxon and partly Oriental in character,

are eloquent of the exile of Æthelred and of the influence of the

Eastern monks whom he met at the court of his brother in Normandy. And

they speak not only of Byzantine influence, passing through Normandy

into England, but also, through the existing traces of exposure to rain

and wind, of the ruinous state into which the church had fallen when

"whether by the negligence of the Seculars or the continuall

disturbance of the expelled Regulars, it was almost utterly

forsaken and relinqueshed, and the more especially because of that

troublesome warre betweene King Harold and William the Conqueror."

For the nunnery which S. Frideswide founded had soon ceased to be a

nunnery. By the irony of fate, soon after her death, the nuns were

removed, and the priory was handed over to a chapter of married men, the

Secular Canons, whom S. Dunstan, in his turn, succeeded in suppressing.

But the nuns never came back, for, after many vicissitudes, the priory

was finally restored, under Henry I. (1111), as a house of the Canons

Regular of S. Augustine. Some have thought that Guimond, the first prior

(1122), was responsible for the building of the whole church, but he

more probably found enough to do in re-establishing order and restoring

the monastic buildings. His successor, Robert of Cricklade, perhaps it

was who restored Æthelred's church on the old plan and inserted most of

the later Norman work, especially the clerestory and presbytery.

The triforium and clerestory in the nave (roofed in with

sixteenth-century wood-work) give us an interesting example of the

latest Norman or Transitional style. The clerestory consists of a

pointed arch enriched with shafts at the angles, and supported on either

side by low circular arches which form the openings of a wall passage.

The arrangement of the triforium is remarkable. The massive pillars of

the nave are alternately circular and octagonal. From their capitals,

which are large, with square abaci, spring circular arches with

well-defined mouldings. These are, in fact, the arches of the triforium,

which is here represented by a blind arcade of two arches set in the

tympanum of the main arch. The true arches of the nave spring from half

capitals, set against the pillars, and are plain, with a circular

moulding towards the nave. The crown of these arches is considerably

below the main capitals of the pillars, from which the upper or

triforium arches spring. The half capitals assist in carrying the

vaulting of the aisles.

The whole arrangement, rare on the Continent, is extremely unusual in

England, but occurs, for instance, in the transept of Romsey Abbey. The

pillars of the choir date, as has been said, from Æthelred's day; the

rest is twelfth-century restoration, save the rich and graceful pendent

roof, which accords so strangely well with the robust Norman work it

crowns. The clerestory was converted into Perpendicular, and remodelled

to carry this elaborate vaulting, which should be compared with that of

the old Divinity School, or Henry VII.'s Chapel at Westminster, and

attributed, not in accordance with tradition to the time of Wolsey, but

to the close of the fifteenth century.

The very effective east end is a conjectural restoration of the old

Norman design, and was the work of Sir Gilbert Scott, who also opened

the lantern-story and made many other sweeping changes and restorations,

necessitated by the previous restorations of seventeenth-century Dean

Duppa, and the neglect of his successors.

When Cricklade's restoration was finished, or nearly so, it was decided,

in order to revive the once so famous memory of S. Frideswide, to

translate her relics from their obscure resting-place (probably the

southernmost of the three Saxon apses) to some notable place in the

church. The King, the Archbishop, many bishops, and many of the nobility

and clergy gathered together to take part in this great ceremony. The

bones of the Saint were taken up, set in a rich gilt coffin and placed

on the north side of the choir. Miracles were wrought at the new shrine,

and pilgrims crowded thither.

The money brought in by these means was badly needed, both for the

purpose of the restoration which had been in process, and which was

further necessitated by the great fire which destroyed a large part of

Oxford in 1190, and, whilst damaging the church, much injured the

monastic buildings. The fine old Norman doorway of the Chapter house,

which is attributed to Prior Guimond (1122), still bears the red marks

of that fire. The Chapter house itself is a very perfect chamber of the

early English period. The rich and graceful carving of the capitals, the

bosses of the roof, and the curious corbels, the superb glass in the

side windows, the beautiful arcade of five arches, pierced for light,

which fills the entire east end, complete and confirm, so pure are they

in style, so excellent in detail, the just proportions of this noble

room.

Early in the thirteenth century was built also the upper portion of the

tower, and that lowly spire was added, which appears scarce

[Illustration: Oxford Cathedral]

peeping above the College buildings, modestly calling attention to the

half-concealed site of the smallest cathedral in England. Oxford is a

city of towers, and domes, and steeples, all of which possess their own

peculiar character and beauty. As different as possible from the perfect

proportions of Magdalen Tower or the ornate magnificence of the

elaborate spire of the University Church, this spire is low and

simple--squat almost in appearance. Its lowliness is easily explained.

It was perhaps the very first spire built in England. The masons were

cautious, afraid of their own daring in attempting to erect so lofty a

construction, octagonal, upon the solid base of the Norman lower story.

In this first effort they did not dream of the tapering elegance of the

soaring spire of Salisbury, any more than of the rich ornamentation, the

profusion of exuberant pinnacles, the statues and buttresses, gargoyles,

crockets and arabesques, with which their successors bedecked S. Mary's

or the Clocher Neuf of Chartres. Strength and security was their chief

aim here, though the small turrets, terminating in pyramidal octagons,

which surmount the angles of the tower, are the forerunners of that

exuberant ornamentation.

In 1289 the bones of S. Frideswide were again translated. They were put

in a new and more precious shrine, placed near where the old one stood.

Fragments of the marble base of this shrine have been found, pieced

together and set up in the easternmost arch between the Lady Chapel and

the north choir aisle. These fragments of a beautiful work are

themselves beautiful; they are adorned with finely carved foliage,

intended to symbolise S. Frideswide's life when she took refuge in the

woods.

The story of the destruction of the shrine is a strange one. Before the

Reformation the Church of S. Frideswide and her shrine had enjoyed a

high reputation as a place of sanctity. Privileges were conceded to it

by royal authority. Miracles were believed to be wrought by a virtue

attaching to it; pilgrims from all parts resorted to it--among them

Queen Catherine of Aragon.

Such practices and privileges seemed to the zealous Reformers to call

for summary interference. The famous shrine was doomed to destruction,

and was actually destroyed. The fragments were used either at the time,

or not long afterwards, to form part of the walls of a common well. The

reliques of the Saint, however, were rescued by some zealous votaries,

and carefully preserved in hope of better times. Meantime Catherine (the

wife of Peter Martyr, a foreign Protestant theologian of high repute,

who had been appointed Regius Professor of Theology) died, and was

buried near the place lately occupied by the shrine. Over her grave

sermons were preached, contrasting the pious zeal of the German

Protestant with the superstitious practices that had tarnished the

simplicity of the Saxon Saint. Then came another change. The Roman

Church, under Mary Tudor, recovered a brief supremacy. The body of Peter

Martyr's wife was, by order of Cardinal Pole, contemptuously cast out of

the church, and the remains of S. Frideswide were restored to their

former resting-place. But it does not appear that any attempt was made

to restore the shrine. Party zeal still prevailed. Angry contests

continued between the adherents of the two parties even after the

accession of Elizabeth.

At length the authorities of Christ Church were commissioned to remove

the scandal that had been caused by the inhuman treatment of Catherine

Martyr's body. On January 11th, 1562, the bones of the Protestant

Catherine and the Catholic S. Frideswide were put together, so

intermingled that they could not be distinguished, and then placed

together in the same tomb: "Iam coeunt pietas atque superstitio."

Under the easternmost arch, between the Lady Chapel and the Latin

Chapel, is the fine chantry tomb, an elaborately wrought and very

beautiful example of Perpendicular workmanship, which is supposed to

have been the third and more splendid shrine of S. Frideswide, or else

to have served as a "Watching Chamber," as it is

[Illustration: Hall Stairway Christchurch

Herbert Railton Oxford]

commonly called, to protect the gold and jewels which hung about the

earlier shrine.

Under the Prior Guimond there was certainly a school connected with the

convent. Whatever the origin of the University may have been--and there

are those who maintain that it sprang from the schools of S. Frideswide

as naturally as that of Paris from the schools of Notre Dame--it is

pleasant to remember, when you stand in the middle of Tom Quad, that you

are on the site of this, the first educational institution of Oxford,

just as when you stand in the Lady Chapel of the Cathedral you are on

the site of the old priory, the mother church of the University and

town.

Another faint echo of the priory days may be traced in the annual

Cakestall in S. Olds, which is a survival of the Fair of S. Frideswide

that used to last seven days. During that time the keys of the city

passed from mayor to prior, and the town courts were closed in favour of

the Pie-Powder Court,[2] held by the steward of the priory for the

redress of all disorders committed during the fair.

The entrance to the Cathedral is through the two arches in the

cloisters, directly opposite to you as you pass into Tom Quad beneath

Tom Tower. This curious entrance reminds you at once of the peculiar

position of the Cathedral as three parts College chapel. Tom Quad is the

largest quadrangle in Oxford (264 by 261 feet), and was begun by Wolsey

on a scale which is sufficient evidence of the extreme magnificence of

his plans for "Cardinal's College." It was begun, but has never been

finished. The shafts and marks of the arches, from which the vaults of

the intended cloister were to spring, are, however, plainly visible. Of

the old cloister of the monastery no trace remains save the windows and

door of the chapter house; the fifteenth-century cloisters that do exist

are not to be compared with those of New College or Magdalen. One side

of them was destroyed by Wolsey to make room for the College Hall. On

the south side of the cloister is the old library, which was formerly

the refectory of the monastery. With the chapter house doorway it

survives as a relic of the old conventual buildings, in quiet contrast

to the splendour of the superb kitchen, and the still more magnificent

hall, with its valuable collection of portraits. The vaulted chamber,

which contains the staircase by which this hall is approached, is one of

the most beautiful things in Oxford. The lovely fan-tracery of the vault

and the central pillar were the work of "one Smith, an artificer from

London," and were built as late as 1640, in the reign of Charles II. It

affords a striking instance of the fact in architectural history, that

good Gothic persisted in Oxford long after the influence of Italian work

had destroyed it elsewhere.

To make room for this magnificent quadrangle of his the Cardinal also

destroyed the three western bays of the Church of S. Frideswide. He had

intended to build a new chapel along the north side of Tom Quad which

should rival the chapel of King's College at Cambridge. But this work

was interrupted by his fall. The foundations of the chapel have been

traced, and they show that the west end ran in a line with the octagonal

turrets in S. Aldate's Street, and the walls reached nearly to Fell's

passage into Peckwater.

For its massive walls Wolsey used some of the stones from the demolished

Osney Abbey. The building at the time of his fall had risen some feet

above the ground. Dean Fell, it is supposed, used it as a quarry for the

construction of his own quadrangle. Now, there had been constructed a

new straight walk in the Meadows, and Fell, anxious to improve it,

carted the chippings from his own work to lay on it. The chippings were

white, so the walk got the name of White. This was corrupted at the end

of the eighteenth century to Wide Walk, and hence to Broad

[Illustration: Christ's Church]

Walk--its present name--which really describes it now better than the

original phrase.

The destruction of the western bays of the church by Wolsey accounts for

the shortened aspect of the nave, slightly relieved though it is by the

new western bay which serves as a sort of ante-chapel to the nave and

choir which now form the College Chapel of Christ Church. But the

appearance of the Cathedral owes something of its strangeness to the

fact that it represents, in general plan, the design of King Æthelred's

Church reared upon the site of S. Frideswide's.