The Customs of Old England

by F. J. Snell

"Given at Oxford, under the Seal of the Office of the Chancellery of the aforesaid University on the fifth day of the month of July in the fourteenth hundred and sixtieth year of our Lord."

From the wording of this letter-testimonial it would be a reasonable inference that it was granted to enable the recipient to travel to his home or some other place, but in certain cases the object may have been to replenish an exhausted purse and aid the distressed scholar to complete his academic course.

"Many," remarks Mr. A. Clark, "were in a condition of extreme poverty, which it is now difficult to recognize or even to imagine.... [They] were exempted from University and College dues, and lived from what they received from colleges or individual graduates in payment of the different menial services which they rendered." He gives a list of fifteen Oxford scholars to whom licences were accorded between 1551 and 1572, their duration varying from seven weeks to eight months. In the sixteenth century such passports had become necessary, or, at least, the absence of them, where scholars resorted to begging for a livelihood, was attended with serious risk. By the 4th section of the Act of 22 Henry VIII. c. 12: "Scolers of the Universities of Oxford & Cambrydge that goo about beggyng, not being aucthorysed under the Seale of the sayde Universities," were to be punished as idle rogues, and that punishment was far from light. This section was included in the Act of Elizabeth of 1571-2, but omitted from that of 1596-7.

Scholars were often reduced not only to beg, but to borrow; and as this method of raising money might not always have been easy, even where security was offered, a system of pledging was devised by the authorities for the benefit of impecunious members of the University, both high and low. In all essentials this department is hardly distinguishable from a pawnbroking establishment conducted under respectable auspices, but we should go sadly astray if we suffered our views of the institution to be tinged by the associations of a dingy shop in some back street in which hopeless penury plays its last shift. We should rather turn our eyes to the beatific vision of the Mons Pietatis as pictured by Botticelli—a hillock of florins, with the kneeling forms of worthy suppliants and the cloud-borne founder crowned by angelic hands. The poor scholar did not part definitely with his cherished possession; he might hope to recover it in sunnier days, and meanwhile he was enabled to tide himself over an awkward emergency. At the same time the brokers took care to make the transaction a source of profit to the University.

The earliest benefaction for the support of scholars at Oxford consisted in the annual payment of forty shillings by the townsmen in atonement for the execution of certain clerks. In the year 1219 this charge was undertaken by the Abbey of Eynsham, by which the fine was punctually disbursed to the period of its dissolution. A similar but smaller contribution was made by the Abbey of Oseney, but nothing is known as to its origin. Irregularities in the application of these funds induced the Chancellor, Robert Grosseteste, in 1240, to frame an ordinance which resulted in the creation of the "Frideswyde Chest." This treasury was the parent of many others—at the close of the fifteenth century there were as many as twenty-four—and it long remained the typical, as it was the earliest, form of scholastic benefaction, existing side by side with the foundation of colleges, to which it gave an important impetus. The management of these chests was, in all cases, practically identical. The preamble of the ordinance, by which the administration of the funds was regulated, first stated the name of the donor, and then proceeded to announce the desire of the University to requite his liberality by annual masses and celebrations. The beneficiaries also were enjoined to repeat so many "Pater Nosters" and "Aves" for the repose of his soul.

Next followed particulars of the sums that might be borrowed and those to whom they might be advanced, always on condition that a pledge of equal or greater value was first deposited by the borrower. The term within which the pledge might be redeemed was specified, as also the time at which an unredeemed pledge was to be sold after due notice had been given by public proclamation. It was usual to appoint as guardians a North and a South countryman, so as to obviate any complaints as to the allocation of the funds, and provision was made for the registration of loans and the audit of the accounts. The last chest to be founded—this was in the latter half of the sixteenth century—placed at the disposal of the University a sum raising the total amount to not less than two thousand marks; and the capital, not merely the interest, was available for the relief of embarrassed scholars. The pledges were valued by the sworn stationer of the University, and that they were expected to exceed in value the amount of the loan is shown by the terms of ordinances, in some of which the guardians are required to submit to the auditors an account of the capital and increase. In spite of precaution, however, cases of peculation were not unknown, for, on more than one occasion, guardians were accused of embezzlement, and there are statutes complaining of the "marvellous disappearance" of funds, the property of the University, and safeguarding their future administration.

The chests were divided into two categories—the "Summer" and the "Winter." This distinction seems to have been due to the date of the election of the guardians. In this matter, however, there was considerable variation, and in later ages the stipulations of the ordinances, in which the bequests were embodied, ceased to be observed. Another circumstance which deserves notice is that in the reforms instituted in the time of Archbishop Laud nearly all traces of this benevolent system were obliterated, and the names of founders—John Pontysera, Bishop of Winchester, Gilbert Routhbury, Philip Turville, John Langton, W. de Seltone, Dame Joan Danvers, etc.—consigned to the shades of academic oblivion. During the period when the funds were employed in conformity with the testator's design, the authorities, in their wisdom, ignored limitations of age, birth, and neighbourhood, and thus any member of the University, sophist or questionist, bachelor or master, was entitled to a share of the benefit. This wide charity cannot have met with unanimous approval. Large as the fund was, it would hardly have sufficed for the needs of every ill-clothed and ill-fed scholar; and, in the distribution of the money, it would be only in accord with common experience of human nature if an enterprising official, whose eagerness had outstripped his resources, should be preferred to some pinched, obscure stripling, and receive a wholly disproportionate share of the eleemosynary grant.

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.