One English poem, an attempt to paraphrase the first chapter of S. John’s Gospel, fails of necessity from the impossibility of such an attempt, and Wren handles the English verse far more stiffly and uneasily than he did the Latin. What however is striking is the penmanship of the ‘Parentalia’ autograph; the writing, the capital letters, and the little flourishes are executed with a delicate finish really remarkable.
There is no date to this autograph, but the handwriting appears firmer and more regular than that of the dedication to his father, and it was probably an Oxford composition.
Christopher came up to Oxford a slight, delicate boy, with an understanding at once singularly quick and patient, readily seconded by very dexterous fingers, and keen powers of observation. He brought with him a reputation for, in the phrase of the day, ‘uncommon parts,’ and speedily showed that besides a classical education, he had acquired a strong bent for the experimental philosophy of the ‘New learning.’
Oxford, when Wren came there, was not only the seat of learning, it was a Court and a Camp as well, to which all the Royalist hearts in England turned. In the midst of these curiously differing influences, Christopher pursued his studies under the care of the ‘most obliging and universally curious Dr. Wilkins,’[45] as Evelyn calls him, a man as devoted to experiments as Christopher himself. Dean Wren had been in Bristol with his daughter and son-in-law, accompanying Prince Rupert, and on the Prince’s unexpected surrender of the town to Fairfax (1645), seems to have returned with Prince Rupert and Mr. and Mrs. Holder, either to his own living of Great Haseley, or to Mr. Holder’s at Bletchingdon.
KING CHARLES LEAVES OXFORD.
In those times no place could long be a tranquil habitation. The King’s affairs went from bad to worse, and at length the near approach of Fairfax with his victorious army made it evident that Oxford could no longer be a safe refuge for the Court. King Charles accordingly left Oxford in disguise, and, attended only by Mr. Ashburnham and Dr. Michael Hudson,[46] who was well acquainted with the lanes and byeways of the country, proceeded by Henley-on-Thames and St. Albans, to Southwell in Nottinghamshire, throwing himself on the loyalty of the Scots, then encamped at Newark. How unworthy of his confidence they proved to be, and how they finally sold him to the Parliament, are matters of history too notorious for repetition here.
Oxford, thus saved from the ruin of a siege, capitulated to Fairfax June 24, 1646, on the express condition that the University should be free from ‘sequestrations, fines, taxes and all other molestations whatsoever.’ But the Parliament was not famous for keeping its engagements, and at once proceeded to break through those made with Oxford and reduce it to the same condition as Cambridge, which they had devastated in 1642. A passage from ‘Querela Cantabrigiensis,’ which is supposed to be written by Dr. Barwick, gives some idea of what this condition was:
‘And therefore,’ he says, ‘if posterity shall ask “Who thrust out one of the eyes of this kingdom, who made Eloquence dumb, Philosophy sottish, widowed the Arts, and drove the Muses from their ancient habitation? Who plucked the reverend and orthodox professors out of their chairs, and silenced them in prison or their graves? Who turned Religion into Rebellion, and changed the apostolical chair into a desk for blasphemy, and tore the garland from the head of Learning to place it on the dull brows of disloyal ignorance?” If they shall ask “Who made those ancient and beautiful chapels, the sweet remembrances and monuments of our fore-fathers’ charity and the kind fomenters of their children’s devotion, to become ruinous heaps of dust and stones?”... ’Tis quickly answered—“Those they were, who endeavouring to share three Crowns and put them in their own pockets, have transformed this free kingdom into a large gaol, to keep the liberty of the subject: they who maintain 100,000 robbers and murderers by sea and land, to protect our lives and the propriety of our goods ... they who have possessed themselves of his majesty’s towns, navy, and magazines, to make him a glorious king; who have multiplied oaths, protestations, vows, leagues and covenants, for ease of tender consciences; filling all pulpits with jugglers for the Cause, canting sedition, atheism, and rebellion, to root out popery and Babylon and settle the kingdom of Christ:... The very same have stopped the mouth of all learning (following herein the example of their elder brother the Turk), lest any should be wiser than themselves, or posterity know what a world of wickedness they have committed.”’[47]
PHILOSOPHICAL MEETINGS.
Wadham College probably suffered less than many, as its head, Dr. Wilkins, who had married Cromwell’s sister, was very submissive to the then Government. As matters settled down somewhat at Oxford towards 1648, Dr. Wilkins, Dr. Jonathan Goddard, Dr. Wallis, Mr. Theodore Hank, who came from the desolated Palatinate, and Mr. S. Foster, the Gresham Professor of Astronomy, met together weekly, ‘to discourse and consider,’ writes Dr. Wallis, ‘(precluding theology and state affairs), of philosophical enquiries, and such as related thereunto: as physick, anatomy, geometry, astronomy, navigation, staticks, magneticks, chymicks, mechanicks, and natural experiments with the state of those studies as then calculated at home and abroad.’