first master of St. John's, was also a fellow of Pembroke. Like CHAP. IV. Rotheram when master of Pembroke, Story when master of Michaelhouse, Fisher when president of Queens', the head of a college was often at the same time the holder of a bishopric1. pastimes. really the the town. Of the sports and pastimes of these days we have little Sports and record; but we know the use of the crossbow to have been a favorite accomplishment; cock-fighting, that 'last infirmity' of the good Ascham, was also a common amusement; while from certain college statutes requiring that no 'fierce birds' shall be introduced within the precincts of the college, we may infer that many of the students were emulous of the falconer's art. The river again appears to have possessed Fishing. considerable attractions, though of a kind differing from those of the present day. By legal right it belonged to the town, The river being held by the corporation with all and singular waters, property of fishings, pastures, feedings, etc.,' in fee simple of the crown3; and let it be added to their credit, that the men of Cambridge, though they might have been puzzled to furnish a chemical analysis of the waters of their native stream, nevertheless did their best to guard it from pollution, and any attempt to treat it as a common sewer was met by prompt action on the part of the town authorities*. In another respect they were less able to protect their property. They asserted their claim not merely to the river but to its produce; and in those days the right of fishing was as jealously guarded in our southern streams as it is to-day in the salmon fisheries of the north. Their rights however were but too often The rights of openly and audaciously ignored. 1 The late Dr Ainslie, in his Inquiry concerning the earliest Masters of the College of Valence Mary, p. 276, a manuscript to which I have had access, even raises the question whether the language of the earliest extant statutes of Pembroke College absolutely requires that the master should not be a layman! He quotes the expression qui nulli facultati sit astrictus: but he also observes that the omission was supplied in the second edition of the statutes by the words dum tamen sacerdos fuerit. He adds I feel satisfied both by this and other passages and by the avowed Even the 'religious' were object of the foundation itself that The early statutes of Peterhouse the corpo ration set at defiance by religious and the university. CHAP. IV. not blameless in this matter, and on one occasion the whole both the community was scandalized by learning that the prior of Barnwell and the mayor, after an angry altercation as to certain rights of fishing at Chesterton, had proceeded to lay violent hands on each other1. But the university appears to have furnished by far the most pertinacious aggressors. It could never be brought to see that the Cam was not its own; and the patience of the burgesses was sorely tried as they saw exultant undergraduates, in broad daylight, continually landing goodly perch and pike to which they had not the shadow of a claim. As a last resource they farmed out their rights piscatorial to a number of 'poor men,' who, it was supposed, as less able to sustain pecuniary loss, would exercise a corresponding vigilance in protecting their property. But the 'poor men' fared no better than the original proprietors; their just complaints were treated with derision; their nets were cut and broken; and they themselves, in the indignantly remonstrant language of the corporation, 'many times driven out of their boats with stones and other like things, to the danger of their bodies and their lives".' Scholars re quired to walks with a It is not uninteresting to note that a custom of the pretake their sent day, which it might be supposed was merely a matter of companion. obvious convenience, the daily walk with a single companion, was originally inculcated by college statute, while this in turn is said to have derived its precedent from apostolic Features of example. The country in those days was soon gained. God's House, standing on the present site of Christ's College, looked out from behind over a wide extent of corn-land. The road the ancient town and university. 1 Cooper, Annals, 1 277. On 2 The pike at this time seems, es- From these entries it would appear that a single pike would often command a higher price than would be given for a turbot in the present day. 3 Cooper, Annals, 1 353. 4 We wish that the fellows who are willing to walk out should seek each other's society, and walk together conversing with each other in pairs on scholarship or on some proper and pleasant topic, and so return together betimes.' Statutes of Canterbury Hall given by Simon Islip, 1366. See also St. John's Statutes, (1516), c. 25; and Whitaker's Whalley, p. 70. to Trumpington was skirted on either side by dreary marshes, CHAP. IV. the marshes to which the steeds of Chaucer's scholars of 'Soler Hall' broke away when liberated by the too cunning miller. Beyond the river, at the 'Backs,' no houses were to be seen until Newnham was reached. Where many a good road now renders intercommunication an easy matter, there was only a narrow and often treacherous path traversing long tracts of oozing mud covered by sedge and rushes. In the town itself, the ground between the river and the Hospital of St. John and Michaelhouse appears to have consisted chiefly of orchards. King's College, on the north side of the chapel, occupied the site of the present new library building; the magnificent chapel rose amid a wide expanse of grass land, with a few private dwellings forming a frontage towards the street. The site of the present senate house was partly occupied by St. Mary's hostel and was partly a vacant space in front of the common schools, the latter being approached by a narrow lane known as University Street, with houses on either side. The encroaching tendencies of the waters were conspicuous in a stream of some size, known as the King's Ditch, which, branching off from the river near St. Catherine's Hall, passed to the east of Petty Cury and Trinity Church, flowing through the grounds of the Franciscans (afterwards those of Sidney College), under Jesus Lane, and then in a direction partly corresponding with the present Park Street across the common, until it rejoined the river near where the locks now stand. In one instance land was to be seen where we now see only water,—the river at the back of Trinity Hall flowing round a little island known by the name of Garrett's Hostel Green. of mediæval actuated by motives as those of modern But the topographical antiquities of Cambridge are not The majority within the scope of the present chapter, and we must now students hasten to bring our sketch of student life in those distant the same days to a close. In looking back at the various features of that life, its arid culture and ascetic discipline, it seems at first not easy to understand how such a career could have attracted large numbers, have excited such displays of enthusiasm, and have nerved men to such prodigies of toil. times. CHAP. IV. But in truth it does not require a very extended acquaintance with the history of learning to be aware, that the subject matter whereon precedent has decided that the intellectual energies of each generation are mainly to be expended has but little to do with the numbers of those who may enter the learned professions. In every age there will always be a certain proportion of individuals with clear brains, retentive memories, and superior powers of mental application. Conscious of these natural gifts they will not fail to turn them to account in those fields where such qualifications come most. prominently into play. The abstract value of the different studies wherein they are required to manifest their ability will be to them a matter of little concern. The subject matter may be congenial or it may be absolutely repellant to the taste of the individual, but his disciplined faculties will be but slightly affected by such considerations, and the irksomeness of the labour will be counterbalanced by the exhilarating consciousness of success. When his object is gained, and he has achieved the distinction or realised the substantial reward at which he aimed, he will feel little inclination for further and more independent research in fields of science or learning associated with the recollection of so many painful hours. He will not indeed be disposed to regard his past labours as time intellectually altogether misspent, for he will be well aware that they involved no small amount of both moral and mental discipline; but if his studies have been pursued entirely with reference to some ulterior end, adjusted throughout solely with regard to the exigencies of severe competition, they will have done little to inspire a genuine love of knowledge or reverence for truth. It may even be well if the race has not overtaxed his powers and left him for the remainder of his life enfeebled both in mind and body. Notwithstanding then the enthusiasm that greeted renowned teachers, the ardour with which disputations were waged and the applause that they evoked, notwithstanding the fortitude with which many students encountered great hardships, we see no reason for concluding that the intellec minority. tual ambition of the large majority of mediæval seekers for CHAP. IV. knowledge was in any way of a higher order than that of subsequent periods. Whenever the eagle glance of genius, whether that of Roger Bacon, Petrarch, or Poggio, surveyed the contests of the schools, it detected the counterfeit and held it up to lasting scorn. But while such were the majority, it seems equally reasonable to suppose that there was also a minority, however small, composed of those who had been attracted to the university by a genuine thirst for knowledge, men to whom it seemed that they could be said to live, only so long as they continued to possess themselves of new truth and daily to engage in the pursuit of more. And if such A possible there were, in those faintly illumined days, it is hard to withhold from them our sympathy and interest. We cannot but feel what a mockery of true knowledge this mediæval culture must have appeared to many a young, ardent, and enquiring spirit. The feats of the dialectician, whose most admired performance was to demonstrate by syllogism the truth of what even to the untutored reason was obviously false the tedious ingenious trifling of the commentators— what fare for those who were seeking to grow in mental stature and to find satisfaction for the doubts within! We Imaginary can picture to ourselves one of this despised minority, some young bachelor standing in quadragesima, weary with the ber. austerities of Lent and harassed by his long probation. It is his last day, and his performance hitherto has earned for him but little credit, for he is one who finds more satisfaction in revolving difficulties within his own mind in his chamber than in attempting an off-hand solution of a quæstio in the schools. His 'determinations' this afternoon are not felicitous, and now he is summing up after a hot disputation between two strapping young north countrymen, each ready of utterance, of indomitable assurance, and with most excellent lungs. He half suspects, from a peculiar gleam in the eye of the opponent, that the latter feels confident that if he, the determiner, were in the respondent's place, he, the opponent, would have him in Bocardo before the act was over. But at last the task is accomplished, though experiences of one of the latter num |