CHAPTER XIV.

UNIVERSITY POLITICS BETWEEN THE REVOLUTION AND THE ACCESSION OF GEORGE III.

[Sidenote: Attitude of the University towards the Revolution. Visit of William III.]

The Revolution of 1688-9 seems to have been quietly accepted at Oxford as an irrevocable fact rather than welcomed as the consecration of civil and religious liberty. For a while, indeed, the outrageous invasion of academical privileges by James II. produced its natural effect, and deputies from the University were despatched to salute William III. at Crewkerne, after his landing in Torbay. William actually came as far as Abingdon, but, there receiving news of James’s flight, sent to excuse himself, and hurried on towards London. Burnet tells us that, at the same time, and at his request, the ‘Association,’ or pledge to support him in restoring order and liberty, was signed by almost all the Heads of colleges and the chief men of the University. But he adds that some of the signatories, ‘being disappointed in the preferments they aspired to, became afterwards King William’s most implacable enemies.’ At all events, reactionary tendencies gradually manifested themselves, and it is said that Locke, who had little cause for gratitude to Oxford, urged the King to reform the Universities once more, alleging that otherwise the work of the Revolution ‘would all soon go back.’ William had been recognised as a deliverer, but Oxford loyalists had not abandoned their allegiance to the Stuart dynasty, however inconsistent with their submission to William as king _de facto_ by the will of a Parliamentary majority. It was not until the autumn of 1695, after the death of Mary, and the complete transfer of power to the Whigs, that he found time to visit the University, for a few hours only, on his way from Woodstock to Windsor. He was received by the Chancellor, the second Duke of Ormond, and one of a family which, as representing the high Tory aristocracy, held this office, as if by hereditary right, for a period of ninety years. All the usual ceremonies were observed; a select body of Doctors and Masters ‘rode out in their gowns to meet the King’ a mile on the Woodstock road, and a grand procession conducted him down the High Street to the east gate of the schools, through which he passed directly to the theatre, where a sumptuous banquet was prepared for him. Evelyn states that, being coldly received, he declined the banquet and barely stayed an hour; according to another report, in itself improbable, the fear of poison deterred him from tasting the refreshments provided. However this may be, he certainly never courted or acquired popularity at the University, which henceforth became a hotbed of Jacobite disaffection for at least two generations.

[Sidenote: Origin of Oxford Jacobitism. Visit of Queen Anne]

The exact source of this sentiment is somewhat difficult to ascertain, but it was probably a survival of the Puritan Visitation, and was doubtless connected with hearty respect for the Non-jurors, to whose ranks, however, Oxford contributed fewer resident members than Cambridge. But Oxford Churchmen assuredly cherished a genuine hatred of the latitudinarian opinions attributed to William III., and afterwards patronised by Whig statesmen. Whatever may have been its source, and whether it was in the nature of a settled conviction or of an inveterate fashion, Jacobite partisanship was shared alike by ‘dons’ and by undergraduates, it was the one important element in the external history of the University under the first two Georges, and, like Scotch Jacobitism, it retained a sort of poetical existence up to a still later period. In their opposition to the Comprehension Scheme promoted by the King, the University of Oxford was supported by that of Cambridge, in which there long continued to be a strong Jacobite minority, but which, by comparison with Oxford, soon came to be regarded as a nursery of Whig principles. Still the commission appointed to prepare a scheme of Comprehension included the names of Aldrich, afterwards dean of Christchurch, who had succeeded the Romanist Massey, and Jane, Regius Professor of divinity, who had been converted from extreme Toryism by James II.’s aggression on Magdalen, but was reconverted by William III.’s neglect of his claims to a bishopric. The hopes of a Jacobite reaction, excited by the accession of Queen Anne, found an enthusiastic echo in the University. On July 16, 1702, a grand ‘Philological Exercise’ was celebrated in the theatre for the special purpose of honouring the new Queen. On August 26 of the same year, Queen Anne herself visited Oxford, where a fierce struggle for precedence at her reception took place between the University and City, which afterwards showed more respect for the Stuart dynasty in exile than when it was on the throne. Burnet complains bitterly of the clerical Toryism and ecclesiastical bigotry which prevailed at Oxford in 1704, accusing the University of ‘corrupting the principles’ of its students. Hearne, the learned Oxford chronicler, writing on September 2, 1705, notices a thanksgiving sermon preached by a Mr. Evans, of St. John’s, a clergyman of doubtful character, of which Dr. Lloyd, bishop of Worcester, said that ‘he was very glad there was one even in Oxford that would speak for King William.’ He adds, three days later, that Evans had talked mightily of publishing this sermon, but that ‘there is none in Oxford will print a thing so scandalously partial against the Church of England.’

[Sidenote: Popularity of Sacheverell. Position of the Whig minority]

During the furious outbreak of High Church fanaticism, which rallied the mass of English clergy and shattered the Whig ascendency at the end of 1709, the gownsmen were active partisans of Dr. Sacheverell, himself a graduate of Magdalen. The vice-chancellor came forward as surety for him, Atterbury, the future dean of Christchurch, defended him with great ability, and Oxford afterwards gave him an enthusiastic reception. The House of Lords marked its sense of this disloyalty in the following year by causing the famous University decree of 1683 to be publicly burned, together with Sacheverell’s sermons. No sooner did Queen Anne disavow her Whig advisers and place herself openly under Tory influences, than Oxford, undeterred by this rebuke, paraded its Toryism without disguise, and, had it retained its old place in national politics, the Hanoverian succession would have encountered a still more formidable opposition. But the Whig oligarchy again saved the country. After four years of Tory policy, another crisis occurred, the Tory ministry broke up, the great Whig lords forced their way into the council chamber, the Hanoverian succession was secured, and Queen Anne opportunely died. The accession of the Elector of Hanover was received at Oxford with sullen disappointment, but the Heads of Houses consulted their own interests by offering a reward of 100_l._ for the discovery of an unknown person who had delivered at the mayor’s house a letter protesting against the proclamation of George I. He was proclaimed, nevertheless, at St. Mary’s, as well as at Carfax, but the scantiness of the attendance and shabbiness of the procession was remarked with satisfaction by the Tories. Baffled in their hopes of support in the highest quarter, the Tory democracy of the University took refuge in libels, disloyal toasts, and offensive lampoons. The Whig gownsmen, few as they were, and mostly confined to New College, Oriel, and Merton, had an influential protector in Gardiner, the Warden of All Souls’, and vice-chancellor from 1712 to 1715, himself a moderate Tory, but resolute in saving the University from the risk of casting in its lot with the Pretender. They formed themselves into a club, which they called the ‘Constitution Club,’ and to which no one below the rank of B.A. was eligible. This club soon became the chief object of Tory resentment, at last culminating in a riot which called for the intervention of the government.

[Sidenote: Jacobite demonstrations. A troop of horse sent to Oxford]

On May 28, 1715, being the first anniversary of George I.’s birthday since his accession, the Whig club had assembled to commemorate the day at the King’s Head tavern. They were attacked by a Tory mob, and a fray ensued, which broke out afresh on the following day, being the Restoration-day. The Heads of Houses, and even the grand jury for the county, sheltered the aggressors, and reserved all their rebukes for the obnoxious club. The government naturally took a different view of the case, and called for explanations. Feeling that matters, had gone far enough, the University authorities took means to suppress Jacobite demonstrations on June 10, the Pretender’s birthday; but they were at no pains to conceal their real inclinations. On the impeachment and resignation of Ormond, the University hastened to elect his brother, the Earl of Arran, as his successor in the chancellorship, and conferred the degree of D.C.L. on Sir Constantine Phipps, a Tory of Tories, with special marks of honour, while its representatives in Parliament were prominent leaders of the same party. At last the patience of the government was exhausted. On the birthday of the Prince of Wales there were no signs of rejoicing, and complaint of this omission was made to the mayor by an officer in command of a recruiting party then in Oxford. Another disturbance ensued, of which conflicting accounts were sent to London, and the whole affair came before the House of Lords in the course of a debate on the Mutiny Bill. The University was ably represented, and a plausible defence was offered on its behalf, but the verdict of the House was unfavourable. In the meantime, an address to the Crown voted by the University on the outbreak of the rebellion in Scotland had met with the reception which its insincerity deserved, and the government determined to employ decisive measures. A body of dragoons under Major-General Pepper entered Oxford, martial law was at once proclaimed, and the students were ordered to remain within their colleges on pain of being marched off to military execution. After a few seizures had been made, the dragoons were replaced by Colonel Handyside’s regiment of foot, which continued to be quartered in Oxford for the express purpose of overawing the University—no unnecessary measure when a rebellion of unknown extent had been planned not only in Scotland and the north of England but in the western counties. It was on this occasion that an Oxford wit contrasted the King’s severe treatment of Oxford with his munificent present of a library to Cambridge in lines which, together with the Cambridge repartee, have become historical.

[Sidenote: The Constitution Club. Government scheme for reforming the University]

On May 29 of the following year, while Colonel Handyside’s regiment was still in Oxford, the Constitution Club was again the scene of a political commotion, though of a less serious nature. Meadowcourt, the steward of the club, having forced the junior proctor to drink the King’s health, was suspended from his degree for the space of two years; and it was further ordered that he should not be allowed to supplicate for his grace ‘until he confesses his manifold crimes and asks pardon upon his knees.’ In spite of the King’s Act of Grace, to which he skilfully appealed, he was twice refused his M.A. degree. He lived, however, to bring the disaffection of the University under the notice of the government in 1719, when the vice-chancellor refused to notice a disloyal sermon preached by Warton, though he was disappointed to receive no more than a letter of thanks for his zeal. Other Whigs endured similar persecutions; the Whig satirist, Amherst, was driven out of St. John’s College, and social penalties were freely inflicted on members of Merton, Exeter, Christchurch, and Wadham, then suspected of being anti-Jacobite societies. The Constitution Club died out before the end of George I.’s reign, and many academical Whigs became so disheartened as to conceal their principles or even to affect Toryism for the sake of preferment. Indeed, the avowed hostility of Oxford and the doubtful fidelity of Cambridge to the reigning dynasty were regarded with so much anxiety at Court that it was seriously contemplated to introduce a Bill to suspend the constitution of both Universities. The draught of this Bill empowered the ‘King to nominate and appoint all and every the Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, Proctors, and other officers of the said Universities, and all Heads of Houses, Fellows, Students, Chaplains, Scholars, and Exhibitioners, and all members of and in all and every the College and Colleges, Hall and Halls in the said Universities or either of them, upon all and every vacancy and vacancies,’ &c. This provisional administration was to last for seven years, and the project of it was approved by fifteen bishops. Lord Macclesfield, the Lord Chancellor, had drawn up a separate plan of reform with the same object of controlling the University through government patronage. The election of Heads was to be vested in the great officers of State, with the concurrence of the Visitor and the bishop. The disposition of all other college emoluments was to be placed in the hands of a commission. The fellowships were to be limited to a term of twenty years, lest they should conduce to idleness and self-indulgence. Professorships and minor fellowships charged with educational duties were to be founded. The benefices of the Crown and the nobility were to be conferred only on ‘well-affected persons.’ Colleges in which ‘honest and loyal men’ predominate were to be specially favoured in the distribution of Crown patronage, ‘till the true interest in them was become superior to all opposition.’ Happily wiser counsels prevailed, and there is reason to believe that Archbishop Wake was largely instrumental in averting the danger. He knew that Oxford Tories could only be influenced through Tory leaders, and discreetly used such mediation to keep the factious spirit of the University within tolerable bounds, until the design against its independence was abandoned. But George I. never deigned to visit Oxford, being the first sovereign who had failed to do so since the reign of Mary.

[Sidenote: Gradual decline of Jacobitism in Oxford during the reign of George II.]

During the earlier years of Walpole’s administration the University seems to have been comparatively free from political turmoil. Many of the gownsmen, however, took part with the citizens in the disorderly revels, lasting for three nights, which celebrated the withdrawal of the Excise Bill, in 1733, when the healths of Ormond, Bolingbroke, and James III. were publicly drunk round the bonfires. On the other hand, in the following year the University accorded an enthusiastic reception to the Prince of Orange, who came to marry the Princess Anne. The city shared in these festivities, conferring its freedom upon the prince at the north gate on his return from Blenheim, while bell-ringing, illuminations, and bonfires were kept up for three nights together. Still covert Jacobitism found expression in the University pulpit, and John Wesley, desiring to guard himself against the imputation of it when he preached before the University in 1734, got the vice-chancellor to read and approve his sermon beforehand. Even after the suppression of the rebellion in 1745 it was not extinct, and in 1748 the government resorted to somewhat excessive severity against three students who had toasted the Pretender, although the vice-chancellor and proctors, apprehensive of the result, had issued a peremptory order declaring their resolution to put down seditious practices. Further proceedings were instituted against the vice-chancellor and the University itself, but the motion was negatived by the Court. The government, however, was not appeased. When the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle was proclaimed at Oxford, the vice-chancellor, Heads of Houses, professors, and proctors took care to participate in public rejoicings with the mayor and corporation, but a congratulatory address from the University on this event was rejected with disdain. The loyalty of the University was still justly distrusted. In 1754 Dr. King, a notorious Jacobite, and Principal of St. Mary Hall, elicited rounds of applause from the whole audience in the theatre, filled with peers, members of Parliament, and country gentlemen, by thrice pausing upon the word _Redeat_, purposely introduced into his speech to gratify ‘the Old Interest.’ No wonder that in the same year Pitt denounced Oxford Jacobitism in the House of Commons; notwithstanding which, in the following year (1755), a Tory and Jacobite mob, guarding the approaches to the polling-booths at the county election for days together, prevented the Whigs from giving their votes. Again, in 1759, Lord Westmoreland, who had been a zealous Hanoverian, but had afterwards turned Jacobite out of resentment against Sir Robert Walpole, was elected by the University as its Chancellor. Yet the days of Oxford Jacobitism were already numbered; it was well nigh dead as a creed, and it soon ceased to be a fashion. The marvellous victories of the same year kindled genuine enthusiasm among the gownsmen, and a most fulsome address was presented to George II. by the Oxford Convocation, begging ‘leave to approach your sacred person with hearts full of duty and affection,’ and applauding the measures taken ‘for the support of the Protestant religion and the liberties of Europe.’

[Sidenote: Revival of loyalty after the accession of George III. His visits to Oxford]

With the accession of George III. Jacobitism disappeared or faded into Toryism of the modern type. In its congratulatory address the University took special credit to itself for having been ‘ever faithful to monarchy on the most trying occasions.’ The King’s reply was guarded, recommending ‘sound principles of religious and civil duties early instilled into the minds of youth.’ His advice seems to have been adopted; at all events, we hear no more of academical Jacobitism, loyalty to George III. became fashionable, Dr. King himself appeared at Court, and the University was probably sincere when, in 1763, it proposed inviolable ‘attachment to your Majesty’s person and government.’ It may perhaps have been in recognition of this salutary change in its attitude that in 1768 the Speaker of the House of Commons paid it an elaborate compliment, in censuring the authorities of Oxford City for a gross act of political corruption, specially recommending for imitation the conduct of their learned neighbour. In the following year, the University presented another address to the Crown deprecating political agitation ‘under pretence of defending civil and religious liberties,’ and assuring his Majesty of its determination to imbue its students with sound principles. By a happy inconsistency, academical loyalists now managed to reconcile their old worship of the king _de jure_ with a hearty acceptance of the Hanoverian succession. Probably Dr. Nowell, Principal of St. Mary Hall, fairly represented these sentiments when he reasserted the doctrines of divine right and passive obedience in a sermon preached before the House of Commons in 1772, for which he was first thanked and then censured. It deserves notice, however, that a more liberal spirit already made itself felt in regard to religious toleration. Though Sir Roger Newdigate, on behalf of the University, stoutly opposed the relief of clergymen from subscription to the Thirty-nine Articles, a strong minority in the Oxford Convocation supported, in February 1773, a proposal for requiring from candidates for matriculation only a declaration of conformity to the worship and liturgy of the Established Church. An attempt was afterwards made to qualify the effect of subscription by appending to the statute requiring it an explanatory note whereby it was virtually reduced to a declaration of conformity, but the legal validity of such an enactment was challenged, and the proposal was quietly dropped. In March 1779, a petition was presented by the University, through its chancellor, Lord North, against the Dissenters’ Toleration Bill, then before Parliament. This petition embodied a protest against the principle of allowing dissenting ministers and schoolmasters to preach and teach without making any profession of belief in Christianity or revelation, but the petitioners were careful to describe themselves as friends of toleration, so far as it could be reconciled with the interests of Christianity and the Established Church. These were the sentiments of the King himself, and a crowning proof of its fidelity to George III. was given by the University in 1783, when it publicly thanked the King for dismissing the Coalition Ministry (including its own Chancellor), and giving his confidence to Pitt—a service which the king rewarded by visiting Oxford twice from Nuneham Park, in 1785 and 1786. On each occasion he received an enthusiastic welcome, but as it was in the middle of the Long Vacation, he stayed but a few hours, and the traditional solemnities of royal visits were not repeated. A like enthusiasm was shown by the University on his recovery from his first illness in 1788.