CHAPTER XV.
OF THE VISITORS AT OXFORD.
Of the surrendering the city there is no need for me to write. Let itsuffice to say that, after parleys held for certain days, the articlesof agreement were signed on the twenty-third day of June, and on theday following the city was delivered over to Sir Thomas Fairfax. Iremember it by this token, that it was the feast of St. John theBaptist, and that Master Blagrove, of whom more hereafter, preachedbefore the University on that day in the Chapel of St. John's College,as the custom is. The garrison went forth with their flags flying, andall the honours of war, and many others went with them.
Of these, some had nought to do with the University, having beenbrought to Oxford by the war, and now leaving it in due course whenthey thought they might serve the King elsewhere (though, indeed, hiscause was now past help, save from the hand of God, and this was forthe time present stayed). Others left place and preferment, or theprospect of such, in their several colleges, either because from thelong use of arms to which they had been accustomed, by the siege thepursuits of peace had become flat and unprofitable, or because theywere so well known as enemies to the cause of the Parliament that theydid not venture to stay behind; or, finally, as was the case with nota few, as conceiving that their duty to the King was best doneelsewhere than in Oxford. As for myself, though not yielding to any inloyalty to his sacred Majesty, I remained where I was. To this Iconceived myself bound, not only by promise to the Lord GeneralFairfax, but also by my father's instructions, who had laid it upon meas a command that I should follow my studies so long as it should bepossible. Also I had a duty to my mother and sister which I couldscarce have paid had I departed from Oxford, to which place they were,so to speak, necessarily bound. Their chief means of living came fromthe land that had been my father's at Eynsham, and was now by lawdescended to me. That most worthy man, John Vickers, paid them hisrent (which he might easily have withheld) most honourably, notwaiting indeed for set seasons, but coming into the city on marketdays, or during the siege, whenever occasion offered, and paying, ashe thought they might have need. God reward him for his truth andkindness! There were those that called him trimmer and turn-coat andsuch ill-names, because he was friendly with them that were in power.But I say that if all men of England had been as true to what they sawof right and duty, of which, indeed, some perceive more and some less,surely things had gone better with this realm than they did.
I therefore, and many others with me, for like reason, or others thathad no less constraining power, tarried in Oxford, following our usualmanner of life, and waiting for what might ensue. And, indeed, itmattered but little to me. My Scholarship was at the best but of smallvalue, something less than three pounds by the year, and now wasfallen to about thirty shillings from defect in the revenues of theCollege, of whose tenants some lacked the ability to pay (having hadtheir farms wasted by the war), and some the will. Nor was I like toexchange it for any better preferment, being well known in my Collegeand elsewhere as a zealous King's man. Having therefore so little tolose that the very scurviest and most beggarly knave under the sunwould scarce have perjured himself to gain or to save it, I couldabide the end with a calm mind; though, indeed, I do trust I had beenno less constant had I had the best preferment in the University, theDeanery of Christ Church, to wit, or the President's place at MagdalenCollege. And I was further confirmed in this temper by the marriage ofmy sister Dorothy with Master William Blagrove, Bachelor of Divinityof St. John's College, that had lately succeeded to the vicarage ofEnstone. 'Twas an old contract between Dorothy and Master Blagrove,being first entered into in the year 1641, and now completed about thespace of a year after my father's death. Yet they thought themselvesfortunate that the end was no longer delayed. (And indeed I could namea couple of lovers that were contracted for forty and three years,expecting all the while till a certain rectory should fall vacant.)Nevertheless it may be doubted whether delay had not served thembetter. 'Tis certain that they had no small share of that trouble inthe flesh which St. Paul does prophesy to all them that were notcontent to abide single as he was. I doubt whether these prophecies,even in the mouth of an apostle, deterred many whose hearts were seton matrimony, and indeed it must be remembered there was gain as wellas loss. But of Dorothy and her husband I shall have occasion to speakagain. Meanwhile I may say so much, that she being happily married, ifit be happiness to have a learned and virtuous husband but poor inthis world's goods withal, and my mother going to live with her, I wasleft master of myself and free to act as might seem most expedient.
For a while it seemed as if nothing would be done, and some even beganto hope that all things would be suffered to continue as they were. Iindeed was not one of these, nor did I think that it would be well ifit should be so. For, indeed, the University had almost ceased to be;there were few or none that lectured, and very few to hear, hadteachers been ever so many; such as remained were much debauched bythe loose companionship which they had taken up during the war; thecolleges were half empty or rented out to laics lest they shouldaltogether fall into ruin. It cannot be doubted therefore but thatthere was need of some visitation; nor was that which followed of aharsher sort than was to be looked for. 'Tis ever the rule in thisworld that it goes ill with the conquered, and the conquerors dividethe spoil. I say not that there was no harshness used, nor none drivenout that might have been kept, not only with advantage to theUniversity, but without loss to the new rulers; but this only, thatthe victors bore themselves less haughtily and cruelly than might havebeen looked for, especially when it is considered what some of themhad themselves suffered.
_The Porch of St. Mary's Church, Oxford._]
And now to speak of what was done. In the month of May, in the year1647, came the visitors to Oxford, twenty-four in number, though ofthese not a few were content from the beginning to stand aloof fromthe business, leaving it to the management of the clerics. They madebut an ill beginning of their work. First, they delayed their comingover long after their appointment, and this they did because theParliament soldiers in Oxford, vexed at certain grievances they had inrespect of their pay and other matters, made a mutiny, so that theyfeared to show themselves. And next, on the day which they hadappointed for the University to appear before them, which was thefourth day of June, they themselves failed of their time. Theircitation to the Vice-Chancellor, Doctors and Masters was, "You shallappear before us between nine and eleven of the clock in the forenoonof the day aforesaid." So the Vice-Chancellor with the othersassembled duly in the Convocation House. But the visitors went to St.Mary's Church, where, after prayers, there was a sermon preached byMaster Robert Harris, of Magdalen Hall, who was one of them. ButMaster Harris, being full of his office, and having much to sayconcerning the iniquities of the prelatical party and the like things,was more than ordinary long in his discourse. When, therefore, theclock struck eleven and the visitors were not yet come, MasterVice-Chancellor leaves the house, the bedels with their staves, as thecustom is, walking before. And it so chanced that at this very timethe visitors were about to enter. Then cries the bedel, a bold fellowthat was afterwards resolute not to give up his staff, "Room forMaster Vice-Chancellor;" to whom the visitors, being thus takenunawares, gave place. As they passed, Master Vice-Chancellor verycivilly moved his cap to them, saying, "Good-morrow, gentlemen, 'tispast eleven of the clock," and so passed on, nor took any further heedof them.
_The Vice-Chancellor preceded by the Esquire Bedells._]
'Twould be tedious to relate all the hindrances that after this wereput in their way, how their notices and citations were torn down sosoon as they were put up, and the books which they called for were notdelivered up, so that, what with opposition from without, anddivisions within (the Independents now having the great power andbeing minded to thrust down the Presbyterians from the first place),nothing was done. Nay, though my Lord Pembroke, that was Chancellor ofthe University, came down in his own person, and stormed at theVice-Chancellor, telling him with many oaths (in whi
ch he was said tobe proficient beyond all men of his time), that the devil had raisedhim to that office, and that it was fit that he should be whipped,nay, hanged; even so they made no progress. Nor could they gainpossession of the keys of the University, for these the clerksobstinately kept (as for the register they took it by force from theRegistrar's room) and the gold and silver staves were, as I have said,denied them, so that they were sadly shorn of the dignity which shouldhave belonged to them. And this, I understand, vexed them as much asanything.
But at last, in the month of March, 1648--that is to say, nigh upontwo years after the surrender of the city--the visitors did set totheir work in earnest, and beginning with Magdalen College, demandedof every one whether he submitted to the authority of Parliament inthis present visitation. And to this demand a plain answer wasrequired. Truly it was piteous to see the straits to which honest menwere reduced, that were loath to offend their conscience and yet wouldwillingly have kept their means of livelihood. Some, especially amongthe cooks, butlers, porters, and other servants of the College,pleaded that they were ignorant and unlearned, and did not rightlyunderstand how to answer that which was demanded of them. And some ofthe younger sort pleaded their tender age why they should not answerso hard a question. Others, again, hedged themselves in with sundryconditions and reservations, if by any means they could satisfy boththeir own consciences and the visitors. Here I have transcribed someof the answers.
"I am not of the understanding (my years being so tender) to hold yourthesis which you propose, either affirmative or negative."
"Whereas very learned and judicious men have desired time, I shallthink it presumption in me to answer it extempore."
"It is beyond my weak apprehension to give you any positive answer."
"My weak capacity cannot resolve you of this so hard a question."
"I submit in all cases not exempted by oath."
"I submit so far as my oath giveth me leave."
"When I shall be satisfied in conscience that I may lawfully do it, Iwill willingly submit."
"I do submit to King and Parliament in this visitation, so far aslawfully I may."
"I do not conceive that this visitation doth at all concern me."
"Whereas" (this was made by a gentleman of Christ Church) "I, being aCommoner here, do receive no benefit from the House, but living atgreat expense, and daily expecting to be taken home by my friends, Ithink this visitation doth not concern me."
"Sirs, to acknowledge the authority of Parliament in this visitationwere to acknowledge you lawful visitors, and to acknowledge you lawfulvisitors were to say more than I know; and also to acknowledge manyvisitors, whereas I can but acknowledge one."
For myself I rather admired such answers as were given by FrancisDixon and Joseph Carricks, students of Christ Church, whereof the onesaid:
"I, Francis Dixon, shall not submit to any visitors but the King, anddo acknowledge no visitor but the King."
And the other:
"I, John Carricks, will not submit to the visitation; I will not."
And, indeed, the reservations of the others served them but little,for the visitors shut them at last to a plain "Yes" or "No."
On the seventh day of May came the visitors to Lincoln College, andset us the same question. The greater part submitted; these I namenot, nor say that they sinned against their conscience. There is Onethat judgeth, to whom they shall answer. As for me, I met the visitorswith a plain "No," and having before, as knowing what should follow,prepared all things against my departure, left Oxford that very sameday.
With the King at Oxford: A Tale of the Great Rebellion Page 16