A History of the Cambridge University Press, 1521-1921

by S. C. Roberts

to assign and elect from time to time, by writing under the seal of the Chancellor of the University, three stationers and printers, or sellers of books, residing within the University, who might be either aliens or natives, and hold either their own or hired houses. The stationers or printers thus assigned, and every of them, were empowered to print all manner of books approved of by the Chancellor or his vicegerent and three doctors, and to sell and expose to sale in the University or elsewhere within the realm, as well such books as other books printed within or without the realm, and approved of by the Chancellor or his vicegerent and three doctors. If aliens, these stationers or printers were empowered to reside in the University, in order to attend to their business, and were to be reputed and treated as the King's faithful subjects and lieges, and to enjoy the same liberties, customs, laws, and privileges; and to pay and contribute to lot, scot, tax, tallage, and other customs and impositions as the other subjects and lieges of the King. Provided, that the said stationers or printers, being aliens, paid all customs, subsidies, and other monies, for their goods and merchandizes imported or exported, as other aliens[15].

This is the Magna Carta of Cambridge printing and Fuller quotes with quiet pride the opinion of Sir Edward Coke that "this University of Cambridge hath power to print within the same 'omnes' and 'omnimodos libros' which the University of Oxford hath not."

We should now expect to see a steady continuance of university printing. But, in spite of the King's letters patent, the history of Cambridge printing for nearly fifty years is a blank. It is true that the university immediately availed itself of the privilege conferred upon it, and the "three stationers and printers or sellers of books residing within the university" who were appointed were Nicholas Speryng, Garrett Godfrey, and Segar Nicholson, whose careers have been sketched above. That two of these were bookbinders and churchwardens, that one owned a brewery, and that one took holy orders we have evidence, but of printing there is no trace. The strangest appointment is that of Nicholson, since the aim of the university in petitioning Wolsey for the control of printing and bookselling was the suppression of those Lutheran doctrines for which Nicholson had recently been imprisoned.

But it is clear that, for a time at any rate, the university, while showing no desire to encourage the art of printing, was quick to establish its control and censorship of books.

Some idea of a university bookseller's stock at this time may be obtained from the will of Nicholas Pilgrim[16], appointed in 1539 as successor to Garrett Godfrey, from whom he inherited a "furryd gown and iij presses with a cuttynge knife." Of the 717 books of which an inventory is given in Pilgrim's will 216 were bound and 501 unbound, the whole stock being valued at £26 11s 6d. Most of the books are either editions of the classics or theological works, but there are a few on medical and botanical subjects.

But like Richard Noke, appointed in 1540, and Peter Sheres (1545-6) Pilgrim appears to have been university printer only in name.

At the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, when all unlicensed printing was prohibited, the powers of the chancellors of the universities to license books were duly recognised and in 1576, when John Kingston was appointed as printer, the university seems definitely to have contemplated the establishment of a printing-press:

On the 18th of July, Lord Burghley wrote from Theobalds to Dr Goad Vicechancellor and the Heads, with reference to their intention of bringing the exercise of printing into the University, for which purpose they had engaged one Kingston of London, whom they purposed to protect with the University privilege to print Psalters, Books of Common Prayer, and other books in English, for which the Queen had already granted special privileges to William Seres, Richard Jugge, John Day, and others. His Lordship disapproved of any attempts to prejudice the Queen's grants, but thought they might employ an artificer for printing matters pertaining to the schools &c.[17]

In the light of this pronouncement it is easy to understand why John Kingston, who was well-known as a London stationer, printed no books in Cambridge.