Part 2

Such are some of the memories evoked by the Tower of Carfax, the best view of which is given in Mr. Matthison's first drawing. The second illustration is from a point rather farther to the eastward. Both give a glimpse of the Mitre Hotel, most picturesque of old Oxford hostelries, and the second a part of the front of All Saints. At this point we may for a moment leave the High Street (which we have begun to traverse, half insensibly, under the artist's guidance) and wander down "The Turl," as Turl Street is commonly called. "Turl" is said to be a corruption of Thorold, and Thorold to have been the name of a postern-gate in the old city walls. The quiet old street has Colleges on either hand, Lincoln, Exeter, and Jesus. Retracing our footsteps, we get the fine view of All Saints which is given in the third illustration. The history of this Church, known originally as All Hallows, goes back to the twelfth century, but the present building, designed by Dr. Aldrich, a former Dean of Christ Church, has only been in existence since 1708, the old one having been destroyed in 1699 by the fall of its spire. The present graceful tower and spire are a worthy memorial of Dean Aldrich's versatility.

We now return to our exploration of "The High," whose magnificence of outline become more and more apparent as one walks eastwards. It was a poet bred at Cambridge, no less a poet than Wordsworth, whom the manifold charm of Oxford tempted "to slight his own beloved Cam"; and he it is who has written the most quotable description of "The High" in brief. "The streamlike windings of that glorious street," he writes: and indeed its curve suggests nothing so much as the majestic bend of some noble river. We may cite, too, Sir Walter Scott's testimony, who claimed that the High Street of Edinburgh is the most magnificent in Great Britain, _except the High Street of Oxford_. It is not at all difficult to assent to this opinion. As the view gradually unfolds itself, we have on our left successively the new front of Brasenose, St. Mary's, All Souls, Queen's, and Magdalen; on our right the long, dark front of University, and many old dwelling-houses, whose architecture does not shame their situation. Looking backward for a moment at Queen's College (perhaps when the west is rosy, as in Mr. Matthison's drawing), one sees substantially the same view which delighted Wordsworth in 1820; and we, if we are wise, shall take as much delight in it as he. Many thousand times since then has the sun set behind the spires of St. Mary's and All Saints, but the unaltered prospect obliterates the intervening years, and we are at one with the great poet in his admiration.

Contrast is always pleasant, and one may reach Broad Street (which certainly must not be neglected) by several thoroughfares totally unlike "The High." We may traverse Long Wall Street, with Magdalen Grove on our right, a pleasance hidden from the wayfarer by a high wall, but visible to such as lodge in upper rooms on the other side of the way; thence along Holywell Street, with its queer medley of old houses, many of them pleasing to the eye. Or, still greater contrast, we may go by Queen's and New College Lanes, with their rectangular turns and severe masonry on either side. Or, again, we may go through the Radcliffe square with its massive buildings on every hand--the Radcliffe dome in the centre, girt about with St. Mary's, Brasenose, All Souls, and the Old Schools. In any case we find ourselves, at the last, in Broad Street.

It is a wide and quiet street, with comparatively little traffic, a street dear to meditation. Some such suggestion is conveyed by Mr. Matthison's sketch. He has not given us here the fronts of Balliol, Trinity, or Exeter,--views of the first two will be found later on,--but just the old houses (the one in dark relief is Kettell Hall, built by a President of Trinity in the seventeenth century) asleep in the sunshine, with the Sheldonian on the right, whose guardian figure-heads, traditionally said to represent the twelve Cæsars, seem by the expression of their stony countenances to be thinking hard of nothing in particular. At the other end of Broad Street, marked by a flat cross in the roadway, is the spot where tradition says the martyrs suffered for their faith.

Their Memorial is a little distance off, in the neighbouring street of St. Giles'. It is an effective and graceful structure, with characteristic statues of Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley, and an inscription stating the manner of their death and the reasons for their martyrdom. It was erected in 1841, by public subscription, when also the north aisle of the adjacent Church of St. Mary Magdalen was rebuilt out of the same fund. The Memorial appears twice in Mr. Matthison's drawings; once at the approach of evening, looking towards the city, and once as it is seen in full daylight, with the widening vista of St. Giles' Street in the background. St. Giles' is surely the widest street in the three kingdoms; Broad Street is narrow when compared with it. Each September it is the scene of what is said to be the largest and the oldest fair in England. But we have not chosen a fair-day for our pilgrimage.

THE RIVER

|IF the "towers of Julius" are, as Gray called them, "London's lasting shame," the River is the lasting pride of Oxford. When does "The River" cease to be Isis and become Thames? One might as well ask when it ceases to be Thames and becomes Isis. The term is probably not used out of Oxford, and with much vagueness there. Matthew Arnold speaks of "the stripling Thames at Bablock-Hythe" (a very lovely ferry higher up than Oxford), and at Abingdon nobody talks about the Isis. The use of the name is one of the odd and pleasant conservatisms of Oxford.

Then, again, there are two rivers in Oxford, according to the map, Thames and Cherwell; but to the undergraduate there are three--"The River," "The Upper River," and "The Cher." For the sake of strangers it may be well to elucidate this enigma. "The River" is that part of the Thames which begins at Folly Bridge and ends at Sandford, except that on the occasion of "long courses" and Commemoration picnics it is prolonged as far as Nuneham. It is understood subsequently to pass through several counties and reach eventually the German Ocean. You do not go upon "The River" commonly for amusement, but for stern and serious work. You aspire to a thwart in your College "torpid" first, then in your College "eight," with the fantastic possibility of a place in the "Trials" or--crown of all--in the 'Varsity "Eight" on some distant and auspicious day! It is no child's-play that is involved, as every oarsman knows. "The River" is an admirable school of self-control and self-denial, and "training"--long may it flourish!--is one of the best of disciplines. It has been said, and with truth, that boating-men are the salt of undergraduate society.

The "Torpids" are rowed in March--you will appreciate this fact if you are rowing "bow" and a hailstorm comes on--in eight-oared boats with fixed seats. The name bestowed on them seems a little unkind. The "Eights" come off in the summer term, when sliding seats are used--to the greater comfort of the oarsmen, and the greater gratification of the lookers-on, for this rowing is out of all comparison prettier, and of course the boats travel at a greater pace. Both "Eights" and "Torpids," as most people are aware, are bumping races; that is, the boats start each at a given distance from the one behind it, and the object is to bump the boat in front, and so bump one s way to that proudest of all positions, "the Head of the River." A bump in front of the Barges (which Mr. Matthison has sketched), following a long and stern chase from Iffley, is a thing to live for.

West of Folly Bridge "The River" might as well, for all the ordinary undergraduate knows of it, sink for some distance, like a certain classic stream, beneath the ground. Venturesome explorers tell of a tract of water put to base mechanical uses, flanked by dingy wharves and overlooked by attic windows.

But to most boating-men "The River" ends at Salter's, only to reappear in the modified form and style of "The Upper River" at Port Meadow. "The Upper River" is some distance from everything else, but it is well worth the journey to Port Meadow. There is nothing strenuous about "The Upper River." It always seems afternoon there, and a lazy afternoon. The standard of oarsmanship may not be very high, but no one is in a hurry and no one is censorious. To enjoy the Upper River as it deserves to be enjoyed, you should have laboured at the Torpid oar a Lent Term, and have found yourself not required (this year) for the Eight. You know quite enough of rowing, in such a case, to cut a figure on the Upper River; but you will not want to cut it. If you appreciate your surroundings properly, you will want to sit in the stern while somebody else does the rowing; or, if you take an oar, you will want to pull in leisurely fashion and to look about you as you please, in the blissful absence of raucous injunctions to "keep your eyes in the boat." There is much that is pleasant to look upon--the wide expanse of Port Meadow on the right, on the towpath willows waving in the wind, and on the water here and there the white sail of a centre-board. As you draw near Godstow, you may see cattle drinking, knee-deep in the stream; you may land and refresh yourself, if you will, at the "Trout" at Godstow; may visit the ruins of the nunnery, with their memories of "Fair Rosamond;" or, leaning on the bridge-rail over Godstow weir, lulled by the ceaseless murmur of the water, may muse upon the vanity of mere ambition and the servitude of such as row in College Eights. Then, if the day be young enough, you may go on to Eynsham or to Bablock-Hythe, and perhaps afoot to Stanton-Harcourt, a most lovely village; and returning at dusk, when the stream appears to widen indefinitely as the light fails, you will vow that for sheer peace and enjoyment there is nothing like the Upper River.

Unless, indeed, it be the Cherwell. This little stream, which flows into the Isis near the last of the Barges, while it winds about Christ Church Meadow, Magdalen, and Mesopotamia, is edged about, with shadowy walks; but once clear of the Parks, it is embedded in grassy and flower-laden banks, through which your boat passes with a lively sense of exploration. Presently, at a break in all this greenery, you come abreast of a grey stone building, with ancient gables and air of reposeful dignity. Instinctively your oar-blades rest upon the water, for so much beauty demands more than a moment's admiration. It is Water Eaton Hall, one of those smaller Elizabethan manor-houses which have survived the violence of the Rebellion and the neglect of impoverished owners. All about its aged masonry is the growth and freshness of the spring. Oxford is several miles away, but even so you are reminded of her special charm--the association of reverend age with youth's perennial renewal.

MERTON COLLEGE

|MERTON is in several respects the most interesting of the Colleges of Oxford. In the first place, it is the oldest; for though the original endowments of University and Balliol were bestowed a little earlier, Merton was the first College to have a corporate existence, regulated and defined by statute. With the granting of Merton's statutes in 1264, a new era of University life began. From being casual sojourners in lodgings and Halls, students from this date tended more and more to be gathered into organised, endowed, and dignified societies, where discipline was one of the factors of education.

Such is Oxford's debt to Walter de Merton, Chancellor of England and Bishop of Rochester, who died by a fall from his horse in fording a river in his diocese, and was buried in Rochester Cathedral. His tomb there has twice been renovated by the piety of the College which he founded.

His statutes are preserved at Merton, and were consulted as precedents when other Colleges were founded, at Cambridge as well as at Oxford. "By the example which he set," runs the inscription on his tomb, "he is the founder of all existing Colleges."

Another great distinction of Merton is its Library (whose interior appears in Mrs. Waltons sketch), which was built in 1377, by William Rede, Bishop of Chichester, and is the oldest Library in the kingdom.

In monasteries and other houses where learning took refuge, books had hitherto been kept in chests, an arrangement which must have had its drawbacks, considering the weight of the volumes of those days.

Mr. Matthison's first drawing shews the College as seen from Merton Street, with the imposing tower of the Chapel in the background. A very fine view of the buildings of Merton, in their full extent, is obtained from Christ Church Meadow.

To speak of them in detail, the Muniment Room is the oldest collegiate structure in Oxford, and possibly dates from the lifetime of the Founder. The Hall gateway, with its ancient oak door and enormous iron hinges, is of the same epoch. Of the three Quadrangles the small one to the north (which contains the Library) is the oldest. The front Quadrangle opens by a magnificent archway into the Inner, or Fellows' Court, built in 1610 in the late Gothic style, its south gate surmounted with pillars of the several Greek orders. The Common Room (1661) was the first room of the kind to be opened in Oxford.

The beautiful Chapel has rather the appearance of a parish Church, which indeed it is. St. John the Baptists parish, however, is so minute as hardly to need, in a city of many churches, a place of worship all to itself, and the building was assigned to Merton in the last decade of the thirteenth century, with the proviso that one of the chaplains should discharge such parochial duties as might arise. In the ante-chapel are the monuments of the famous Sir Thomas Bodley, Sir Henry Savile, once Master, and Antony Wood, greatest of Oxford antiquarians. Wood (who died in 1695) was associated with Merton all his life. He was born in the house opposite the College entrance, called Postmasters' Hall, and there he passed most of his days.

It is from him that we get a great deal of our information about early Oxford. Royalty has repeatedly enjoyed the hospitality of Merton, and here is Wood's account of a visit paid by Queen Catherine, wife of Henry VIII. "She vouchsafed to condescend so low as to dine with the Merton-ians, for the sake of the late Warden Rawlyns, at this time almoner to the king, notwithstanding she was expected by other Colleges." Elizabeth and her privy council were equally gracious, and were entertained after dinner with disputations performed by the Fellows. One would like to know what subjects were disputed, and what the queen thought of her entertainment. When Charles I.'s Court came to Oxford, Queen Henrietta Maria occupied the Warden's lodgings, which were again tenanted by Charles II.'s queen, when the Court fled from plague-stricken London.

Merton has had great men among her Fellows, but none greater than John Wycliffe; and among her postmasters (so the scholars are called here) no name captivates our sympathies more readily than that of Richard Steele, trooper and essayist, the friend of Addison and the husband of Prue.

UNIVERSITY COLLEGE

|IT was long and hotly maintained that University College was founded by Alfred the Great, and by celebrating its thousandth anniversary in 1872 the College would seem to have accepted this pious opinion. The claim was raised as far back as 1387, when the College, being engaged in a lawsuit about a part of its estates, tried to ingratiate itself with Richard II. by representing that its founder was his predecessor, Alfred, and that Bede and John of Beverley had been among its students. Now, Bede and John of Beverley died about a century before Alfred was born. _Ex pede Herculem_. The Alfred tradition need not keep us longer.

University College owes its existence to William of Durham, who, at his death in 1249, beqeathed to the University the sum of three hundred and ten marks for the use of ten or more _Masters_ (at that time the highest academical title) to be natives of Durham or its vicinity. Certain tenements were purchased, one of them on a part of the site of Brasenose, and here, in 1253, Durham's scholars first assembled; but only in 1280 were they granted powers of self-government. The recent foundation of Merton no doubt suggested the idea of bestowing a corporate life on what had hitherto been known as "University Hall." Durham's scholars removed to their present locality in 1343.

One of the earliest benefactors whom "Univ." (as this College is familiarly termed in Oxford) is bound to remember is Walter Skirlaw, who became Bishop of Durham in 1403. He ran away from his home in youth in order to study at Oxford, and his parents heard no more of him (according to his biographer) till he arrived at the see of Durham. He then sought them out, and provided for their old age. Another benefactor (1566) was Joan Davys, wife of a citizen of Oxford, who gave estates for the support of two Logic lecturers, and for increasing the diet of the Master and Fellows. Had Mr. Cecil Rhodes heard of this lady? To touch on the Masters of "Univ.," a curious career was that of Obadiah Walker, who lost his Fellowship in Commonwealth times for adherence to the Church of England; later on was made Master and turned Roman Catholic; enjoyed the favour of James II.; and lost his Mastership at the Revolution for adherence to the Church of Rome.

Of the present buildings of the College none is of earlier date than the seventeenth century. The two Quadrangles form a grand front towards the High Street, with a tower over each gateway at equal distances from the extremities. Above the gateways are statues of Queen Anne and Queen Mary, on the outside; two more, within, represent James II. and Dr. Radcliffe. It was mainly at the cost of John Radcliffe, a member of the College, that the smaller Quadrangle was completed. Other famous members were the brothers Scott, afterwards Lords Stowell and Eldon; Sir William Jones, the great Oriental scholar; and Sir Roger Newdigate, responsible for so many thousand heroic couplets, who gave the handsome chimney-piece in the Hall. It is curious to notice, by the way, that the fireplace stood in the centre of this room until 1766. The Common Room contains two specimens of an out-of-the-way art, portraits of Henry iv. and Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, burnt in wood by Dr. Griffith, a former Master.

The beautiful monument to the poet Shelley, set up in the College in 1893, is the gift of Lady Shelley. Its honoured position within the walls of the Foundation which drove him out so hastily and harshly is indeed a fitting emblem of "the late remorse of love."

BALLIOL COLLEGE

|THIS College was originated about 1260 by John de Balliol, a baron of Durham, whose son for four years occupied the throne of Scotland. But inasmuch as John de Balliol only made provision for four students, and that as penance for an outrage, the greater credit attaches to his wife Dervorguilla, who endowed a dozen more and hired them a lodging close to St. Mary Magdalen Church, on the site where part of the present College stands. Devorguilla gave her scholars their first statutes in 1282. She bade them live temperately, and converse with one another in the Latin tongue.

Truth to tell, as the revenues at first yielded each scholar only eightpence a week, riotous living seemed hardly practicable. Benefactors, however, presently stepped in, notably Sir Philip Somervyle of Staffordshire, who in 1340 raised the weekly allowance to elevenpence, and to fifteenpence in case victuals were dear. The grateful College accepted from Sir Philip a new body of statutes, in which the now familiar title, "Master of Balliol," makes its first appearance, a title associated twenty years afterwards with the honoured name of John Wycliffe. Among later benefactors may be mentioned Peter Blundell, founder of the Devonshire school which bears his name; Lady Elizabeth Periam (a sister of Francis Bacon); and John Snell, a native of Ayrshire,--it is to his endowment that Balliol owes her most distinguished Scotsmen, such as Adam Smith, Lockhart (Sir Walter Scott's son-in-law and biographer), and Archbishop Tait.

Balliol was an early friend to the new learning, and fostered the scholarly tastes of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, son of Henry IV., and Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester (to name but two of her most prominent humanists). Duke Humphrey left his books to the University, six hundred in number--a very large collection for those days, when as yet Caxton had not revolutionised the world. And in Reformation days, when the humanities were called to account, learning found a zealous supporter in Cuthbert Tunstall, Bishop of Durham, who had been bred at Balliol.

The annals of the College during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries are not particularly distinguished. After the Restoration Balliol men seem to have been considerably addicted to malt liquors, and much ale does not conduce to profound study. But modern Balliol men might apply to their own use the words of Dr. Ingram's famous song, "Who fears to speak of '98?" for it was in 1798 that Dr. Parsons became Master of the College, and with his advent began the great days of Balliol.

Parsons, with two other heads of houses, established the Examination system, which has been so much belauded and so much abused. It was soon apparent that Balliol tutors had the knack of equipping men to face the ordeal of "the Schools"; the College speedily came to the front, and its intellectual pre-eminence in Oxford during the nineteenth century is now universally admitted. Men trained at Balliol during this period occupied and still occupy some of the very highest positions in the State. Not to mention the living, whose fame is in the mouths of all men, some of the most prominent names are those of Lords Coleridge, Bowen, and Peel (formerly Speaker of the House of Commons), Sir Robert Morier, and Archbishop Temple. Matthew Arnold and Clough were undergraduates at Balliol with Benjamin Jowett, afterwards its most famous Master; and, to balance the severity of these poets, the lighter Muse of Calverley sojourned for a time within its walls.

The buildings of Balliol, which Mr. Matthison has sketched from four points of view, are extensive, but not conspicuously beautiful. The front towards Broad Street was rebuilt in 1867 by Mr. Waterhouse. Old prints assure us that it had previously a forbidding and almost prison-like aspect. Mr. Matthison calls attention to the fact that this picture shows the spot where the martyrs were burned. The automobile in the foreground may suggest to the thoughtful reader that martyrdom is no longer by fire. The drawing from St. Giles' perhaps conveys a pleasanter impression. The third shews us that part of the College known as "Fisher's Buildings," erected at the cost of a former Fellow in 1769. The fourth drawing is of the Garden Quadrangle with the Chapel on the left (rebuilt in 1856); here the surroundings are more attractive; we are looking on "a grove of Academe," in which vigorous minds may still, as heretofore, grow happily towards their maturity.

EXETER COLLEGE