As an illustration of what sometimes occurred, we may take the case of Master Henry Sever, Warden of Merton Hall. He had carried out certain repairs of the buildings, and, in order to discharge the bill, had borrowed from Seltone chest the maximum amount permitted by the ordinance—sixty shillings. To obtain this advance he had pledged an illuminated missal of considerably greater value, and now he had come prepared to redeem it. He finds that the missal had been lent to some client for the purpose of inspection, a silver cup, estimated by the stationer to be worth even more, being deposited in its stead. This is not precisely what Master Sever had wanted. However, he takes the cup, assured that he will presently be able to negotiate an exchange with the person in possession of his missal.
This serves as a reminder that, if money was scarce, books—the mainspring of intellectual activity—were yet scarcer; and it is of the utmost interest to inquire how this famine of the arts was mitigated. Oral lectures were the rule, but books could not be entirely dispensed with; and even Wardens might not always be in a position to procure all the works of which they stood in need. The obvious remedy was a library or libraries; and such collections—they arrived in good time, chiefly through the bequests of virtuosi—constituted an invaluable resource to that vast horde of scholars whose scanty means would not allow them to purchase books. As the result of Mr. Blakiston's research, the famous library with which Richard Aungerville is said to have endowed Durham College, and, according to Adam de Murimuth, filled five carts, turns out to be a myth or rather a pious intention. The good Bishop died deep in debt, and the books, if preserved as a collection, went, it is now certain, elsewhere. Thirty-five years later, however, another bishop, Thomas Cobham, of Worcester, who died in 1327, bequeathed to the University a mass of books, and the statute referring to them provides that they shall be chained in convenient order in the "soler" over the old Congregation House, where all the property of the University was stored. The books were to be in the custody of a chaplain, who was to pray for the soul of the donor.
Another statute relates to a "chest of four keys," from which it appears that books were kept in coffers and lent upon indenture or security, exactly as was done in the case of money. It was also a by no means infrequent occurrence for persons to give or bequeath books on condition that they were chained in the chancel of the church for the use of scholars and periodically inspected by the chancellor and proctors. By far the greatest benefactor of the University in the matter of books was Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, who made many valuable presents during his lifetime, and on his death, in 1447, a final large instalment was added to the store. Of these only one remains in the Bodleian Library, but in contemporary letters there are many notes expressing gratitude for, and appreciation of, this splendid munificence, which advanced the cause of learning more perhaps than any other donation recorded in the annals of the University.
The well-being of the librarian was, very properly, a subject of concern. By an ordinance of 1412 his stipend was raised, and he became recognized as one of the chief officers of the University. Lest "hope deferred" should produce slackness in the performance of his duties, the proctors were bound to pay his salary regularly, and, as a further encouragement, every beneficed graduate, on his inception, was required to make him a present of clothes. A similar custom prevailed with regard to the bedels, and it is sententiously remarked that it would be absurd for one adorned with superior dignity to be endued with inferior privileges.
The ordinance of 1412 brought about other changes. At the outset the library was accessible to all scholars at stated times; permission was now confined to graduates or religious, and, in the case of the latter, to those who were of eight years' standing in philosophia. Thus a monk named Hardwyke, who did not possess this qualification, had to sue for a "grace," and even then the privilege was limited to one term. The reasons for these restrictions probably were that the undergraduate constituency in those days was composed, in a great degree, of careless and dirty boys, who would be apt to soil the manuscripts, while the monks had their own libraries, to which they could resort without encroaching on the slender resources of masters and bachelors. All graduates on admission were required to take a solemn oath that they would handle the books modo honesto et pacifico, nulli librorum per turpitudinem aut rasuras abolitionesque foliorum, præjudicium inferendo.
The librarian was granted a month's vacation, and the library was closed on Sundays and holy days, unless it should chance that a distinguished stranger desired to visit it, when leave was given him from sunrise to sunset, subject to the condition that he was not followed by a loud rabble. At all other times, the hours during which the library was open were from nine to eleven o'clock a.m., and from one to four o'clock p.m. Suspended on the wall was a large board inscribed with the names both of the books and the donors "lest oblivion, the stepmother of memory, should pluck from our breasts the remembrance of our benefactors." To the same intent thrice every quarter a solemn mass of the Holy Ghost, and once every quarter a requiem mass, were said at the altar of St. Katherine in the Church of the Blessed Virgin. Every night the books and the windows of the library were closed, and, with certain rare exceptions, books were not permitted to be removed.
While money and books were the twin bases on which the fabric of the University reposed, it is plain that a great institution of the sort would involve the employment of numerous agencies not strictly concerned with the work of instruction, but engaged upon the not less necessary functions of maintaining order and ministering to the needs of the body. All persons so occupied were accounted as "of the privilege of the University," and were subject to the jurisdiction of the Chancellor. From an indenture between the University of Oxford and the Town, dated 1459, we find that the Privilege embraced:
"The Chaunceller, alle doctours, maistres, other graduats, alle studients, alle scholers, and alle clerkes, dwellyng within the precint of the Universite, of what condicion, ordre or degree soever they be, every dailly continuell servant to eny of theym bifore rehersed belonging, the styward of the Universite wyth their menyall men, also alle Bedells with their dailly servants and their householdes, all catours, manciples, spencers, cokes, lavenders, povere children of scolers or clerkes, within the precinct of the said Universite, also alle other servants taking clothing or hyre by the yere, half yere, or quarter of the yere takyng atte leste for the yere vi. shillings and viij. pence, for the half iii. shillings and iv. pence, and the quarter xx. pence of any doctour, maister, graduat, scoler or clerc without fraud or malengyne; also, alle common caryers, bryngers of scolers to the Universite, or their money, letters, or eny especiall message to eny scoler or clerk, or fetcher of eny scoler or clerk fro the Universite for the tyme of such fetchyng or bryngyng or abidyng in the Universite to that entent."
Parchment-makers, illuminators, scribes, barbers, and tailors were also, by convention, members of the Privilege.
Before going farther, it will be well to inquire what is intended by the "precinct of the University." There appears to have been some amount of uncertainty as to the radius included. In 1444 Henry VI. granted authority to the Chancellor to banish any contumacious person from the precinct of the University, which was taken to mean a circuit of twelve miles. On the other hand, on March 17, 1458, David Ap-Thomas swore on the Holy Gospels that he would keep the peace towards the members of the University, would inform the authorities of any plot against them which might come to his knowledge, would not assist in rescuing Richard Lude from prison, and would leave Oxford on the following day, nor presume to come within ten miles of the University for twelve weeks.
Of all the persons named as of the Privilege the bedels, as the executive officers, most distinctly represent its character and extent. The office of bedel was, of course, not confined to the Universities. In London, for example, the wards had their bedels, who were sworn, inter alia, to suffer no persons of ill repute to dwell in the ward of which they were bedels, and to return good men upon inquests. They were also to have a good horn and loud sounding. At Oxford the bedels were bound to make summonses for scholars at their request, and to arrest wrong-doers. The latter duty was naturally attended with some peril; and in 1457, one Richard of the Castle, flying from the hands of Came, Bedel, with drawn dagger, because he refused to go to prison, was banished from the University. Fines also were levied by the bedels, and they played a conspicuous part in the ceremonies of Congregation and similar assemblies. As the position was liable to abuse, they were bound by certain restrictions. Thus, they were forbidden to ask or receive [extraordinary?] fees from inceptors[3] and to carry anything away with them from the feasts at inceptions. They were required to attend funerals, but might not ask for a share of the offerings, nor for any present from the executors of the dead. And they had to give up their maces at the first congregation after Michaelmas, but were eligible for reappointment.
The bedels were of two grades—higher and lower; and the superior bedels were bound by immemorial usage to provide the inferior bedels with board and lodging and ten shillings a year for shoes. In 1337 the latter, on resigning their office in congregation, according to custom, complained that the superior bedels had neglected to furnish them with board. Thereupon the University decreed that the inferior bedels should be granted the option of standing at meals with the superior or receiving a weekly allowance of sevenpence as compensation. This allowance was to be suspended during the absence from Oxford of any inferior bedel, whether occasioned by his own affairs or those of the University. The annual payment of ten shillings for shoes was confirmed. Failure to observe these regulations subjected superior bedels to the loss of their office when the time came for the maces to be resumed.
The question will naturally arise—From what source, or sources, did the superior bedels obtain the means not only to provide for their necessities, but also to feed, house, and, to some extent, clothe their hungry and dissatisfied dependents? Light is thrown upon this subject in a way which shows that the superior bedels themselves may not have been without a grievance. At any rate, about seventy years later—in 1411—an ordinance draws attention to omissions on the part of the students, evidently inconvenient at the time, in the following words:
"The charity of students has in these latter days grown cold, so that they no longer make collections for the Doctors and Masters of their several faculties, nor make due presents to the Bedels; therefore it is decreed that henceforth all scholars, on receiving notices from a Doctor, Master, or Bedel of their respective faculties shall pay regular contributions according to the ancient statutes on pain of losing the current year of their academical course, and of forfeiting their privilege; and all principals of halls, at the notice of the Doctors, Masters, or Bedels, shall within a month from the commencement of such collection, take care that the members of their societies contribute, and send in the names of those who fail to do so to the Chancellor under a penalty of twenty shillings: and every Doctor or Master shall pay the Bedel honestly within a month from the commencement of the collection."
From a notice of the year 1432 it transpires that the bedels received one-twelfth of all fines inflicted for misdemeanours; and, in 1434, prior to the admission of inceptors, the Chancellor announced that each inceptor would be required to pay the ordinary fee of thirty shillings and a pair of buckskin gloves for each bedel, or, in lieu of gloves, five shillings to be divided among the bedels. Two licentiates protested against such payment, stating that it was contrary to the statutes, whereupon an inquiry was held, by which it was established that these fees had been paid to the bedels from time immemorial and were therefore due.
The appointment of the bedels rested with the Regent Masters, and was one of their most jealously guarded prerogatives. Mention has been made of John Came, who for many years held the office of bedel. When he was elected, in 1433, by four Regent Masters and the two Proctors in congregation, an attempt was made by the Chancellor and the Doctors of the four faculties to substitute a nominee of their own, one Benedict Stokes, on the ground that they were the senior members of the University, and represented a majority of their faculties. Realizing that the supremacy of the Faculty of Arts was menaced, the Proctors resisted this claim and demanded the admission of Came, with the result that the Chancellor reluctantly gave way. An appeal was entered by Richard Cauntone, a doctor of laws, and the candidate, Benedict Stokes, but three days later was renounced by both of them as frivolous, and their cautions were forfeited. Even then the matter did not end. Two days afterwards, information came to the Proctors that one of the doctors had given his scholars to understand that the election would have been invalid but for a vote recorded by a doctor. Thereupon the Proctors, in order to settle the question once for all, summoned a congregation, by which it was determined that the phrase "major part" imported a numerical majority.
The election of bedels was conducted in the same way as that of the Chancellor. Every such election was preceded by three proclamations made within eight "legible" days after the office had become vacant.
The relations between the University and the Town will be dealt with presently. Here it may be noticed that the bedels exercised some control over the proceedings of the townsmen which concerned the interests of students. As an illustration, when the goods and chattels of Harry Keys, a scholar, which had been left in the house of Thomas Manciple, were "presyd" betwixt Thomas Smyth and Davy Dyker, the valuers were sworn before John Wykam, Bedel.
If the bedels, as public officials, were necessarily and conspicuously of the Privilege, the remark is not less true of those humbler functionaries, the personal attendants of the scholars. As we have seen, the payment of the bedels depended in part on collections, and the gains of the scholars' servants were derived from the same source. Every master was compelled by statute to exact contributions from his scholars at the end of term at what was called "collection." At the present time the expression is applied to terminal examinations, and this use of it originated from the circumstance that fees were paid by the scholars varying in accordance with the subject of study. For grammar the statutable amount was eightpence, for natural philosophy fourpence, and for logic threepence per term, and it was usual to reckon four terms to the year. To each scholar were allotted two servants—a superior and an inferior; the former receiving threepence, and the latter one penny per term. There was no evading these charges; even the poorest student had to pay "scot and lot" towards the support of both classes of menials, some of whom were doubtless better off than himself. The division of these servants into orders, resembling those of the bedels, has descended to modern days, most Oxford colleges having their upper and under "scouts." This, it has been well observed, "is a curious instance of the vitality of insignificant customs, which exist while the greater give place to new."
At the commencement of the chapter, a list was furnished of various occupations—more or less connected with the work of the University—the professors of which were regarded as of the Privilege. The term "privilege," in this and similar contexts, denotes administrative autonomy and special jurisdiction; and members of these trades were amenable to the Chancellor, while the Chancellor had to answer for their good behaviour to the King and Parliament. In the Middle Ages the Chancellor was not, as he is to-day, a permanent and ornamental figure-head, the duties properly pertaining to the office being discharged by the Vice-Chancellor. He was the active and dominant centre of University life, and, as such, took cognizance of numerous details which would now be deemed too petty, and even ridiculous, for a personage of his dignity and importance. So great, however, was the pressure of judicial and other business that it was necessary that he should be relieved of part of the burden, and thus we often find commissaries sitting in his room and stead.
The powers of the Chancellor were very considerable. They did not extend to questions of life or death, but he could fine, he could imprison, he could banish, and, being an ecclesiastic, he could excommunicate; and these methods of reproof and coercion were constantly employed by him as ex-officio justice of the peace and censor of public morals. The privilege of the University was of a dual nature. It protected the scholars in any court of first instance but a University court; on the other hand, the University obtained full control over its scholars, who were forbidden to enter a secular court. Litigants were allowed to appeal, and very frequently did appeal, from the Chancellor's decision to Congregation, and, if they were still not satisfied and the matter was sufficiently grave, to the Pope—that is, in spiritual causes. In temporal causes an appeal lay to the higher tribunals of the realm and the King. The Chancellor, also, might appeal to the King, invoking the secular arm in cases where the voice of the Church proved ineffectual in dealing with rebellious subjects, and the letter addressed to the sovereign for this purpose was called, in technical language, a significavit.
Sometimes the King, moved perhaps by a petition from his lieges in one or other of the University towns, admonished the Chancellor to be more alert in the performance of his duty. In June, 1444, the head of the University of Oxford was in receipt of the following missive from Henry VI.:
"Trusty and welbeloved, we grete you wel, and late you wyte that we have understanden by credible report of the greet riotts and misgovernance that have at diverse tymys ensued and contynelly ensue by two circuits used in oure Universite of Oxon in the vigile of St. John Baptist and the Holy Apposteles Peter and Paule to the gret hurt and disturbance of the sad and wol vituled personnes of the same Universite, wherefore We, wolling such vices and misgovernaunce to be suppressyd and refused in the said Universite and desiring the ease and tranquillite of the said peuple in the same, wol and charge you straitly that ye see and ordeyne by youre discretione that al such vices and misgovernaunce be left and all such as may be founde defective in that behalve be sharply punished in example of all other; and more over We charge you oure Chancellor, to whom the governance and keeping of our paix within oure said Universite by virtu of our privilege roial is committed that in eschewing of all inconvenience, ye see and ordeyne that oure paix be surely kepe within oure Universite above said, as wel in the saide vigiles as at all other tymes; and for asmuch as We be enformed that the sermons in latin which ever before this tyme, save now of late, be now gretly discontynued, to the gret hurt and disworship of the same, We therefore, desiring right affecturusely the increse of vertu and cunning in oure said Universite, wol and commande you straitly that ye with ripe and suffisant maturite, advise a sure remede in that party, by the which such sermons may thereafter be continued and inviolably observed, wherein ye shal do unto Us right singulier pleisir.—Geven under oure signet at Farneham the 20 day of Juyn."
The reader will no doubt be interested to learn the occasion of this reprimand. The concluding portion invests it with a somewhat general character, and may be interpreted as pointing to a lamentable decline from a previous high standard of piety and learning, which only incessant preaching was calculated to rectify. Neglecting this postscript, it is pretty evident that the scandal arising from the observance of vigils was produced by the inconsiderate carousals of craftsmen included in the Privilege, and was therefore obnoxious to the magisterial notice of the Chancellor. It will be sufficient to refer to the riots on the Eve of St. John Baptist.
As was the custom in mediæval towns, different trades had different stations assigned to them, and the tailors, who must have driven a flourishing business in caps and gowns, had their shops in the north-west ward of St. Michael's Parish. In ancient days these satellites indulged at certain seasons—more particularly on the Eve of St. John Baptist—in unseemly demonstrations. They waxed very jovial, and, after eating, drinking, and carousing, "took a circuit" through the streets of the city, accompanied by sundry musicians, and "using certain sonnets" in praise of their profession and patron. As long as they kept within these limits there seems to have been no complaint, but the thing increased more and more. People were disturbed and alarmed, the watch beaten, and from blows the outrageous tailors passed to murder. And so it came about that their revelling, with the "circuit" of another profession on the Eve of St. Peter and St. Paul, was prohibited first by Edward III. and then by Henry VI. in the letter above cited.
Another trade closely associated with the University was that of the barbers. In the twenty-second year of Edward III. (1348) the whole company and fellowship of the barbers within the precincts of Oxford appeared before the Chancellor and announced their intention of "joining and binding themselves together in amity and love." They brought with them certain ordinances and statutes drawn up in writing for the weal of the craft of barbers, and requested the Chancellor to peruse and correct them, and, afterwards, if he approved, attach to them the seal of the University. The regulations having been seriously considered by the Chancellor, the two proctors and certain doctors, it was resolved to comply with the petition on the day following and constitute the barbers a society or corporation.
The first article stipulated that the said craft should, under certain penalties, keep and maintain a light before the image of our Lady in our Lady's Chapel, within the precincts of St. Frideswyde's Church; the second, that no person of the said craft should work on a Sunday, save on market Sundays and in harvest-time, or shave any but such as were to preach or do a religious act on Sunday all through the year; while a third provided that all such as were of the craft were to receive at least sixpence a quarter from each customer who desired to be shaved weekly in his chamber or house. One shave per week does not coincide with our modern notions of what is attractive and presentable in the outer man, but the same rule prevailed at Cambridge. The statutes of St. John's College in the latter university affirmed: "A barber is very necessary to the college, who shall shave and cut once a week the head and beard of the Master, Fellows, and Scholars, as they shall severally have need."
In the statutes of New College, Oxford, there is an injunction against the mock ceremony of shaving on the night preceding magistration. It is called a ludus (or play), and is believed to have been affined to the ecclesiastical mummeries so popular in the Middle Ages, in one of which the characters were a bishop, an abbot, a preceptor, and a fool shaved the precentor on a public stage erected at the west end of the church. There was also a species of masquerade celebrated by the religious in France, which consisted in the display of the most formidable beards; and it is recorded by Gregory of Tours that the Abbess of Poitou was accused of allowing one of these shows, called a Barbitoria, to be held in her monastery.
The only men of religion permitted to wear long beards were the Templars; and, speaking generally,[4] the presence or absence of hair was one of the marks of cleavage between the clergy (tonsi) and the laity (criniti). Even those privileged to wear long hair—we refer, of course, to the male portion of the community—were required to be shorn so far that part of their ears might appear, and that their eyes might not be covered. At first it may seem strange that the question of trimming the hair should come under the cognizance of the Church—the person himself or his barber might have been deemed at liberty to consult his own taste. The canon, however, which regulated the usage was based on the apostolic challenge: "Doth not nature itself teach you that, if a man hath long hair, it is a shame unto him?"
This ordinance applied a fortiori to priests, who had to be content with very little hair. At a visitation of Oriel College by Longland, Bishop of London, in 1531, he ordered one of the Fellows, who was a priest, to abstain, under pain of expulsion, from wearing a beard and pinked shoes, like a laic. It would seem that this spiritual person had been accustomed to ridicule the Governor and Fellows of the college, since he was commanded to abjure that bad habit also.
The correct explanation of the custom condemned by the New College statutes is doubtless that already furnished. Hearne, however, had an idea that it was a reflexion on the Lollards. Wiclif is always represented with a beard, and, as most of his followers were lay-folk, it was possibly a symbol of the sect, which may have recollected the text: "Neither shalt thou mar the corners of thy beard."
The interest of the University in expert tonsure is now well understood, but the craving for the subjugation of falsifying hair must have been quite secondary to that for the sustenance of the bodily powers, and accordingly the cooks stood very near to the purveyors of intellectual aliment. Nor did the Chancellor concern himself merely with the ratification of their ordinances; as the natural sequence, he, or his deputy, saw to it that they were properly respected, and formed a court of appeal for the settlement of internecine differences. Thus, on August 19, 1463, two persons, proctors of the craft of cooks of the University of Oxford, petitioned the Commissary against one of the members who had declined to contribute to the finding of candles, vulgarly called "Coke-Lyght," in the church of St. Mary-the-Virgin, and to a certain accustomed feast on the day of the Cooks' Riding in the month of May. A day was appointed for investigating the matter, when the defendant did not appear, but several witnesses were produced to confirm the plaintiffs' assertions. Robert, the cook of Hampton Hall, deposed that all the cooks of Colleges and Halls had been used to contribute to the annual feast; that he had been a cook for six years, and that the cooks had always nominated two of their number to gather contributions. His testimony was corroborated by Stephen, the cook of Vine Hall, as also by Walter, another cook, and John, the cook of "Brasenos." It is worthy of note that in the record of these proceedings the names are entered as "Stephanus Coke," "Walterus Coke," and "Johannes Coke," thus throwing light on the formation of one of our commonest surnames.
Not only were questions of public policy and "constitutional usage" determined by the Chancellor's court, but delinquents of all descriptions were brought up for judgment. Here we shall do well to remember that this was an ecclesiastical court, and therefore offences against good morals as well as the law of the land were dealt with. A person unjustly defamed as guilty of incontinence could clear himself by a voluntary process of compurgation—that is, by the sworn testimony of reputable friends. If, unhappily, he was guilty, he might rehabilitate himself by formally abjuring his indiscretions. Both scholars and others of the Privilege frequently appeared before the Chancellor in the character of penitents. In 1443 a certain Christina, laundress of St. Martin's parish, swore that she would no longer exercise her trade for any scholar or scholars of the University, because under colour of it many evils had been perpetrated, wherefore she was imprisoned and freely abjured the aforesaid evils in the presence of Master Thomas Gascoigne, S.T.P., the Chancellor. In 1444 Dominus Hugo Sadler, priest, swore on the Holy Gospels that he would not disturb the peace of the University, and would abstain from pandering and fornication, on pain of paying five marks on conviction. In this case four acted as sureties, singly and jointly. In 1452 Robert Smyth, alias Harpmaker, suspected of adultery with Joan Fitz-John, tapestry-maker, dwelling in the corner house on the east side of Cat-strete, abjured the society of the same Joan, and swore that he would not come into any place where she was, whether in the public street, market, church, or chapel, on pain of paying forty shillings to the University. On August 22, 1450, Thomas Blake, peliparius, William Whyte, barber, John Karyn, chirothecarius, "husbundemen" (householders), presented themselves before the Chancellor, and, touching the Holy Gospels, abjured the game of tennis within Oxford and its precinct.
At this point it will be convenient to refer to a custom not by any means confined to the Universities, about which there appears to be some degree of misconception. "Love-days," as they are called, have been strangely confused with law-days, whereas the very essence of the institution was the avoidance of litigation with all its expense and ill-feeling. The practice of submitting disputes to friendly arbitration was seemingly founded on the text: "Dare any of you having a matter against another go to law before the unbelievers and not before the saints?" In these circumstances it is not surprising that the clergy bore a great part in such proceedings; and thus we find Chaucer avouching of his Frere:
In love-dayes ther coude he mochel helpe,
For ther he was nat lyk a cloisterer,
With a thredbare cope, as is a poore scoler,
But he was lyk a maister or a pope.
The University, being a microcosm of the entire kingdom, an imperium in imperio, by virtue of the "privilege roiall," cases occur in which deplorable misunderstandings were referred to the decision of one or more graduates of position—either in the first instance, or, it might be, ultimately, to the Chancellor or Commissary—by persons subject to academic tutelage. When the affair had been adjudicated, forms of reconciliation were prescribed, the parties being required to shake hands, go on their knees to one another, give each other the "kiss of peace," and provide a feast at their mutual expense, the menu of which was sometimes determined by the arbiter.
This interesting and admirable feature of old English life receives such copious illustration from the annals of Oxford that it seems worth while to specify examples. Thus, on November 8, 1445, a dispute between John Godsond, stationer, and John Coneley, "lymner," having been referred to two Masters of Arts and they having failed to compose it within the time stipulated, the Chancellor intervened and decided that John Coneley should work for John Godsond for one year only; that his wages should be four marks, ten shillings; that he should himself fetch his work and return it to his employer's abode; that he should be thrifty in the use of his colours; and that his employer should have free ingress to the place where he sat at work. On July 7, 1446, four arbitrators, having in hand a quarrel between Broadgates and Pauline Halls, imposed the following conditions: That the Principals should implore reconciliation from each other for themselves and their parties; that they should give, either to other, the kiss of peace, and swear upon the Holy Gospels to have brotherly love toward each other for the future, and bind themselves to its observance under a bond to pay one hundred shillings for the violation thereof. The bond was to be in the keeping of the Chancellor, and he was to deliver it, should hostilities be renewed, into the hands of the aggrieved party. David Philip, alleged to have struck John Coneley, was commanded to kneel to him, and ask and receive his pardon. It is worthy of remark that the invariable phrase applied to past quarrels is "ab origine mundi," which left no loophole for the revival of ancestral feuds, however remote in point of time.
On July 21, 1452, Master Robert Mason, having delivered judgment in the case of Thomas Condale, a servant of New College, and John Morys, tailor, required both parties, as a pledge of goodwill, to invite their neighbours to an entertainment, and provide at their joint charges two gallons of good ale.
On January 10, 1465, Thomas Chaundler, S.T.P., Commissary-General of the University of Oxford, having been chosen as arbitrator between the worshipful Sir Thomas Lancester, Canon-regular and prior of the same order of students, and Simon Marshall, on the one part, and John Merton, pedagogue, and his wife, on the other, decreed that none of them should abuse, threaten, or make faces at each other, and that they should forgive all past offences. None of them was to institute further proceedings, judicial or extra-judicial, and within fifteen days of the date thereof they were to furnish an entertainment at their joint charges—one party to furnish a goose with a measure of wine, and the other bread and beer.
Finally, on February 6, 1465, Dr. John Caldbeke, arbiter between certain members of "White Hall" and "Deep Hall," ordered the parties to pardon each other and commence no ulterior proceedings. He imposed perpetual silence on them, and as to a certain desk, the causa teterrima belli, reserved the decision to the Chancellor. The disputants, accompanied by four members of each hall, were to meet at a time and place to be named, wine was to be provided for their mutual entertainment, and, before parting, they were to shake hands.
The question has been deferred too long—Against whom did the University maintain its privilege? In part, no doubt, against the King's officers, but, mainly, against the Mayor and Burgesses of Oxford, between whom and the scholars there was a simmering hostility bursting into periodical mêlées answering to, but infinitely more sanguinary than, the "town and gown rows" of more recent days. The general result of these disturbances, assumed to be acts of aggression on the part of the citizens, but more probably provoked by the insolence of the undergraduate portion of the University, of which there is abundant evidence, was to fortify the authority of the Chancellor and extend his powers. We have seen that the townsmen, at an early period, were mulcted in an annual tribute, of which they were afterwards relieved, for hanging certain clerks. This might have served as a sufficient warning of the inviolability of the erudite persons in their midst, but it failed of effect. Altogether there were three capital riots in the later Middle Ages, which we shall proceed to notice, together with the consequences.
Of these three great conflicts between townsmen and scholars the first occurred in 1214. This was ended by a compromise brought about by the Bishop of Tusculum, the Papal Legate, the King granting jurisdiction to the University in all cases where one of the parties was a scholar or a scholar's servant. The second tumult, which took place in 1290, induced the King to confer upon the University the custody of the peace, the custody of the assize of victuals, and the supervision of weights and measures jointly with the Mayor, who had hitherto borne full sway in matters of police. The third battle was in 1357. This was the famous riot of St. Scholastica's day—satis periculosa—which resulted in the excommunication of the Mayor, while he and the commonalty of the town of Oxford were laid under an interdict by John, Bishop of Lincoln. The Mayor, who was a vintner and drawn into the quarrel through it having arisen in his tavern, is stated in one account to have been originally in the service of the University—protected by the Privilege—and this, of course, was regarded as an aggravation of his offence. The end of it was that the rights before mentioned were confirmed with certain extensions—namely, the supervision of the pavement, and the custody of the peace as well between laics as scholars, while the Mayor was excluded from the custody of the peace between scholars.
As a species of penance the Mayor and his fellows were enjoined by the Bishop of Lincoln to attend an anniversary mass at St. Mary's on St. Scholastica's Day; and the scholars were forbidden, on pain of a long term of imprisonment, to inflict on any layman of the town, whilst on his way to the church, during the celebration of the mass, or in the course of his return, any injury or violence, lest he should be deterred from the observance of the duty. This caution was proclaimed through the schools year by year on the "legible day" immediately preceding the festival. Good relations were hard to restore, and as long after as 1432 the authorities were reduced to publishing the following edict in the hope of abating the scandal:
"Whereas there are no more suitable means of allaying the lamentable dissensions between the University and the Town, which are a sign of the wrath of the Almighty, than the devout supplications of priests walking in procession, therefore this ordinance is made for the regulation of such processions. First shall walk the Chancellor, after him the Doctors by two and two, in the rank of their several faculties, then Masters of Arts, then Bachelors in Theology, then Non-Regents, then beneficed Bachelors, then all other Bachelors, then secular priests non-graduates, then scholars, all by two and two, and all silently praying for the King and other benefactors living and dead, and for the peace and prosperity of the University. Priests non-graduates shall be bound to attend on pain of a fine of sixpence, but no licentiates of any faculty soever may in any wise be present at the act."
It would not be fair to conclude this account without giving the townsmen's version of the way in which the Privilege was exercised. This can be conveniently presented in the terms of two petitions, one of which certainly, and the other probably, dates from the second year of Edward III. (1328). If there be any truth in the allegations, it must be owned that the Chancellor abused his judicial position to a degree quite intolerable to the victims.
"To the King and Council; the Burgesses of Oxford complain, whereas the Chancellor and University of Oxford have cognizance of contracts, covenants, and trespass between clerk and clerk, or clerk and lay, they encroach on the franchise of the town, and draw to them these contracts, etc., between laymen, especially in certain gifts and actions brought before the Chancellor, wherein a clerk has some concern, who, by covine, are made to incur large sums which were not due, and thus the defendants are condemned and afterwards excommunicated in all the churches of the town, unless they agree thereto; and if they are not absolved of the sentence before the Chancellor, they are despoiled even to their breeches, and must give all their goods to the clerk. In the same way a plea of trespass in which there has been a cession to a clerk is made to terminate in a plea of debt, and thus charges of rent upon free tenements are proved, against law and in great burden to the tenements of the town. Thus the Chancellor encroaches on the franchises of the town, to the damage of the King's profits on writs and issues on pleas of debts, &c., pleadable before the Justices, or before the Mayor and bailiffs of the town. And with such proceedings taken before the Chancellor concerning merchants and other strangers passing through, as well as residents, the merchants will not repair thither on account of such evil doings, and the town is thereby greatly impoverished."
"To the King and Council: Walter de Harewell, burgess and inheritor in Oxford, showing that whereas the Chancellor of the University has cognizance of offences and contracts between clerk and clerk, and clerk and lay, in the town, but nowhere else, one William de Wyneye, clerk, impleaded him before the Chancellor for offences done out of his jurisdiction in a foreign county; the said Walter justified himself before the Chancellor, but the said Chancellor, notwithstanding, condemned him to prison and kept him in prison in Oxford till he contented the said William with a large sum of money, and made an obligation of £20 to be at the will of the said University, and still he had to find mainprise before he could be set free. And because when he was taken and led to prison by the bedels of the University, he entered his house and shut his coffers and chests and the door of his room for the safety of his goods and chattels, the said Chancellor banished him out of the town, and had it proclaimed everywhere, as though he were an outlaw, and sequestered all his goods and chattels, threatening if he entered the town to imprison him again for six days. No one ever had such franchise or power thus to outlaw, destroy, and banish the King's burgesses in the said town. Prays a remedy for charity."[5]
Owing perhaps to their peculiar position as the King's chattels, neither the chartered rights of the citizens nor the Privilege of the University could be directly asserted against the Jews, of whom a considerable body appears to have been settled at Oxford, but the unbelievers were not allowed to do as they pleased. A critical instance occurred at Ascensiontide, 1268, in connexion with a solemn procession to St. Frideswyde's, when certain horrible Jews, demoniaco spiritu arrepti, seized a cross from the bearer, broke it, and trampled it under foot. Complaint was made to the King, who happened to be at Woodstock, and he issued an order for the making of two crosses at the expense of the Jews, one of which was to be of silver gilt and portable, and the other of marble and stationary. These were to be preserved for the perpetual remembrance of the outrage; and the silver cross was presented to the Chancellor, masters, and scholars, to be borne before them in their solemn procession. An ordinance states that "since the relics of the Blessed Frideswyde repose in the borough of Oxford, and more especially ought to be deservedly honoured as well by the University as by others, particularly by all who dwell in the aforesaid town, that the said University may obtain, through the intervenient merits and prayers of the same, more abundant tranquillity and peace for the future, a solemn procession be made in the middle, to wit, Lent term, to the church of the same virgin, for the peace and tranquillity of the University, and that solemn mass be held there in respect of the above-said virgin."
We have expounded with some particularity the conditions of University life; we have now to deal with University life in its more intimate relations. And first we must say something of the title, the Latinity of which is not above suspicion, though its convenience and expressiveness are beyond question. The term studium generale was applied, in mediæval times, to an academy in which instruction was imparted on all subjects, and which was thus differentiated from grammar schools and schools of divinity, in the former of which the curriculum was restricted to Latin, and in the latter to theology. The phrase connoted also a place of common resort, as distinct from mere local foundations, the advantages of which were confined to the immediate neighbourhood. According to Mr. Froude, no fewer than thirty thousand students "gathered out of Europe to Paris to listen to Abelard"; and the traditions of Oxford and Cambridge were equally hospitable.
Before discussing the system of degrees, it is desirable to speak of the "men"—the candidates for graduation; and, in this connexion, stress must be laid on the cosmopolitan character of our older universities, which welcomed with open arms students of various races and of all ranks of society. The Oxford statutes contain a provision for the proclamations being made in Latin, that language being, as it is stated, intelligible to the different nations represented by the scholars. In addition to the native youth, Welshmen, Irishmen, and Scots were accustomed to repair to the banks of the Isis and the Cam, and the two former of these classes—at any rate at their first coming—might have been totally ignorant of English.
The reader will hardly fail to have been struck with the occurrence of Welsh names in the foregoing pages; and the records of judicial proceedings mention the case of a Cambrian scholar, who stole a horse from the stable of an Oxford inn and decamped with it, in the company of several compatriots, to the Welsh mountains, in consequence of which the unhappy innkeeper had to defend a suit brought against him by the horse's owner! Notices of the Irish and the Scots are no less characteristic of their imputed traits. Of the presence of the former there is interesting testimony in petitions to the Crown on the part of scandalized townsmen, in one of which they set forth that "there have been murders, felonies, robberies, and riots, &c., lately committed in the counties of Oxford, Berks, Wilts, and Bucks, by persons coming to the town under the jurisdiction of the University, some of whom are the King's lieges born in Ireland and the others his enemies called 'Wylde Irisshmen'; and that these misdeeds continue daily to the scandal of the University and the ruin of the country round about; the malefactors threaten the King's officers and the bailiffs of the town, so that these last, for fear of death, dare not do their duty and collect the fee-farm, &c. Pray therefore that all Irish be turned out of the realm between Christmas and Candlemas next, except graduates in the schools, beneficed clergy in England, those who have English father or mother, or English husband or wife, and many other exceptions, persons of good repute. And that graduates and beneficed men find surety for their good behaviour."
The Scots were cordially hated. Tryvytlam's poem "De Laude Oxoniæ" has the following stanzas, which, in the opinion of some, may be still apposite to the circumstances of University and national life:
Iam loco tercio procedit acrius
Armata bestia duobus cornibus.
Hanc Owtrede reputo, qui totis viribus
Verbis et opere insultat fratribus.
Hic Scottus genere perturbat Anglicos,
Auferre nititur viros intraneos.
Sic, sic, Oxonia, sic contra filios
Armas et promoves hostes et exteros.
By "Owtrede" is intended Uthred de Bolton, a celebrated English Benedictine, whose cognomen was probably derived from the manor of Bolton in Northumberland. It was a risky thing to hail from the border, as another instance is recorded in which a North-countryman found it necessary to purge himself of the imputation of being a Scot—one of the King's enemies.
The amazing part of the matter is that national distinctions and prejudices did not, as far as the British Isles were concerned, end here. In point of fact, when the word "nations" occurs in this connexion, the allusion is generally not so much to genuine differences of descent, government, customs, and language, as to an artificial separation of the inhabitants of England into North and South countrymen. The authorities deplored this division into Boreals and Australs—"diverse nations, which, in truth, be not diverse"—but they could not ignore it, and thus it became the established rule that of the two proctors—officials supremely responsible for the peace—one should be of the North and the other of the South. As we have seen, a similar practice obtained with regard to the University chests. Just as, at the present time, Welshmen and Scotsmen gravitate towards particular colleges, so in the early days "nations" seem to have favoured certain halls, and as few of the latter were provided with chapels, they appear also to have fixed upon certain churches for the purpose of devotion of partisan display. Accordingly, about the year 1250, the following edict was fulminated with a view to checking the exuberance of the "national" spirit in sacred buildings:
"By the authority of the Lord the Chancellor and the Masters Regent, with the unanimous consent of the Non-Regent, it is decreed and resolved that no festival of any nation soever be celebrated henceforth in any church soever with the accustomed solemnity and calling together of Masters and Scholars or other acquaintances, save in so far as any may desire to celebrate the festival of any saint of his own diocese with devotion in his own parish, where he lives, but not calling the Masters and Scholars of a second parish or his own, as also is not done at the festivals of St. Katherine, St. Nicholas, and the like. This also, decreed by the authority of the same Chancellor, we enjoin to be observed, on pain of the greater excommunication, that none lead dances with masks or any noise in churches or streets, or go anywhere wreathed or crowned with a crown composed of the leaves of trees, or flowers, or what not: on pain of excommunication, which we inflict from now, and of long imprisonment do we forbid it."
In 1252 a great disturbance arose between the Northern and Irish scholars, and it was resolved that twelve persons should be chosen on either side to draw up conditions of peace. These were that thirty or forty of each party should bind themselves not to disturb the peace of the University themselves nor comfort others in doing so, and they were to give secret information to the Chancellor if they should hear of any other person transgressing. If anyone was injured, he was to appear before the Chancellor; and if the Chancellor was suspected of partiality, there were to be associated with him two assessors from either side.
In 1313 a statute was issued that no one was to stir up any nation on account of some personal injury by conspiracies, leagues, or meetings in public or private with the name or title of nation; and that when the Chancellor or his Commissary inquired concerning a breach of the peace, none was to appear with other than the witnesses needful to him; nor was any Master or other to thrust himself in, coming with a party or sitting beside the Chancellor or his Commissary, save such as the Chancellor should hold it right to summon forth, if at any time it seemed to him fit. Seeing that the names of delinquents could be better learned through the Principals of Houses, who moved continually among their associates, it was determined that every Principal, resident or acting, as well of Halls as of Chambers, should, at the beginning of every year, within fifteen days or sooner, as should seem fit to the Chancellor and Proctors, come and make corporal oath, that if they knew of any of their society holding such assemblies, or consenting with those who held them, or commonly and often naming different nations with evil zeal, or disturbing the peace of the University, or practising the art of bucklery, or keeping a whore in his house, or bearing arms or in any way promoting discord between Northerns and Southerns, he should within three days inform the Chancellor or one of the Proctors, and all such disturbers of the peace were to be punished with imprisonment. This oath the servants were bound to take at the same time; and the Chancellor and Proctors, as touching their part, acknowledged themselves to be equally bound by virtue of the statute.
In order that such distinction of nations might henceforth be detestable and hateful to all, it was resolved that the following clause should be added to the oath of every incepting Master with respect to the observance of peace.
"Item, Master, especially shall you swear that you will not hinder, as between Australs and Boreals, peace, concord, and affection; and if there shall have arisen any dissension between them, as between diverse nations, which in truth be not diverse, you will not foment or kindle it to the utmost, nor must you be present at assemblies, nor tacitly or expressly consent to them, but rather hinder them in such ways as you shall be able."
By the same statute the University was bound to intimate to the diocesan the names of all persons, whether Masters or others, who should disturb the peace of the University, and particularly as between the Northern and Southern students.
In 1428 fresh legislation was found to be necessary, and took the following form:
"Whereas there is no better way of punishing the disturbers of the peace than by a pecuniary fine, which in these days is more dreaded than anything else, therefore the following graduated scale of fines is put forth by the University. For threats and personal violence, twelve pence; for carrying of weapons, two shillings; for pushing with the shoulder or striking with the fist, four shillings; for striking with a stone or club, six shillings and eightpence; for striking with a knife, dagger, sword, axe, or other weapon of war, ten shillings; for carrying of bows and arrows, twenty shillings; for gathering of armed men and conspiring to hinder the execution of justice, thirty shillings; for resisting the execution of justice, or going about by night, forty shillings. And no Master or scholar shall take part with any other because he is of the same country, nor against him because he is of a different country; and if he be convicted of doing so, he shall incur an additional penalty graduated according to his pecuniary circumstances."
That the scholars indulged freely in the pleasant custom of hunting may, after this, be almost taken for granted. In a petition of the year 1421 complaint was made against them that they hunted with dogs and harriers in divers warrens, coningries, parks, and forests in the counties of Oxford, Berks, and Bucks, night and day, taking deer, hares, and rabbits, and menacing the wardens and keepers. Sometimes they contrived to combine their love of hunting with their love of street-fighting, as on the memorable occasion in Queen Elizabeth's reign, when the Magdalen men went deer-stealing in Shotover Forest, and one of them was sent to prison by Lord Norris, the Lord Lieutenant of the county. In revenge, the next time my Lord came to Oxford they set upon him at the Bear Inn, and, in the skirmish, several of the scholars were hurt, and "Binks," his lordship's keeper, sustained a severe wound. The Vice-Chancellor, intervening at this juncture, ordered the scholars to be confined to the college, while Lord Norris was requested to quit the University. Thereupon the former "went up to the top of their tower, and waiting till he should pass by towards Ricot, sent down a shower of stones they had picked up upon him and his retinue, wounding some and endangering others of their lives. It is said that upon the foresight of this storm divers had got boards, others tables on their heads to keep them from it, and that if the Lord had not been in his coach or chariot, he would certainly have been killed." In the sequel, the culprits were banished, and the Lord Lieutenant placated, albeit "with much ado by the sages of the University."
How on earth serious study could be pursued amidst these perpetual broils, to the engendering of which so many prejudices contributed, would be an insoluble mystery but for the probability, suggested by experience of University life in our own day, that the disturbances were confined, in the main, to the wilder spirits, though it may well be that occasionally peaceable persons were sucked into the vortex by the accident of their being abroad at the time, and on the scene of the affray, where their pacific character would receive scant consideration from the angry combatants. Esprit de corps also was a powerful incentive to action, and one from which even Masters were not exempt. To this must be added that the course of study itself seemed expressly devised to foster the belligerent temper. The air was laden with the breath of strife, as the Cambridge term "wrangler," which has survived to our day, plainly testifies.
Let us follow the "poor boy," a technical expression at Oxford, through the stages of his academic career in that University. At the outset two courses were open to his parents or guardians: either he might be sent to a religious foundation like Durham College, where he would be under no obligation to take vows, but an oath would be required of him to honour the monks and assist the electing Church, to whatever station of life it might please God to call him. Or, as was infinitely more usual, he might be settled in a secular school of grammar in charge of a recognized master.
Before the rise of colleges, the vast majority of scholars resided in halls, some of which were kept by laymen. In 1421 the King, incensed at the constant breaches of the peace, commanded that all scholars and their servants should be under the governance of some sufficient principal approved by the Chancellor and Proctors, and should not be suffered to abide in laymen's houses. In 1432 a statute set forth that, whereas the principals of halls, fearing to lose their profits, did not punish the members of their societies, still less did they dismiss them, when it was their duty to do so; nay, even provoked disturbances—the consequence, it was believed, of illiterate persons and non-graduates keeping halls—it was ordained that henceforth all principals and their deputies must be graduates. In the preamble of another statute of the same date it was complained that grave crimes were committed by so-called scholars, who, nefando nomine "chamberdekenys," lived in no hall, but slept away their days, and passed their nights in riot and debauchery, crime and violence. This irregularity it was found difficult to suppress, for on May 13, 1447, two persons feigning to be scholars and guilty of violence, having been summoned according to law throughout the schools and not appearing, were banished. The form of banishment was as follows: "A, B, C, D, frequently convicted of a monstrous disturbance of the peace, and, according to the manners and forms accustomed to be observed in this University, duly cited, publicly cried, lawfully awaited, and in no wise appearing, but contumaciously refusing to obey the law, alike on account of their contumacies and offences we do ban from this University, and from neighbouring places, admonishing firstly, secondly, and thirdly, peremptorily, that none do receive, cherish, or protect the aforesaid A, B, C, D, on pain of imprisonment and the greater excommunication to be fulminated not unjustly against all who contravene."
Matriculation involved nothing more than an oath to keep the peace, which oath had to be taken also by the servant of the scholar, supposing him to have one. If the scholar chose a non-graduate teacher, he was compelled to enter his name in the books of some master of arts, and neglect to fulfil this requirement subjected the delinquent to the loss of the protection and privileges of the University tam morte quam in vita. At the commencement of every term as well as at the end, and at other times, when need was, the grammar masters held a convenite for the purpose of arranging the course of study. Each of them had to obtain a licence, and, as a test of his qualifications, he submitted to an examination in versification, dictation, and so forth, lest, as the statute quaintly expresses it, the language of Isaiah should be verified—Multiplicasti gentem, non auxisti lætitiam.
The masters were charged with the training of their scholars in religion and morals—an onerous duty in too many cases imperfectly performed. This is shown not only by the lawlessness prevalent in the University, but by the low views and low practices that characterized methods of instruction in secular subjects. The term "lecture," as commonly understood in the Middle Ages, implied or included a catechetical system of teaching, in which the master asked and the scholar answered a series of questions. This laborious but effective mode of ascertaining and accelerating progress in knowledge was left irksome by both parties, and "ordinary" lectures—or, as we should term them, lessons—were threatened with supersession by a seductive invention known as "cursory" lectures. These appear to have been neither more nor less than lectures in the modern sense. The master delivered his discourse, and the scholar was left to gather from it what degree of enlightenment he could or would. The statute referring to the subject taxes teachers with favouring scholars in this way, for the "hope of gain," which points to corrupt dealing between them. In both its moral and intellectual aspects the practice met with scant countenance from the authorities, and, save in special cases, any master indulging in it was liable to be punished with deprivation and imprisonment for so long a period as the Chancellor, in his discretion, deemed fit. One learns from an undated statute, which, however, is probably of the thirteenth century, that grammar scholars were expected to construe in both English and French, the object being that the latter language might not be utterly forgotten. When we recall that our ancient pleadings were in Norman-French, and that a sensible proportion of the students embraced that most conservative of professions, the law, the wisdom of this course is at once evident.
The grammar schools may be regarded as the nursery of the University, but not a few of the scholars, educated in monastic and other local schools, arrived with a knowledge of Latin sufficient to dispense them from preliminary instruction in that language, for that is what is meant by "grammar." It is not perhaps quite clear whether a schoolmaster's house ranked as a hall, but, as soon as a scholar was equipped with an adequate stock of Latin to enter upon his Artist's career, he would naturally move to one of the halls tenanted by his equals in learning, thus making room for another and younger person more strictly in statu pupillari. The age at which students began their academic course in earnest averaged from twelve to fifteen—needless to say, much earlier than at present. They were required to devote four years to qualifying for the degree of bachelor; and during the former part of this period they went by the curious name of "general sophist." This, the initial, stage of University existence was terminated by an examination, then and still called Responsions, which might not be taken in less than a year, after which the student became known as a "questionist." The occasion of responding was a high day with scholars, and celebrated with such extravagant feasts that we find the Chancellor intervening to limit the expense attending them to sixteen pence. The meaning of the term "Responsions" is explained by the formula of the testamur: Quæstionibus magistrorum scholarum in Parviso respondit. The parvise, or porch, may have been symbolical of the initial stage—the early provisions of our universities are full of symbolism. By way of preparation for his examination the sophist was required to be diligent in attending disputations in the parvise, and when he presented himself for his own ordeal he had to make oath that these exercises had been duly performed.
The third stage was reached when the "questionist," as he was now, stood for his bachelor's degree. This was known as Determination, because the candidate had to determine questions in which his recent acquisitions in logic should have enabled him to appear to advantage. According to the rule, this function took place either on Ash Wednesday or on some day between Ash Wednesday and the following Tuesday. However important Responsions may have been in the eyes of the youthful student, they paled before the elaborate ceremonies of Determination. In all the two-and-thirty schools of School-street sat the Masters Regent in full academical attire, their desks before them, it having been enacted that the exercises should be carried out in the schools, not in private dwellings or in churches. The statutes forbade unfairness in proposing questions or in the manner of examining, but the candidate was, to some extent, forearmed in this matter, since he might, apparently, select his own judge. As a good audience was considered a primary necessity by the masters, in order that their talents might obtain the widest possible recognition, well-wishers seem to have gone so far as to drag into the schools reluctant passers-by—a nuisance of such frequent occurrence that it was forbidden by statute. An attempt was made also to prevent fees or robes being given to the masters, but the statute doubtless proved inoperative, and was afterwards repealed. Another custom, which the authorities vainly prohibited, and was plainly incongruous at the season of Lent, was the holding of feasts by bachelors on admission.
Before a scholar was permitted to determine, six masters at least had to testify on oath in congregation regarding his fitness in knowledge, morals, age, stature, and personal appearance. They were bound to secrecy as to the nature of their testimony, the sufficiency of which was decided by four Regent Masters of Arts, two of the North and two of the South, eight days before Ash Wednesday. On the following Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday masters and scholars appeared before the four members of the Committee; and if the testimony had been satisfactory the scholars made oath that they had completed the necessary studies, and were "admitted" to determine. Determination itself was largely a show, and had nothing to do with the attainment of the degree, of which it was rather the outward and visible sign. If the student failed to acquit himself with distinction, the only penalty to which he exposed himself was the censure or ridicule of friends and foes. Discomfiture was extremely probable, as the affair was intellectual game, in which either the master laid himself out to pose the scholar, or a brace of scholars argued (or, as the phrase then ran, "disputed") by turns, under the supervision and correction of the master.
In conformity with modern usage, we have spoken of the status of Bachelor as a degree, but originally it is doubtful if the description would have been deemed accurate. Like the Master, the Bachelor might be a teacher, but his lectures were, for the most part, of an "extraordinary" or "supernumerary" character, and not allowed to compete with the "ordinary" lectures of the Master or Doctor. The number of bachelors so privileged—instances even occur of such half-finished clerks officiating as Principals of Halls—was probably very small, and much would have depended on age. As a rule, bachelors went on with their studies as before, attending the lectures of others, until three more years had elapsed, when they became eligible for Inception. At first it seems as if the terms "Determination" and "Inception" had somehow got transposed. In reality the latter word contemplates a state or condition which was only possible or usual when the scholar, having accomplished the full course of study, finally and definitely assumed the rights and duties of Master.
The fundamental distinction underlying all academic order was that of teacher and pupil. The licentiate, it is true, may be regarded as a hybrid, and the Doctor as an overgrown master—a master and something more; but the existence of these classes only obscures what was, nevertheless, the vital and essential principle on which University discipline was organized.
We have heard of licentiates once before—as excluded from University processions. This clearly implies no small amount of prejudice against them, but ere an attempt can be made to account for it, we must understand what, exactly, a licentiate was. A licentiate, then, was a bachelor who had attended lectures for some time, had given lectures, and had been privately examined by members of his faculty. Having been presented by one of them, he had obtained from the Chancellor licence to perform certain exercises before the conventus, or meeting of the faculty, by which the degree was finally bestowed. The Chancellor's licence authorized the candidate to incept, to read (lecture), to dispute, and to do all that belonged to the rank of master as soon as he had taken the necessary steps for the purpose. The licentiate lectured in the schools, precisely like the master, for whom indeed he acted. The fee for the licence was one commons, which may represent a shilling—in any case, it was trivial. The cost of Inception, on the other hand, was very great on account of the feasts, etc., which accompanied it; and as the licentiate already enjoyed some of the privileges of the master, there was an evident temptation to put off the evil day. Security was therefore demanded from the licentiate that he would incept within a year; and, if he omitted to do so, he was fined. Nevertheless, students often remained in this category—neither fish nor fowl—beyond the allotted term, in fact, for years; and they probably furnished a considerable quota of the vagabond scholars, whose exactions have been recorded, and who certainly did not consist wholly and solely of "poor boys." One of the Cambridge statutes deals expressly with this baneful materia vagandi. These two reasons together fully explain the disfavour with which licentiates were regarded, and which ultimately led to the abolition of the status. At Cambridge it had ceased before Bedel Stokys' time (1574), for, when he wrote, the licence was given by the Proctors at the vespers, or exercises, on the day preceding Inception.
We come now to Inception, or the degree of Master of Arts. The candidate was first presented to the Chancellor and Proctors by his master, who was called upon to make oath that he believed his pupil to be qualified for admission by his morals and learning. This testimony, however, was not enough. No fewer than fourteen masters had to depose, nine that they knew, and five that they believed the candidate to be fit. He was then presented to the Chancellor and Proctors in congregation, and, with hand laid upon the Bible, swore, in a kneeling posture, that he would keep the statutes, would actually incept—we shall see what this means presently—within a year, that he would not spend more at his inception than the sum allowed, that he would neither lecture nor hear lectures at Stamford[6]—nefandum et detestabile nomen—and that he would handle the books of the library with becoming care. Having assented to these and other conditions, he received the Chancellor's licence.
It is to be noted that the Chancellor merely admitted; he did not create. This was, and at Cambridge still is, the work of the faculty—the Proctors, as representative of the Arts, or the several "fathers" in the three superior faculties, for whom the Regius Professors are now substituted, in the junior University. At Oxford, since the promulgation of the Laudian statutes, the duty has been discharged by the Vice-Chancellor. In the faculty of Grammar—the Cinderella of the faculties, which apparently did not of necessity involve any previous academical training—the Master was presented with a palmer and a rod. In Arts a cap was placed on his head, and in the higher faculties the Master or Doctor was installed in a chair and received the hat, together with the book, the ring, and the kiss of peace—the three last, perhaps, in theology alone.