The Customs of Old England

by F. J. Snell

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.

Inception properly signified the commencement of an active career as a teacher; and thus the new master would have taken precautions to secure a school as well as the articles of attire appertaining to his degree, including "pynsons," a kind of boot or shoe. He was also obliged to visit all the schools, invite the masters to be present on the day of inception, and provide them, one and all, with a suit of clothes. This was such a serious incubus that statutes were passed limiting such perquisites to kinsmen or members of the same hall; and it probably explains the custom of incepting for others—the rich acting for the poor. From every inceptor the bedels were entitled to a gratuity of twenty shillings and a pair of buckskin gloves, or an equivalent sum of money; and inceptors whose income amounted to forty pounds a year were compelled to feast all the Regent Masters or forfeit twenty marks to the University. The main distinction between Regent and Non-Regent Masters seems to have been that the former were perforce teachers, in which condition they were obliged to remain during the remainder of the year in which they incepted and for a twelvemonth afterwards. In the case of the Non-Regents, who had exceeded this period of probation, lecturing appears to have been optional. The Regent Master was required to devote forty days of his novitiate to disputation.