Part 9
For the beginnings of Christ’s College we must go back to the year 1436. William Bingham, Rector of St John Zachary in the city of London, founded a small hostel or Grammar College in connection with Clare, and placed it on a site which is now occupied by the western part of King’s College Chapel and a portion of the great court of King’s. Four years later, Henry VI.’s great experiment forced Bingham to seek other quarters, which he eventually found in Preachers’ Street, the thoroughfare leading from the Barnwell Gate to the Dominican Friary. Here he re-founded his college under the picturesque name of God’s House, which it had already borne in its former position. But, like so many similar institutions, its revenues languished. Bingham’s society was to consist of a master with the title of Proctor, and of twenty-four scholars. By the beginning of the sixteenth century, the house maintained only four scholars besides the Proctor. There is a story that the great John Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, was bred at this hostel; and that his affection for it was the cause which moved him to bring its destitution to the notice of his friend, Lady Margaret Beaufort. It is, at all events, more than certain that Fisher, who guided his patroness in her pious resolves, called her attention to the case, and so laid the foundation, as it were, of Christ’s and St John’s. There is no satisfactory evidence as to the time at which she conceived the idea of founding St John’s. Probably, the notion of a college had taken her fancy long before, and it is not unlikely that the opportunity of founding two colleges presented itself at one time. At any rate, her first work was to re-establish God’s House in 1505. The task of converting St John’s Hospital into St John’s College required several years of preliminaries and formalities. But in God’s House she had a college already to her hand. Henry VI. had apparently promised Bingham some compensation for the removal of the house, but the greater work of founding King’s and the civil troubles which soon engrossed the crown had prevented him from fulfilling his promise. The Lady Margaret, devoted to the memory of the “royal saint,” endowed the society on the scale approved by him, and provided funds for the maintenance of a master, twelve fellows and forty-seven scholars. And “from her singular devotion to the name of Jesus Christ”—the same motive which had prompted Alcock to call his foundation Jesus College—she founded the college under the invocation of Christ. We have thus two colleges at Cambridge which recall the popular devotion of the Name of Jesus, then lately established and approved.
It may or may not be true that the foundress had rooms reserved for her use in the Master’s Lodge. The story seems contrary to the spirit of that age or of any other, but a point may have been stretched in her favour. The testimony for this legend rests upon an anecdote told by Fuller. “The Lady Margaret,” he says, “once … came to Christ’s College to behold it when partly built, and looking out of a window, saw the dean call a faulty scholar to correction, to whom she said ‘lente, lente,’ gently, gently, as accounting it better to mitigate his punishment than to procure his pardon; mercy and justice making the best medley to offenders.” This is scarcely sufficient authority for the tradition. There are no less than four portraits of the Lady Margaret in the college, the best of which is perhaps that at the west end of the chapel, closely resembling the picture in the hall at St John’s. The Combination Room also contains a portrait of Bishop Fisher, and both these pious friends of learning are commemorated in the oriel of the Hall. From the foundation of the college onwards, its history has been peaceful and comparatively uneventful. In its early years, it seems to have anticipated the lodging-house system, for we are told that some of the scholars were lodged in the Brazen George, an inn opposite the college, and that the doors of this hostelry were closed and opened at the same time as the doors of the college.
Leland the antiquary and Hugh Latimer were among the earlier members of the college. But the history of Christ’s is centred in one event, the seven years’ residence of John Milton, who entered as a pensioner in 1625, and went down with his Master’s degree in 1632. “John Milton of London,” the entry runs in English “son of John Milton, was initialed in the elements of letters under Mr Gill, Master of St Paul’s School; was admitted a lesser pensioner Feb. 12th, 1624 [O.S.] under Mr Chappell, and paid entrance fee 10s.” Mr Chappell, on the authority of Dr Johnson, is said to have flogged the poet. “There is reason to believe that Milton was regarded in his college with no great fondness. That he obtained no fellowship is certain, but the unkindness with which he was treated was not merely negative.” Milton himself says enough to make the truth of this statement at least doubtful; for his language, ten years after his departure from Cambridge, is not merely the language of a man who had forgotten old grudges, but breathes a lively affection for his college. The flogging possibly took place; the University was then nothing but a large public school, and each college was a separate boarding-house. Milton, when he went up, was just sixteen, and boys of sixteen are not past flogging. If he went down without a fellowship, he was surely, in spite of that, a most promising student. His Latin verses, which we still read as we read Ovid and Propertius, are the finest poetry, and not mere academical exercises; his skill in Italian marks a degree of culture unknown even in that Italianised age. In addition to his scholarship, he possessed extraordinary personal beauty, which gives him among poets something of that eminence possessed by Raffaelle among painters. We are told that he was called the “Lady of the College.” And, while at Christ’s, he wrote some of his most lasting works, including the famous Hymn on the Nativity, which was written in 1629. His verses on Hobson, the University carrier, are well known, and _Lycidas_, the elegy on his college friend, Edward King, appeared at Cambridge in 1637. His noble _Verses at a Solemn Musick_, containing some of the finest and most imaginative lines in English, belong to this early period. The master under whom his residence took place was Dr Thomas Bainbrigge, master from 1620 to 1645. Cromwell had gone down from Sidney before Milton came up to Christ’s, but he was still in the neighbourhood of Cambridge. Milton’s mulberry-tree, the Palladium of the college, may or may not be Milton’s; but to believe the tradition does no violence to our faith. The memory of Milton had a more than usually potent influence on another poet, Wordsworth.
Among the band of my compeers was one Whom chance had stationed in the very room Honoured by Milton’s name. O temperate Bard! Be it confest that, for the first time, seated Within thy innocent lodge and oratory, One of a festive circle, I poured out Libations, to thy memory drank, till pride And gratitude grew dizzy in a brain Never excited by the fumes of wine Before that hour, or since.
And this, from internal evidence, must have been on a winter Sunday afternoon before chapel! For the inebriated poet, always a sad idler at Cambridge, had to run back “ostrich-like” to chapel, where he arrived late and, full of wine and Milton, swaggered up to his place through “the inferior throng of plain Burghers.” Here was a young gentleman who deserved flogging!
But the presence of Milton must not allow us to forget the band of contemplative scholars and philosophers who, in his time, were the ruling influence in the college, and now lie beneath the chapel floor. The course of the reformed and Puritan doctrines was largely determined by the study of Platonic philosophy, just as the Aristotelian system had allied itself to Catholic theology. Platonism in Cambridge is the result of two opposing forces: on the positive side, the teaching of Erasmus; on the negative side, the publication of Hobbes’ _Leviathan_ in 1651. This book received many reputations from Cambridge men; two of the best known are the work of Dr Bramhall of Sidney, Bishop of Derry and afterwards Primate of Ireland, and of Dr Cumberland of Magdalene, the painful Bishop of Peterborough. But the most effective opposition to Hobbes’ materialistic and mathematical science came from Christ’s. The first of the Cambridge Platonists was the meditative Mede, who died in 1638. He was a fellow of the college in Milton’s time, and spent his days in wandering about the college backs and fields, absorbed in mystical speculation, of which the eventual outcome was his work on the Apocalypse. In the evening, members of the college would resort to his rooms, and he would ask them “_Quid dubitas?_ What doubts have you met in your studies to-day?” and, having heard their answers, would set their minds at rest and dismiss them with prayer. But Mede was scarcely so remarkable as Henry More, the author of the _Mystery of Godliness_ and other books, who devoted his life at Cambridge to Platonic speculations, and even extended his enquiries to the Neo-Platonic writers and the Hebrew Cabala. Ralph Cudworth* was three years his junior, and survived him one year. This man, the greatest of the company, was Master of Clare for some time, and, in 1654, became Master of Christ’s, where he remained, unmoved by the Restoration, till his death in 1688. He was the most powerful of Hobbes’ adversaries, and his _True Intellectual System of the Universe_, published in 1678, is a fairly convincing counterblast to the _Leviathan_. However, Cudworth was rather a talented pedant than a genius: he lessened the value of his work by recondite allusions, and his critical capacity was impaired by prejudice. But, in that age of laborious theology, Cudworth’s book deserves a position next to, although far below, Leighton’s commentary on St Peter.
It is a somewhat melancholy fact that the only other poet of whom Christ’s can boast besides Milton is that master of tortured conceits, Francis Quarles. Curiously enough, the portrait, probably of Quarles, in the Combination Room, which bears the motto “Nec ingratus nec inutilis videar vixisse” was at one time supposed to be that of Milton. But the college has had eminent students in other departments. Dr Seth Ward,* a little younger than Milton, is known as the Bishop of Salisbury during the time of James II. and the Revolution. In 1766, at the age of twenty-three, William Paley* was elected a fellow, and remained at Cambridge for ten years. Paley’s early life is said to have been careless and riotous. One morning, however, when lying late in bed, a friend and boon-companion came into his room, and treated him to what is sometimes known as a “straight talk.” This admonition awakened Paley’s conscience, and led in time to the publication of the famous _Evidences of Christianity_ and to the Archdeaconry of Carlisle. In all probability, no historical name is so often on the undergraduate’s lips—not always with blessings—as the name of this reclaimed ne’er-do-weel. The _Evidences_, as is well known, form part of the subjects for the Previous Examination or Little-Go, and have in this capacity given birth to an especial department of literature in the shape of “Paley Sheets” and other _précis_ of the heavy work. A less logical but more human theologian was John Kaye,* master from 1814 to 1830, and Bishop successively of Bristol and Lincoln.
If, among statesmen, Christ’s can put forward Lord Liverpool, famous for his interminable ministry of more than twenty years, she has had in science, a son who is as famous in his branch of study as Milton is in poetry. This was Charles Robert Darwin (* Ouless) who came up to Christ’s in the twenties with the intention of taking holy orders. At Cambridge, however, he found such opportunities for research that he abandoned his design, and, at the recommendation of Professor Henslow, who then held the botanical chair, went out as naturalist to the _Beagle_. This was the beginning of his scientific career and of the revolution in biological science which he effected. A tablet with his profile in relief has been placed in the room occupied by him, which is at present occupied by the Norrisian Professor of Divinity, Dr Armitage Robinson. To-day Christ’s not only claims as its master Dr John Peile, the eminent classical philologist, but the greatest of living scholars who have devoted themselves to the study of their own language—the editor of Langland and Chaucer, Professor Skeat. And Cambridge men will always remember with pleasure that Christ’s was the college of the most pleasant of all English versifiers, Charles Stuart Calverley (then Blayds) who not only, by his light verses, added to the gaiety of the nation, but, by his translation of Theocritus, increased the range of English poetry.
XIV
ST JOHN’S COLLEGE
The first court of St John’s is almost as composite as the Great Court of Trinity, and the want of harmony between its parts is rather painfully evident. The chapel, however, is the only important extension of the original plan as carried out by the Lady Margaret’s executors, and the rest of the court survives with certain changes. The gateway of the college is one of the gate-towers so characteristic of Cambridge, and is perhaps the most beautiful of all. One of the great advantages of St John’s is that it is built of red brick, which, with time, has assumed a mellow appearance; and thus it is, in certain respects, one of the most picturesque colleges in the University. The court and tower belong to 1520. Above the doorway, on the street side, are the arms of Lady Margaret, supported by the Beaufort antelopes, on a ground in which the daisy, the foundress’ punning emblem, occurs very lavishly. Although much obliterated by time, this is still a very good piece of heraldic sculpture. Other familiar signs, which the least archæological undergraduate learns to recognise, are the Tudor rose and Beaufort portcullis. Above this elaborate armorial display is a figure of St John the Evangelist, added in 1662. Lady Margaret’s statue is to be found in an ugly niche over the entrance to the Hall screens; it is in a pseudo-classical taste, and exaggerates her pious emaciation of feature.
The Hall has been altered a good deal, but it is an interesting apartment, long, dark and narrow, like a conventual refectory. Its darkness is due partly to the fine wainscoting, which is of the linen-pattern, partly to the deep colours of the heraldic windows, whose interest is historical rather than artistic. The fresco of the upper part is not very successful. At the end of the hall is a curious portrait of the foundress, in the manner of Lucas van Heere, which bears comparison with her picture in Christ’s. She is supported by full-length portraits of Archbishop Williams and Ralph Hare, benefactors to the college. One of the most interesting pictures is the well-known portrait of Wordsworth by Pickersgill; and the modern portrait of Professor Palmer in full Arab attire (John Collier) usually attracts comment. St John’s Hall is not rich in portraits, a deficiency which is remedied by the collection at the Lodge.
No other college unfolds its architectural history in so leisurely a way as St John’s. We pass from the first to the second court, from 1520 to 1598. In the latter year, Ralph Symons, who was supplying Dr Nevile at Trinity with designs, began to build this beautiful quadrangle. Mary Cavendish, Countess of Shrewsbury, is the benefactress to whom the college is indebted, and her statue occupies the niche over the gate-tower between this and the third court. Some will have it that this is the best piece of contemporary building in Cambridge, and it certainly has a peculiar charm, due to its studious, sober air. The sole ornaments of this gabled enclosure are the two charming oriels in the centre of the north and south side, and the gate-tower, which is not unlike the similar tower at Hampton Court. Along the first floor of the north side of the court runs the long gallery, once a part of the Master’s Lodge, but now the Combination Room. It is the best Combination Room in Oxford or Cambridge. At present it is divided into two parts by a wainscoting, but this hinders the general effect very little. The plastered ceiling is very richly ornamented with pendants and formal arabesques, and has much in common with other splendid ceilings of the same date. When the doors of the inner room and of the library beyond are both open, an incomparable vista is obtained, and the two apartments are transformed into a single gallery.
As a matter of fact, a landing, approached from the second court by a picturesque oak staircase, separates the Combination Room from the Library, which occupies the whole north side of the somewhat gloomy third court. Over the door are the arms of Lord Keeper Williams, impaled on the coat of his see of Lincoln. This famous prelate contributed entirely to its erection, and his initials and the date 1624 are lettered in white stone outside the western oriel. It was completed in 1628, and remains unaltered, a very charming specimen of Italian Gothic. Its interior, with its high timber roof and fine bookcases, is the _beau idéal_ of a library interior. There are two stories: the upper contains the valuable collection of ancient books and the bequests of various benefactors such as Matthew Prior, the lower is devoted to more modern books. The rest of the court was not built till 1669, and is therefore a little later than the buildings at Clare, with which it has some affinity. Its western gateway and cloister form an excellent termination to the long perspective of St John’s from the outer street. And the view of the court and library from the river is too well known to need remark.
Beyond the third court we are on modern ground. Mr Rickman’s Bridge of Sighs is the beginning of the long cloister which forms one side of the New Court. The view from the bridge, including Ralph Symons’ lovely Kitchen Bridge and the sweep of the Cam as it rounds the corner opposite Trinity Library, is more beautiful than the bridge itself; but the bridge, in its turn, is the most meritorious part of this immense court, in itself a college. It was built from Mr Rickman’s designs between 1827 and 1831, and is a proof of the common criticism that its architect’s theory was vastly superior to his practice. The extremely ornate cloister, with its traceried openings and vast central gateway, has no _raison d’être_, and the rest of the court is merely a huge barrack with a pretentious central staircase. From certain parts of the “Backs,” when the shallow detail is sufficiently screened by trees, it forms an effective background to the prospect; but, near at hand, its effect is bare and ponderous.
All modern changes in the original buildings are to be found in the first court. In the original plan the Master’s Lodge adjoined the Hall on the south, and the Chapel on the north, and filled up an angle between them. The court existed thus till 1774, when Essex came here, as to other colleges, and faced the south side with the present front, which might be creditable in Harley Street or Cavendish Square, but is merely ugly in a college. Further, in the early sixties, the College resolved to build a new chapel. The old one, whose site is marked by the slabs in the grass south of the existing chapel, was never a very remarkable building and was quite inadequate. So, in 1863, Sir Gilbert Scott came, built the chapel, and remodelled the court. The Master’s Lodge was taken down, the Hall was lengthened by two bays, one of which is a new oriel, the staircase and lobby leading to the Combination Room were made, and the new Lodge was built on the ground north of the Library. Scott’s immense chapel is, no doubt, too large for its purpose, and the heavy tower is painfully out of proportion to the rest, especially when seen from the west end. The style is typical of the architect’s genius for imitation. He knew two buildings by heart, the Sainte Chapelle and the Angel Choir at Lincoln, and he put them into all his designs with a fatal formality. The exterior of St John’s Chapel is somewhat tedious, and every detail is just a little too prominent—the statues in the buttresses, for example. On the whole, Scott’s chapel at Exeter College, Oxford, is much better. But inside the building is very striking, especially the transeptal antechapel, which, in spite of the bad glass at the north end, recalls the antechapel of New College at Oxford. The tower inside is open to the first storey, and in the higher window there are good fragments of old glass. The glass in the inner chapel and in the great west window is by Clayton and Bell. Lord Powis, High Steward of the University at the time, gave the windows in the apse, and the rest are in memory of friends and benefactors of the college. The chapel was consecrated in 1869 by Dr Harold Browne, then Bishop of Ely. Some of the old stalls from the original chapel, with their miserere seats, have been kept; and the fine Early English piscina which belonged to the chapel of St John’s Hospital has been incorporated in the arcading of the chancel. It belongs to a local class which includes the piscina at Jesus Chapel and the piscinae in the transepts at Histon, three miles away. Another relic is the altar tomb of Hugh Ashton, Archdeacon of York, who was one of the foundress’ executors and died in 1522. The upper portion of the monument is canopied and richly coloured; the lower part is open and contains the “cadaver,” which was fashionable with ecclesiastics of the day. Ashton’s rebus, an ash growing out of a tun, appears in various parts of the base and canopy. In the antechapel also are Baily’s statue of Dr Wood, Master of St John’s and Dean of Ely, and the old altar-piece by Raphael Mengs. Other objects of interest are the paintings on the roof, a procession of illustrious Churchmen and Churchwomen of every age leading up to the figure of Our Lord in glory, which occupies the centre panel of the roof in the apse; the fine organ by Messrs Hill; and the marbles in the chancel. The chapel is 172 feet long and 63 feet high to the inner roof. The pitch of the outer roof is 80 feet, and the tower rises to 140 feet.
The Master’s Lodge is a comfortable building, and contains a number of pictures, including two portraits of Charles I. and Henrietta Maria by Vandyck, and a large portrait of Matthew Prior (Rigaud) in his official robes. Since then, the only addition of structural importance to this interesting college has been the wing known as the Chapel Court, which runs at right angles to the main building opposite the west door of the chapel. This was added in 1884, by Mr F. C. Penrose, and is of red brick with white stone dressings and with a louvre in the centre. The college grounds have been laid out from time to time, and, with their winding walks and beautiful Fellow’s Garden, are the most interesting and romantic of all the gardens near the river.
* * * * *