THE PORTER’S LODGE AND CHEYNEY COURT.
Nearly opposite we saw a number of college boys streaming into a small confectioner’s shop. Inside sat a young lady in a cage. I had always felt that the fair possessed potent charms, but I never before knew of one who was obliged to be protected in this way. We soon learned, however, that the wire was put up for the preservation of other sweets, and because some of the boys had been studying Dr. Smiles’ work on “Self-help.”
Sustern Spytal.
On the same side we came to one of the College houses, with an iron railing in front of it; this was the site of the ancient nunnery,[51] the Sustern Spytal. Here were afterwards the “Commoners,” or boys not on the foundation, and now are class-rooms. It has been said that there was no fosse along this part of the city wall; but in the French map of 1650, one is marked as existing. The question is doubtful.
Wykeham.
And now we arrive at the famous College, and, as in duty bound, pay a passing tribute to its founder. Wykeham was of yeoman birth, of comely person, and had a strain of noble blood in him, from his mother’s family. He was educated at a little old school on St. Giles’ slope, which boasted that it had numbered among its pupils Athelwolf and Alfred the Great. No doubt, he attended to his lessons, for we find him while still a youth, appointed to be secretary to the Governor of the Castle. This was the happy accident in Wykeham’s life; without it, though he had a genius for architecture and geometry, and was a rare draughtsman, he might have remained in obscurity. The governor, De Scures, knew Bishop Edington—himself a builder—and both knew the King. They introduced Wykeham to him, and from that moment, at twenty-three years of age, his career was assured.
“He was one of those men,” observed Mr. Hertford, “whom fortune carries to the top of the ladder without asking them to walk up the rounds.”
“So it appears,” I continued. “He took, as many of his day, the priest’s office that he might eat a piece of bread, and soon had it richly buttered. Not only did he become ‘a pretty considerable pluralist’ and a bishop, he was also made Surveyor of the King’s castles and palaces, Keeper of the Privy Seal, Secretary to the King, and Chancellor. In short, he was the leading spirit in the country, and ‘everything was done by him, and without him nothing.’”
“But I have read somewhere that he had a fall,” said Mr. Hertford, “and was obliged to appeal to Alice Perrers. Imagine the grave bishop in his long robes, bowing down to Edward’s impudent little favourite! Perhaps his words were golden on this occasion, for she said she would go and see whether a spark of love for her remained in the old king. And the spark did remain, and its light was sufficient to guide Wykeham back to his temporalities.”