It has nothing ado therewith, God wate,
Nor na mare like than the Devil and Sanct Austin.
There is also an imperfect copy of that remarkable work, the “Golden Legend”—the first attempt to render hagiology amenable to the laws of reason and decency, and which from its containing a translation into English of the whole of the Pentateuch, and a great part of the Gospels, became one of the principal instruments in preparing the way for the Reformation. The first edition of the work was printed by Caxton in folio 1483–4, the Stonyhurst copy is of the date 1493, and must, therefore, be the third, the one generally accepted as having issued from the press of Wynkyn de Worde, and of which only nine copies are known to exist. A singularly interesting relic, screened in a glass case, is a small prayer-book which tradition affirms to be the identical one that Mary Queen of Scots carried with her to the scaffold when she was beheaded. It is said to have been given by her confessor to the library at Douay; subsequently it was transferred to the college at Liege, from which place it found its way to Stonyhurst when its owners removed there. It is remarkable for the sharpness and beauty of the type, which bears a close resemblance to the court-hand of the Tudor period, as well as for the richness of the binding. The cover is of crimson silk velvet, embossed, with the words “Maria” and “Regina” in silver gilt capitals, with the arms of France and England quartered, and a crown, rose, and pomegranate. If this book ever belonged to the Queen of Scots there is good reason to believe that it must previously have been owned by her kinswoman and namesake, Mary of England, for the reason that the pomegranate was the emblem of Spain, and one of the badges of Catherine of Arragon, and Mary herself used as a device the pomegranate and rose combined.
Another feature of the library is the collection of ancient illuminated missals, the largest and probably the most beautiful in the kingdom. There is also a copy of the Gospel of St. John, believed to have been transcribed in the seventh century, and said to have been found in the tomb of St. Cuthbert in Durham Cathedral, and a MS. copy of the Homilies of Pope Gregory, attributed to Simon, Abbot of St Albans, in the twelfth century. In another room is the valuable collection of books presented to the college in 1834 by the Lady Mary Ann, widow of James Everard, tenth Lord Arundell of Wardour, and numbering about five thousand volumes.
The contents of the museum at Stonyhurst are many and varied; some are ancient, some modern, some of great historic interest, and some, it may be said, of little or no interest at all. To learn what they are we must yield ourselves and listen auribus patulis to the descriptions of our courteous cicerone, who is familiar with the history and uses of each and all. Here we find displayed the cap, rosary, seal, and reliquary of that impersonation of goodness and incorruptibility, Sir Thomas More, and near it a fragment of chain mail taken from one of the dusky warriors of King Theodore; porphyry from the ruins of ancient Carthage, and pistols that played a part in the fight at Navarino; chips from the cedars of Mount Lebanon, and prize cups of silver awarded to shorthorns of the Stonyhurst breed, for be it known that Papal bulls are not the only ones with which the Jesuit Fathers at Stonyhurst have concerned themselves. Now our attention is drawn to the seals of James the Second and Fenelon, and to a quaint old jewel case of lapis lazuli once possessed by Queen Christina of Sweden; and anon to the tobacco pouch of a Sioux Indian; next we are shown a huge rusty key that belonged to the far-famed abbey of Bolton, and an antique gold ring turned up by the plough near Hoghton Tower some years ago with the arms of Langton on the seal, and the motto “De bon cuer” on the inner side, and that, for aught we know, may have been dropped at the time of that lawless foray in 1589 which cost Thomas Hoghton, the builder of Hoghton Tower, his life, and lost the manor of Lea to the proud family of the Langtons. Here is a bit of masonry brought from one of the Holy Places, and there a bullet taken from the body of a British soldier at Sebastopol. Indian bows and arrows, swords, spears, and other implements of warfare are exposed to view, with grim relics from Waterloo, the Crimea, and Lucknow, that call up mingled memories of bloodshed and bravery. Many of the curiosities are deposited in glass cases to protect them from the touch of the vulgar or profane; there are ivory carvings of wonderful workmanship; crucifixes, triptychs, and devotional tablets; ancient bronzes, Papal medals, seals, and coins of every nation under the sun, sufficient in number and variety to turn the head of a numismatist and set the student of history a-thinking of the changes the whirligig of time has brought about, and the dynasties that have risen and passed away since they received the impresses they still display.
From the library we return through the dining-hall to an apartment named, from its proportions, the Long Room, occupied chiefly as a museum of natural history. Tables run the entire length, filled with geological and mineralogical specimens illustrative of every epoch in the world’s history; precious stones of every hue; fossil remains and skeletons of creatures of various kinds; delicately-tinted shells, and eggs of every shape and size; butterflies, beetles, and birds the splendour of whose plumage would defy the painter’s art to imitate, many of them the gift of a former student of the college, the distinguished naturalist and genial, hospitable, and cultivated gentleman, Charles Waterton. Another room is fitted up with mechanical appliances, models of steam engines, &c., and adjoining it is one devoted to the purposes of a laboratory.
One of the great attractions of the place is the Sodality Chapel, as it is called, devoted to the use of the students whilst “saying their office,” small, but a very marvel of architectural skill and decorative art. As we pass through the ante-chapel our attention is arrested by a large plaster model of Auchterman’s celebrated sculpture, the Dead Christ supported by the Virgin, placed there to commemorate the services of Father Clough, who for a period of twelve years was rector or principal of the college. The Sodality Chapel was erected in 1856 from the designs of Mr. C. A. Buckler, of Oxford. It is Gothic in character of the 15th century period, and is remarkable for the elaborate carving and sculpture, and the profuse decoration in polychrome displayed. There is an apsidal termination lighted by three two-light windows with oak traceried panelling carried round; the altar has wreathed columns of alabaster, and the reredos is of stone and alabaster, with a statue of the Virgin in the centre, surmounted by a richly-decorated canopy. The windows are filled with stained glass, the work of Hardman, of Birmingham. Close to this beautiful example of Gothic art is the Community Chapel, in which the students attend mass every morning.
As previously stated, there is another church connected with the institution, St Peter’s, erected nearly half a century ago, and of much larger dimensions, being intended for the use of the neighbourhood as well as that of the inmates of the college. It will accommodate about 1,500 worshippers, and, considering the date of its erection, will bear favourable comparison with many of the Gothic structures of more recent years. Painting, carving, and sculpture have been freely employed, with everything that could add to that architectural effect the love of which forms so distinguishing a feature of the Roman Church. The interior, with its spacious nave, its “long drawn” aisles, its lofty arches, and its elegant oak-panelled roof, has a very imposing appearance. The high altar has a reredos behind, rich in carving, and above is a magnificent window divided into five lights with a traceried head, and subdivided by double transoms into fifteen compartments, each filled with the image of one of the apostles or saints in stained glass, while the storied windows of the clerestory “shoot down a stained and shadowy stream of light.” Within the sanctuary are two niches occupied with statues of SS. Peter and Paul, and we also noticed two coloured frescoes, the work of Wurm and Fischer, of Munich, the one representing Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the order, administering the communion to his first missionary companions, and the other, St. Francis Xavier, “the apostle of India and Japan,” who threw around the society the lustre of poetry in action, and “the mists of the wonderful, if not the dignity of historic heroism,” preaching to the Indians, some of whom are represented as breaking their idols in his presence.
The college chapel, as we have said, is situated near the south-west angle of the main structure. Occupying very nearly a corresponding position at the north-west side is the hospital, connected with the main building by a broad corridor, the walls of which are hung with portraits and engravings.
Any notice of Stonyhurst would be incomplete that did not make mention of the gardens and pleasure grounds. Though somewhat diminished in size by the additions made from time to time to the college buildings, they remain pretty much in the same stiff and formal style in which they were laid out a couple of centuries ago. They are pleasant in themselves and pleasantly situated, commanding as they do a widespread view of the surrounding country, a country rich in everything that can beautify or adorn the landscape. A curious feature noticeable is the lofty, solid, well-trimmed walls of yew which extend in various directions. Though more remarkable for their quaintness than their natural beauty, they furnish a pleasant shade for the students, and have a certain air of antiquity that well accords with the surroundings. In one part of the grounds is a large circular bowling green, on the edge of which is placed the Roman altar found among some rubbish in the neighbourhood in 1834, and evidently the one found at Ribchester which Camden saw in 1603. It originally bore an inscription setting forth that it was dedicated by a Captain of the Asturians to the mother-goddesses, but this can now only in part be deciphered, the greater portion of the lettering having become obliterated by exposure to the weather. The following is Camden’s rendering:—