1646.
Phases of conflict, similar to those in the case of Cambridge, may be recognized with greater distinctness in the case of Oxford. We have seen already, from our account of the military occupation of the latter University by the King, that it assumed an attitude of determined defiance towards the Parliament. What would be figurative in reference to Cambridge is perfectly literal in reference to Oxford. Colleges became barracks, and gownsmen soldiers. The University therefore could not be regarded as otherwise than in a state of rebellion against the Parliament—now actually the supreme power. Consequently, when the city was taken, the University was treated as a conquered enemy. To demand subscription and fealty was the least thing which the conquerors could do. To remove from office those who were disaffected was but a measure of common prudence. Besides, such a state of demoralization had come over the whole institution,[620] and war had so driven away learning and discipline, that reformation was imperative. Accordingly, in September, 1646, Commissioners went down to Oxford. Citations were issued requiring officers, fellows, and scholars, to appear at the Convocation House, between the hours of nine and eleven o'clock in the forenoon. The Presbyterian visitors had worship, and a sermon, which detained them till nearly eleven. A story is related, that the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Fell, had the clock put forward, so that it struck the hour before the Commissioners arrived. At all events, as the latter were coming in, they were met by the University authorities going out, the beadle in attendance, exclaiming, "Make way here for Mr. Vice-Chancellor." The visitors did so, when Mr. Vice-Chancellor moving his hat, passed by them, saying, "How do ye, gentlemen, 'tis past eleven o'clock." After this indignity a new Commission was appointed, but the visitors on the second occasion fared no better than their predecessors. Their orders were not only disobeyed, but also "despised and contemned." The heads of Colleges asked, by "what authority they were summoned;" and resolutely refused to give up books and papers, the keys of the Convocation House, and the beadles' staves. The Proctors protested against the citation they had received as illegal, and claimed to be exclusively under the authority of the King and his visitors. Patiently persisting in the assertion of its own power, Parliament allowed the malcontents to be heard by counsel; after which, their answer was pronounced an insult to the authority of the two Houses. Fell was then declared to have forfeited, by his contumacy, the deanery of Christ Church; but the declaration, when posted on the walls of that establishment was torn down and trampled under foot. Mrs. Fell also gave much trouble, and being imbued with an obstinacy like her husband's, had to be forcibly carried out in her chair, by the hands of the soldiers, into the quadrangle. Possession could not be taken of Magdalen, All Souls, and other Colleges, without breaking open the doors.[621]
University of Oxford.
There, as in Cambridge, notwithstanding the virulence of the opposition, some of the Parliamentarian party were willing to wink at evasions of the Covenant. Isaak Walton tells a story of some one who, "observing Dr. Morley's behaviour and reason, and enquiring of him, and hearing a good report of his morals, was therefore willing to afford him a peculiar favour." He proposed that Morley should ride out of Oxford as the visitors rode in, and not return until they left again, undertaking to secure for him his canonry without molestation. The kind offer, though gratefully acknowledged, was respectfully declined.[622]
An instance of practical gratitude may also be mentioned in connexion with the Oxford ejectment. Dr. Laurence, Master of Baliol, and Margaret professor, had, during the wars, shewn marked kindness to Colonel Valentine Walton, an officer in the Parliament army, who had been taken prisoner after Edge Hill fight, and confined at Oxford—the prisoner being indebted to the professor for his release. The obligation thus contracted, Walton repaid when Laurence suffered ejectment. He settled on his friend a little chapelry called Colne, in the parish of Somersham in Huntingdonshire, augmenting its value by adding to it the tithes of Colne. This benefice Laurence had become qualified to enjoy, by receiving a certificate of the Oxford Commissioners, to the effect, that he had engaged to observe the Directory in all ecclesiastical administrations—to preach practical divinity to the people—and to forbear teaching any opinions which the reformed church condemned.[623]
1646.
After the University in general had been subdued, a few scholars continued incorrigible. They abused the new authorities, and scattered about the streets scurrilous tracts, entitled, "Pegasus taught to dance to the tune of Lachryme"—"The Owl at Athens"—"The Oxford tragi-comedy," and many more.[624] At last, a serjeant, attended by a file of musqueteers, published before all the College gates by beat of drum a proclamation, that if any persons expelled by the visitors should persist in remaining within the precincts of the University, they should be taken into custody. And a few days afterwards another proclamation appeared, to the effect that if any of the proscribed individuals tarried within five miles of the city, he should be deemed a spy, and be punished with death. This was enough. Oxford was soon cleared of its obnoxious inmates. Probably the University had been encouraged in its resistance by the knowledge of the differences existing between the Parliament and the army. These differences had become so serious, and had been brought so near, that some of the soldiers in the Oxford garrison, sympathizing with the army at head quarters, refused to obey the order of Parliament. Like King Charles, the University hoped to escape under cover of the strife between the two parties who had become their conquerors. In that hope, however, the University, like the King, proved to be mistaken.
University of Oxford.