IVCLARE COLLEGE

From the churchyard of Little St Mary’s Church a good idea of the medieval buildings of Peterhouse may be obtained. Unfortunately, James Essex was allowed to do as he liked with the old court somewhere about 1770, and faced it in the hideous, commonplace style of the time. It is astonishing that he allowed the back of the older building, so out of harmony with the cherished classical unities of his day, to remain in so conspicuous a position. But the obvious history of the buildings begins with Dr Andrew Perne’s library, whose later extension with its gabled end and oriel is such a picturesque object in the perspective of Trumpington Street, and contrasts so oddly with the Corinthian portico of the Fitzwilliam Museum, just beyond. Perne’s work is in that familiar, country-house style which, rather later, we associate in Cambridgewith the name of Ralph Symons. The building of 1590 forms the eastern extension of the Hall and Combination Room. It was prolonged in 1632 to stand flush with the present street-pavement. Bishop Matthew Wren made a more notable and more characteristic addition. He built the chapel, which was consecrated in 1632, on a site in the eastern half of the court, just midway between the two wings. At the same time he united his building to the wings by an open cloister supporting a covered gallery. The chapel and cloisters, which divide the court into two unequal halves, have a good deal of picturesqueness, but they are built in a very stilted Italian manner, full of shallow late Gothic detail. The chapel has a considerable reputation founded on its stained glass windows, which are by Professor Aimmüller of Munich. They are astonishing specimens of their art, and reflect the taste of the middle of the century very well. An excellent Flemish east window, contemporary with the building, is usually considered to harmonise very ill with these productions, whose qualities, nevertheless, it considerably enhances.Sᵗ. Peter’s CollegeUnder the GeorgianrégimePeterhouse suffered a great deal. Sir James Burrough of Caius, then neither Master nor a Knight, had a grand plan for taking down Perne’s library and Wren’s cloisters and putting up buildings of his own. Happily, the funds for this undertaking allowedhim to finish only the imposing northern wing, next to Little St Mary’s Church. Like most of his work, this wing, completed in 1742, is in very good taste, and the influence of Gibbs’ building at King’s is to be traced throughout. Nearly half a century later came Essex with a neat taste acquired, perhaps, in the neighbourhood of St Marylebone, and made a beautiful structure exceptionally ugly. Last of all, Mr Francis Gisborne’s trustees, after his death in 1821, built a new western court in the then fashionable sort of Gothic with a part of £20,000 bequeathed to the College in his will. This court calls for little remark.Too late to stay the hand of the spoiler, the Gothic revival has nevertheless done much for Peterhouse. Mr Gilbert G. Scott in 1870 rebuilt the Hall and Combination Room and incorporated in them the remains of the medievalMaster’s Lodge, which had been long ago superseded by the comfortable brick house just across Trumpington Street. Good, unassuming and appropriate work in themselves, these buildings are further decorated with some very successful stained glass by the late Sir Edward Burne-Jones and Mr William Morris. The bright oriel of the Hall is especially beautiful, and the small figures of poets and of the good women of Chaucer’s dream in the windows of the comfortable parlour, share, with the chapel glass, the impartial admiration of the visitor. It is satisfactory to think that this historical college has received some compensation for all the damage inflicted on it.

Sᵗ. Peter’s College

Under the GeorgianrégimePeterhouse suffered a great deal. Sir James Burrough of Caius, then neither Master nor a Knight, had a grand plan for taking down Perne’s library and Wren’s cloisters and putting up buildings of his own. Happily, the funds for this undertaking allowedhim to finish only the imposing northern wing, next to Little St Mary’s Church. Like most of his work, this wing, completed in 1742, is in very good taste, and the influence of Gibbs’ building at King’s is to be traced throughout. Nearly half a century later came Essex with a neat taste acquired, perhaps, in the neighbourhood of St Marylebone, and made a beautiful structure exceptionally ugly. Last of all, Mr Francis Gisborne’s trustees, after his death in 1821, built a new western court in the then fashionable sort of Gothic with a part of £20,000 bequeathed to the College in his will. This court calls for little remark.

Too late to stay the hand of the spoiler, the Gothic revival has nevertheless done much for Peterhouse. Mr Gilbert G. Scott in 1870 rebuilt the Hall and Combination Room and incorporated in them the remains of the medievalMaster’s Lodge, which had been long ago superseded by the comfortable brick house just across Trumpington Street. Good, unassuming and appropriate work in themselves, these buildings are further decorated with some very successful stained glass by the late Sir Edward Burne-Jones and Mr William Morris. The bright oriel of the Hall is especially beautiful, and the small figures of poets and of the good women of Chaucer’s dream in the windows of the comfortable parlour, share, with the chapel glass, the impartial admiration of the visitor. It is satisfactory to think that this historical college has received some compensation for all the damage inflicted on it.

In 1281 Hugh de Balsham, Bishop of Ely, founded St Peter’s College. The reign of Edward I. is the date from which our universities derive their organisation, and in many other ways it marks an epoch in English history. Walter de Merton, Bishop of Rochester, had, seventeen years before, founded Merton College at Oxford.[2]It was therefore emulation which, to a certain extent,inspired Hugh de Balsham in his new departure. He was a native of Cambridgeshire: his native place is about ten miles distant from Cambridge, on the confines of Essex; and he had probably received his education in one of the numerous religious houses which filled the Cambridge of that period. As Bishop of Ely, and therefore as titular abbot of the monastery, he had much to do with the monastic institutions of the town, and it was only natural that, with Walter de Merton’s example before his eyes, he should wish to make his name famous in the same way. He lived just long enough to see the college established and in a fair way to success, with a master and fourteen scholars in residence. His successors at Ely continued his favours to the college, and during the next century we find the names of Bishops Simon Montague, Thomas de L’Isle, Simon Langham and John de Fordham among the benefactors. It is interesting to note how purely local University education must have been at first. Although the first two masters of Peterhouse appear to have been natives of distant parts of England, the names of most of the masters during the fourteenth century recall the neighbouring fenland. Roger of Mildenhall, Ralph of Holbeach, William of Whittlesea, Richard of Wisbech, John of Bottisham, all are natives of Cambridgeshire or the counties immediately adjoining. Thomas of Barnard’s Castle, who became master in 1400, takes us further north, and he is the last of the list who derives his surname from his native place.

The early history of Peterhouse is concerned chiefly with its buildings. Under the rule of John Holbrook (1418-1431) and during the long mastership of Dr Thomas Lane (1431-73) the college assumed a definite shape. The old buildings north of it belong to Holbrook’s mastership. It took in the house of the Friars of the Sack, which existed on part of its site, and thus set a precedent which was followed almost universally—the substitution of learned foundations for monasteries and convents. The Peterhouse of that day, substantially the building of our own time, was scarcely in Cambridge. St Peter’s Church lay north of it, and was itself just outside the Trumpington or South Gate of the town. It had given its name to the college, and was used as its chapel from the earliest period. About the beginning of Edward III.’s reign, the church was pulled down, and the present beautiful church of St Mary’s the Less was built on its site, the college still continuing to use it as their place of worship. We may assume that the scholars were required to assist at mass every morning and at the parochial mass on Sundays, and that they formed, as it were, the choir, using the chancel stalls. They entered the church by the passage and staircase which still exist south of the chancel.

No famous names occur in connection with the college before the Reformation. The early sixteenth century produced a good number of benefactors, and Hugh de Balsham’s original provisions were considerably amplified. In1553 Andrew Perne became master. His fame is largely local, but he is a very significant figure in an age chiefly remarkable for the strength of its religious convictions. His mastership begins at the end of Edward VI.’s reign, and lasted for thirty-six years. He combined with it the Deanery of Ely, and showed great sagacity in the tenure of both offices. During Mary’s reign, he was Chancellor of the University, and under his auspices the burning of Bucer’s and Fagius’ remains took place. However, although this somewhat unnecessary act of vengeance might have stamped his opinions, he seems to have veered at the accession of Elizabeth with great suppleness, and to have trimmed his sails to the royal wind up to the day of his death. The wits of the University made his accommodating policy their butt, and, with the heavy wit of the day, coined the verbpernare, which signified “to turn one’s coat.” Perne, although he possibly merits some contempt, made nevertheless a very good use of his unscrupulous comfort. I have already mentioned his additions to the college. He also originated that water-supply which is now so ornamental a feature in certain parts of the town. The broad gutters along which streams run down Trumpington Street for most of the year were not constructed till after his death, but it was he who first suggested that healthy water might be brought from the neighbouring Gogmagog Hills.

To the society of Peterhouse, for some yearsof Perne’s time, belonged the celebrated John Whitgift. Whitgift was an example of a system which has now ceased to a great extent in Cambridge. He was an undergraduate of Queens’ to begin with; he then obtained a fellowship at Peterhouse, and was in succession Master of Pembroke and Trinity before his elevation to a bishoprick. His connection with Peterhouse is very passing, but, while a member of the college, he held the Lady Margaret Professorship of Divinity. In 1567, when he became Master of Pembroke, he vacated it for the Regius Professorship, which he held until his translation to the See of Worcester. At the same time Peterhouse held also another professor, Dr Thomas Lorkin, who occupied the Regius Chair of Physic. Professorships were then commonly held with other offices, and John Richardson, fellow of Emmanuel, who was Master of Peterhouse from 1609 to 1615 was also Regius Professor of Divinity.

Richardson became Master of Trinity in 1615. In the time of his successor, Thomas Turner, one of Peterhouse’s most celebrated sons was in residence, the poet Richard Crashaw. The beginning of the sixteenth century found many poets at Cambridge, of whom Crashaw is certainly not the least remarkable. Like George Herbert, who was some twenty years his senior, he was brought up in the traditions of the Church of England, but scarcely had time to prove his principles before the outbreak of the Civil War. He was by temperament a mystic, and his earlylove-poems show a certain religious tendency. It is probable that his study of St Theresa and the bigotry of the Puritan party drove him, between them, into the Church of Rome. He eventually took orders and died as a Canon of Loreto. His mystical poems have become very fashionable of late years, and he certainly deserves a very high place among our lyric poets. He was also a musician. Although we know little of his life at Cambridge, it is certain that he must have been a prominent figure in the intellectual life of a period when University life was entirely intellectual.

In 1632 the chapel was finished and was consecrated in the next year by Bishop Francis White of Ely. Next year the master, Dr Matthew Wren, was succeeded by Dr John Cosin. The new master was one of the most acute theologians of the century, and was deeply impressed, like most contemporary churchmen, with the possibilities of the Church of England. He was one of the first to vindicate its position and maintain its orders as valid. His proceedings at Peterhouse were hardly popular. Cambridge has never been guilty of over-rating external forms of worship, and, in the case of Cosin, she showed her indignation very plainly. The Puritans were furious at his ritual; they complained of his bowings and genuflexions, and of the crucifix he set up over the altar of his chapel. In 1643 the iconoclast Dowsing paid a visit to Cambridge, and used the most drastic remedies at Peterhouse. Fortunately, the beautifuleast window, which would have provoked his zealous wrath, was hidden by the Society and escaped damage. Cosin was ejected by Parliament in 1644, and for sixteen years the college was ruled by Lazarus Seaman. Cosin returned at the Restoration, and the “idols” were restored to their proper place. But in the same year Cosin was rewarded for his long exile with the See of Durham. In the magnificent chapel which he built at Auckland Castle, we may trace in some measure his affection to Peterhouse; for its beautiful late Gothic was doubtless suggested by Dr Wren’s chapel.

Cosin has had no very conspicuous successors. He was the last Master of Peterhouse but one who became a bishop. His immediate predecessors, Leonard Maw and Matthew Wren, were both translated to bishopricks: Maw to Bath and Wells, and Wren, whose name is most famous, to Ely. During the time of Dr Law,* Bishop of Carlisle, who was master from 1754 to 1788, and filled for a short time the chair of Moral Philosophy, the poet Gray was obliged to change his residence to Pembroke. Gray is one of those persons, uncommon in the last century, who saw beauty in nature, and he became a kind of artistic apostle at Cambridge. This position, which usually connotes a superiority amounting to superciliousness, did not render him popular at Peterhouse. He had a horror of fire, and kept a fire-escape attached to his window. One night, some of the more normal members of the college raisedan alarm of fire, and Gray descended his fire-escape into a bucket of water which had been prepared for him. Having all that lack of humour which is distinctive of æsthetic reformers, he migrated to Pembroke, where he seems to have been better appreciated than in his own college. He lived in Pembroke for the last twenty-five years of his life, and, for the last three (1768-71), was Regius Professor of Modern History.

Dr Law died in 1788, and was succeeded by Dr Francis Barnes,* who continued in his seat for fifty years, holding, like his predecessor, the Professorship of Moral Philosophy from 1813 to his death in 1838. Then Dr Hodgson was master for nine years, and his successor, Dr Cookson, was succeeded in 1876 by the present Master. Among the notable men of the present day Peterhouse claims the Archbishop of York and Lord Kelvin.* Through Lord Kelvin’s generosity, it was the first college in Cambridge to use electric light. None of the rest have adopted this modern improvement till quite recently, and even now it is by no means general. Peterhouse, however, has kept up its traditions and occupies a leading place in the history of scientific progress: for, beside Lord Kelvin, its books contain the names of the mathematician Dr Routh* and the well-known Professor Dewar (* Orchardson).

Clare College

Loggan, in his invaluableCantabrigia Illustrata, gives us two views of the court of Clare, the first a bird’s-eye view of the whole building, the second an elevation of the north side, as it was completed at the end of Queen Anne’s reign. The college had to pass through some trouble before its buildings were completed. After its foundation in 1342, a court was built which lasted till 1525. It was then injured by fire. The remains were taken down, and preparations were made for a new building, which was not begun till 1638, an unfortunate period. During the Civil Wars, the work was at a standstill, and the north side, built principally during the mastership of Dr Samuel Blythe (1678-1713), was not actually finished till 1715. Sir George Downing, then a fellow commoner, contributed to its completion. Later, in 1769,the present Chapel was built from the designs of the Master of Caius, Sir James Burrough. Clare thus presents examples of three distinct periods in Renaissance work. The earliest portion is the eastern side of the court with the gateway, the beauty of which cannot be too highly praised. The style is the fantastic Italian Gothic of the period, mixed largely with classical forms; but the work is free from what Mr Ruskin would call insincerity. It is useful to compare it with the chapel at Peterhouse, consecrated five years before this was begun. Its characteristics are those of all the cultured work of the early Stewart period, and have points in common with a building like Ingestre Hall near Stafford, which has unfortunately perished by fire. The south side is of the same date; the admirable proportions of this part of the court may be seen from the grounds of King’s. On the western side is a building of the time of Charles II. and James II. Its inner face harmonises fairly well with the rest, but debased forms, such as the meaningless broken arch, appear. The river front is pure Palladian, and the effect ofthe order of pilasters which runs through the two upper stories is very harsh. The northern face of the court is good, solid, ugly Queen Anne work, which has, of late years, been spoiled rather than improved. On this side is the Hall with great sash-windows, which the famous Clare creeper does not succeed in hiding. The Chapel is a plain building of excellent proportions. Internally, it has most of the virtues and faults of a Georgian college chapel: the domical antechapel is an original feature. On the whole, Clare, which covers less ground than most colleges, is, architecturally, among the best; but it is a pity that all was not carried out in the style of the western side, which is almost unrivalled in any country, considering its date. The celebrated bridge, not unlike the Kitchen Bridge at St John’s, belongs to the reign of Charles I. and is therefore contemporary with the older part of the court. It is well set off by its charming surroundings. The architect of this bridge, completed in 1640, was Robert Grumbold, who was master-mason to the college, and worked at Great St Mary’s as well as at Clare.

Clare Bridge

The idea of Clare Hall originated with Richard de Badew, who, in 1326, while Chancellor of the University, founded a small college called University Hall. The first master of this new foundation was Walter of Thaxted. But, in the twelfth year of its existence, the college was burned down. Usually the present college dates its foundation from 1338, when the rebuilding began, but the actual date atwhich Elizabeth de Burgh took over the foundation was 1342. She was daughter and coheir of Gilbert, Count of Clare, Hertford and Gloucester. Clare lies on the border of Suffolk and Essex, and the college was essentially an Essex colony. Two of the early masters, Walter of Thaxted and William of Radwinter, came from villages in the same part of the county, and their names, occurring not far apart, argue a certain feeling in favour of natives of the district. There was for a long time a tradition that Clare Hall was the Soler Hall of Chaucer’sReve’s Tale, but it is not necessary to suppose that Chaucer had any particular college in his mind. His use of the epithet “great” may point to Clare and distinguish it from the numerous hostels which were then springing up in Cambridge; but there can be no certainty on the point. Chaucer merely borrowed a tale from Boccaccio and put it into English dress, without any particular accuracy of detail.

Clare has, on the whole, no very momentous annals. Hugh Latimer,* the famous Bishop of Worcester, was a member of this foundation, and,as Fellow of Clare, preached in St Edward’s Church. Until the foundation of King’s, the chapel of Clare was the parish church of St John the Baptist, which stood on the south side of the college. After St John’s had been removed to make way for King’s, Clare shared the possession of St Edward’s Church with Trinity Hall. Latimer, however, is by no means the typical theologian of Clare. The worthies of the college are chiefly religious, and, a century after, it contributed to the Laudian revival. When James I. paid his visit to Cambridge, he was entertained with a comedy at Clare. The name of the piece was “Ignoramus” and its author was Mr George Ruggle, one of the society. It satirised the civil law, which was then doing its best to oust the canon law, and James, who always had a keen sympathy for the obsolete, was hugely delighted. Some years before, Ruggle had satirised the townsfolk in a play calledClub-Law, to which the Corporation were invited. The absence of good feeling which marked such an invitation explains the “town and gown rows” common at this period.

A less festive spirit than George Ruggle was Nicholas Ferrar,* who appears at Clare about the same time. Ferrar ranks with Herbert and Crashaw as the third of the mystics and pietists whom Cambridge sent out during the seventeenth century. He became famous as the head of what he called the “Protestant Nunnery.” It was established at Little Gidding, an out-of-the-way village in Huntingdonshire, and consisted ofFerrar, some members of his family, and some near relations, who devoted themselves to contemplation and works of piety. The neighbourhood of Little Gidding to Cambridge was probably felt in the University, and there is the strongest probability that men like Cosin and Andrewes came over from Cambridge very often, and went into retreat, as we say, with Ferrar. A man of this type was the great Peter Gunning,* Fellow of Clare and Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity. In 1661 he exchanged his offices for those of Regius Professor and Master of Corpus, which he soon left for St John’s.

While the new court of Clare was building, the Commonwealth came, and with it the mastership of Ralph Cudworth. This profound thinker held the chair of Hebrew with his mastership, and continued to hold it till his death in 1688. He is certainly one of the most extraordinary figures of his age at Cambridge, but his history and that of the band whose leader he was, belong more properly to the annals of Christ’s. Almost a contemporary of Cudworth’s was Archbishop Tillotson,* who, at this date in his career, was a Puritan, like many of the youth at Cambridge. He later found his true vocation in the Church of England, and his sermons have achieved a greater fame than Cudworth’s abstract treatises, although their merits are perhaps less.

Theophilus Dillingham succeeded Cudworth, and was Archdeacon of Bedford as well as master. He continued the buildings, and a successful completion was reached under thesubsequent mastership of Samuel Blythe. From this time forward the history of Clare was peaceful and monotonous. It produced a very eccentric son in William Whiston, known as the admirable translator of Josephus. Whiston was an astronomer and a proficient mathematician. He preceded Sir Isaac Newton as Lucasian Professor, resigning his chair in 1711. He was always open to the influence of new and uncommon theories, and died a Baptist with a strong tendency to Fifth-Monarchy principles.

Clare was the college of that famous statesman, Thomas Holles Pelham,* Duke of Newcastle, whose personal peculiarities are ridiculed in Smollett’sHumphrey Clinker. Pelham was Chancellor of the University from 1748 to 1768, having previously filled the office of High Steward. His Chancellorship is the last important event in the history of the College. It has, since then, under the fortunate and prolonged rule of four masters, extending over a century and a half, maintained its ancient prestige, and now, although one of the smallest of the colleges in point of buildings, the number of its undergraduates is exceptionally large and shows no signs of decreasing. Among its present members it numbers several men of great eminence, of whom, to Cambridge men, the most familiar is the present Woodwardian Professor, Dr McKenny Hughes.

Modern architects have taken such delight in seeing what can be done with Pembroke that we have scarcely any vestiges of the old building. The long, low street front of the first court, a reminiscence of Oxford, with its double oriel, was refaced in 1726. It was the era of Gibbs and Burrough, and the treatment is therefore thoroughly conservative. But since then, Archbishop Rotherham’s fine, monastic plan has been ruthlessly spoiled. The oldest existing part is the Ivy Court, a pretty double range of rooms at the back of the Hall. The north side dates from 1633; the south, or Hitcham Building, from 1659, at which period Rotherham’s Library still formed the upper storey of the Hall, and the Chapel stood in the north-west corner of the first court. Bishop Wren’s chapel superseded the latter buildingafter the Restoration. It was consecrated in 1667, and is in curious contrast with the same prelate’s chapel of 1632 at Peterhouse. His nephew, the great Sir Christopher Wren, was the architect of this building and the adjoining cloister, which is so pleasant a feature of the western side of the court. Wren’s genius is clearly visible in the stately unpretentious exterior; but inside, the chapel is cold and ineffective. Stained glass of the type which has been employed at the east end of St Paul’s Cathedral, is wanted to complete the design.Pembroke CollegePembroke escaped Essex and Wilkins, but it can hardly be congratulated on what it has acquired instead. The south side of the old court has perished; the quaint two-storied building which contained the Hall and Library, has disappeared, and, instead, we have the modern Hall, a very insignificant Gothic apartment quite out of keeping with the traditions of Pembroke. Mr Waterhouse’s street front, south of the chapel, is quite the worst modern building in Cambridge so far as appearance goes; his library and clock-tower are, fortunately, in a not very obtrusive position. Of late years, Mr G.G. Scott has built a very pretty court in a French Renaissance style at the back of the college, where Downing Street meets Tennis Court Lane, but, in building the Laboratory opposite in precisely the same style, he has committed an error which he would have done well to avoid. This court belongs to 1883; the Master’s Lodge, between it and the rest of the college, is by Waterhouse, and was finished ten years earlier.

Pembroke College

Pembroke escaped Essex and Wilkins, but it can hardly be congratulated on what it has acquired instead. The south side of the old court has perished; the quaint two-storied building which contained the Hall and Library, has disappeared, and, instead, we have the modern Hall, a very insignificant Gothic apartment quite out of keeping with the traditions of Pembroke. Mr Waterhouse’s street front, south of the chapel, is quite the worst modern building in Cambridge so far as appearance goes; his library and clock-tower are, fortunately, in a not very obtrusive position. Of late years, Mr G.G. Scott has built a very pretty court in a French Renaissance style at the back of the college, where Downing Street meets Tennis Court Lane, but, in building the Laboratory opposite in precisely the same style, he has committed an error which he would have done well to avoid. This court belongs to 1883; the Master’s Lodge, between it and the rest of the college, is by Waterhouse, and was finished ten years earlier.

“O Domus antiqua et religiosa!” said Queen Elizabeth, as she passed by the gates of Pembroke Hall. Very few colleges deserve the epithet better, for Pembroke has been one of the most religious of all Cambridge foundations, and its history is closely connected with the Church. Like Clare, Pembroke owes its origin to a woman. Marie de St Paul, daughter of Guy, Count of St Paul and Châtillon, married Aymer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke. There is a legend that the Earl was killed at a tournament on his wedding day, and Gray embodied the tradition in his noble Installation Ode—

“Sad Châtillon, on her bridal morn,That wept her princely love.”

“Sad Châtillon, on her bridal morn,

That wept her princely love.”

History, however, has made short work with this story. At all events, after her husband’s death, the Countess retired from the world, and, among other charitable works, founded PembrokeHall or, as she called it, the Hall of Valence-Mary. This name did not continue long in use; the college was very soon known, on the analogy of Clare, as Pembroke Hall, and the title of College was given to it in the last century. The foundation dates from 1347, when a Master, fifteen scholars and four Bible-clerks were established on the present site. Robert de Thorpe was first master.

Pembroke is intimately connected with the revival of learning in England. Henry VI. contributed generously to the foundation, and practically set it upon a new footing. Laurence Booth, who became master in 1450 and held the office until his death, was a man of great learning. His ecclesiastical promotion was rapid; he became Bishop of Durham in 1457, and Archbishop of York in 1476. Thomas Rotherham* succeeded him as Archbishop of York and Master of Pembroke. Rotherham, whose actual surname was Scott, was one of the most active promoters of learning in England. He had previously filled the sees of Rochester and Lincoln, and was Archbishop of York for twenty-one years. While Bishop of Lincoln, he had built the east side of the University Library, and he became the second founder of Lincoln College at Oxford. As Lord Chancellor of England, his political career was stormy. Fuller, in speaking of his library at Pembroke, says “Many have mistaken this for the performance of Richard the Third, merely because his Crest theBoaris set up therein. Whereas the truthis thatRotheramhaving felt the sharp Tuskes of thatBoar(when imprisoned by the aforesaid King for resigning the Great Seal of England to Queen Elizabeth, the relict of King Edward the Fourth) advanced his arms thereon that he might ingratiate himself.” Rotherham fell on more peaceful days when Henry VII. came to the throne. He resigned the mastership in 1488, and died of the plague at Cawood in 1501.

Curiously enough, the next master but two, Richard Foxe (* copy of Oxford pictures) founded Corpus Christi College at Oxford, just as Rotherham had re-founded Lincoln. He was at that time Master of Pembroke and Bishop of Winchester. Foxe was one of the greatest prelates of that great age. His benefactions to learning were innumerable and priceless; three colleges at Oxford and three at Cambridge count him among their benefactors; his splendid chantry at Winchester, one of the finest pieces of Renaissance sculpture which we possess, is entirely characteristic of this princely ecclesiastic. His enlightened religious views made him the friend and patron of the great scholars who flourished during the reign of Henry VII. He was also remarkable for his political activity; he was the chief agent in the establishment of the Tudor dynasty, and was one of the supporters of the throne against Perkin Warbeck’s rebellion. Ford, in his historical drama ofPerkin Warbeck, drew Foxe’s character with admirable force. He died in 1528, old and almost blind, but still retaining all his vigourand adhering to his bishoprick with great tenacity. Foxe may be regarded as one of our earliest and wisest Reformers: he died too early for the final quarrel with Rome, but there can hardly be any doubt that he would have exerted his influence to prevent a formal breach.

A reformer of a different kind was Nicholas Ridley,* master from 1540 to 1553, and Bishop of London during the last three of these thirteen years. It is easy to see the tendencies which the enthusiasm of Rotherham and Foxe for the New Learning had directed, in the fact that Bradford* and Rogers, also martyrs for Protestantism, were members of this college. After Elizabeth’s accession, Edmund Grindal,* a Protestant of a somewhat extreme type, became master for three years, during which, like Ridley, he held the see of London. He resigned the mastership in 1562. In 1570 he was translated from London to York, and in 1575 became Archbishop of Canterbury. His successor at Pembroke was the equally famous Matthew Hutton, a learned theologian. His life was closely connected with Cambridge; he took his bachelor’s degree in 1551, and ten years later, became Margaret Professor. Becoming head of Pembroke in the following year, he obtained the Regius Professorship of Divinity. He also was married twice to ladies of the neighbourhood. His first wife, Katherine Fulmetby, was niece to Bishop Goodrich of Ely; his second, Beatrice Fincham, also came from Ely. In 1567 he was made Dean of York and left Pembroke. Hispreferment was almost entirely due to his scholastic disputations before Elizabeth on her visit to Cambridge. While at York, he married a third time, with the true zeal of a post-Reformation prelate for the married state. He was made Bishop of Durham in 1589 and was translated to York in 1594. His effigy, brilliantly painted and attired in the costume of an Elizabethan prelate, stands upright against the south wall of the choir at York Minster.

Whitgift’s mastership, lasting for a few months in 1567, gives another Archbishop to Pembroke. But he soon left the college for Trinity. Twenty-two years later, Lancelot Andrewes* became master. As Bishop successively of Chichester, Ely and Winchester, his name is familiar to students of the Laudian movement. He was one of those great men who, by their spirituality rather than their energy, vindicated the Church of England from Papal claims on one side and from Genevan doctrine on the other. He is buried, as is well known, in the Collegiate Church of St Saviour at Southwark. His influence is noticeable in the characters of his immediate successors. Samuel Harsnet, master from 1605 to 1616, was also Bishop of Chichester from 1609 to 1619 and of Norwich from 1619 to 1629; and distinguished himself in all these offices by his peaceful and devout spirit. Nicholas Felton,* Bishop of Bristol, was master from 1616 to 1618, and Bishop of Ely from 1619 to 1628. His next successor but one, Benjamin Laney,* was a stout Royalist, andwas conspicuous for his fidelity to the exiled King during the Commonwealth. At the Restoration, he received much recompense. He was made Bishop of Peterborough in 1660, Bishop of Lincoln in 1663, and Bishop of Ely in 1667. This unique example of promotion in the Eastern sees closes the list of Pembroke bishops for some time. Since then, the most famous prelate connected with the college has been Edward Maltby,* Bishop of Chichester in 1831 and of Durham from 1836 to 1856. He was the first of the Bishops of Durham under the regulations by which at the death of Bishop Van Mildert, the Prince-Bishoprick was finally disestablished.

While these “men of much motion and promotion” were occupying the mastership of the college, the foundation was not without its famous sons. They are not, however, very many, and the chief lustre of the college seems to have found its centre in the master. Richard Crashaw was in residence here for some time, doubtless attracted by the saintly fame of the masters of the Stewart epoch. But undoubtedly the greatest son of the college is Edmund Spenser,* who entered the house probably during Hutton’s mastership. Of this splendid name Pembroke may well be proud, although it has no very intimate relation with the life of the University. Bishop Matthew Wren,* Master of Peterhouse, was a fellow here. His benefactions are remarkable; they include the fine chapel. He also bequeathed his silver mitre tothe College; and this, although somewhat ugly in itself, is one of the most valuable pieces of plate in Cambridge.

Passing over the age of Anne and George I. we come to the long mastership of Dr Roger Long (* Benj. Wilson) who ruled the college from 1733 to 1770. Long became Lowndean Professor of Astronomy in 1750. His astronomical studies were commemorated at Pembroke by a hollow sphere of metal, which had a diameter of eighteen feet and was a complete guide to the solar system. It was contained in a building which terminated the north side of the second court, but it was destroyed in 1871. Dr Long was also much interested in the liberal arts; he was a musician and mechanic; he was also a wit of a not very refined order. His “Musick Speech” delivered in Great St Mary’s at the Commencement of 1714, is quoted in Mr J. W. Clark’s book on Cambridge. He was then fellow of his college. As master, he was a friend of Thomas Gray. When that sensitive poet left Peterhouse, he met with a royal reception at Pembroke, which proves that the college was progressive in the direction of culture. Gray joined the society, and resided in the second court for fifteen years. His rooms were famous for their comfort in a day when no one thought of furnishing a room with more than a table and a few chairs, and the blue pots in his window were the wonder of Cambridge. He was devoted to his adopted college, and the influence of its structure may be traced in severalpassages of his poems. From 1768 to 1771, he held the chair of Modern History. There are one or two portraits of him in the college. That by Benjamin Wilson, now in the Combination Room, was painted after his death. Another poet, his close friend and personal admirer, William Mason (* Reynolds) belonged to the society for many years, and died in 1797.

If among poets Pembroke claims Spenser, she can also claim William Pitt among statesmen. There are two portraits of the illustrious Prime Minister, one, by Harlow, in the Hall; the other, by Gainsborough, in the Combination Room. Pitt is, however, the property not so much of a single college as of the University, whose politics have been largely directed by his memory. His name is preserved in the Pitt Club, which was established soon after his death and took his coat of arms. It is to-day the best social club in the University, and has rooms in Jesus Lane. In later years, Pembroke elected John Couch Adams (* Herkomer), the discoverer of Neptune, to a fellowship, thus adding to a list which, if not long, is at least highly distinguished. Under the mastership of Dr Searle (* Ouless), who was elected in 1880, it has become an exceedingly popular college, and its numbers are very largely augmented. Dr Edward Bickersteth, the late Bishop of the Church of England in Japan, was among the most celebrated of its recent members, and held an Honorary Fellowship. The present Bishop of Wakefield is the latest addition to its roll of prelates.

The arrangement of buildings at Caius is rather curious, and no Cambridge college has been so transformed since its foundation. The chapel is between the two lesser courts; the hall is at the back of everything, and its position is far from obvious. Caius may be said to consist of two halves: the first half, to the east, borders Trinity Street, and is the New Court; the second and westerly half is an oblong bounded on three sides by narrow lanes and on the other by the rest of the college. This second half is again split into two halves, the northern of which, nearest Trinity Lane, is Gonville Court, and represents the ancient college removed here in 1353 from the other end of King’s Parade. Beneath its somewhat modern front an immense quantity of the original work still exists, and fourteenth-century windows have been discovered.The old hall and chapel have disappeared, although part of the present chapel may belong to the original buildings. Caius, however, in refounding the college, altered everything. He built an additional court, south of the ancient college. This, too, has been refaced, and is, for the most part, a comfortable quadrangle of Queen Anne date. But the gates which Caius, giving play to a strange fancy, built for his college, are still entire. His Gate of Humility, a mere postern in the outer buildings, exists no longer; but Mr Waterhouse preserved the idea in his new building, and recently his gate has, in accordance with the founder’s design, been made once again the principal entrance. The Gate of Virtue, leading from the new court into Caius Court, is a tall Italian building, in which Gothic and Renaissance forms are most curiously blended. The Italian appearance of the design is due, no doubt, to the corner turret, which introduces a very picturesque element into a simple plan.While the Gate of Virtue subordinates its ornament to general effect, the last gate, the Gate of Honour, leading appropriately to theSenate House and schools, attracts by beauty of detail. It was finished in 1574, the year after Caius’ death, and its design, the heavy architrave with an Ionic order, and the hexagonal, domed structure at the top, is purely classical. It is the most charming building of its date in England, and is a good instance of that love of mere fancy which marks the builders of the late Italian Renaissance. Caius’ architect was a certain Theodore Have of Cleves in the Rhenish provinces, who also remodelled the chapel between this and Gonville’s court, and probably designed the sarcophagus in which Caius is buried. The bell-tower of the chapel, which agrees very well with the two gateways, is comparatively new. It is worth while to enter the chapel, which, although, after numerous alterations, it is of no particular date or style, has a very pleasant interior, and, in addition to Caius’ monument, contains that of Dr Perse, the founder of the Perse Free School in Cambridge. This excellent gentleman, who died in 1617, built most of the original entrance court of the college, in which Caius’ Gate of Humility was incorporated. In Loggan’s beautiful view ofCaius, these buildings seem to have been of the same style as those in the second court of St John’s College, the style of which Ralph Symons built so many delightful examples in Cambridge. They belong to 1617. The portion of this court south of the Gate of Humility was built in 1619, in accordance with the will of a late master, Dr Legge.In 1719, the older courts were faced and the chapel was newly decorated. This work was continued at intervals through the century. Mr (afterwards Sir James) Burrough was a fellow in these days, and was the leading spirit in the work. The college remained untouched until the mastership of the late Dr Guest. Then, in 1854, Salvin built the Hall, whose exterior is as hideous as the interior, with its fine open timber roof, is imposing and beautiful. In 1867 Mr Waterhouse entirely rebuilt Perse’s court, and, in the following year, added an apse to the chapel. His court has given a new feature to Cambridge, certainly. But, where colleges are concerned, Mr Waterhouse is not happy, and this huge pile, with its square windows, its pyramidal tower, medallions, and rows of waterspouts,would make a praiseworthy bank or hotel, but, in its present position, is painfully incongruous.

While the Gate of Virtue subordinates its ornament to general effect, the last gate, the Gate of Honour, leading appropriately to theSenate House and schools, attracts by beauty of detail. It was finished in 1574, the year after Caius’ death, and its design, the heavy architrave with an Ionic order, and the hexagonal, domed structure at the top, is purely classical. It is the most charming building of its date in England, and is a good instance of that love of mere fancy which marks the builders of the late Italian Renaissance. Caius’ architect was a certain Theodore Have of Cleves in the Rhenish provinces, who also remodelled the chapel between this and Gonville’s court, and probably designed the sarcophagus in which Caius is buried. The bell-tower of the chapel, which agrees very well with the two gateways, is comparatively new. It is worth while to enter the chapel, which, although, after numerous alterations, it is of no particular date or style, has a very pleasant interior, and, in addition to Caius’ monument, contains that of Dr Perse, the founder of the Perse Free School in Cambridge. This excellent gentleman, who died in 1617, built most of the original entrance court of the college, in which Caius’ Gate of Humility was incorporated. In Loggan’s beautiful view ofCaius, these buildings seem to have been of the same style as those in the second court of St John’s College, the style of which Ralph Symons built so many delightful examples in Cambridge. They belong to 1617. The portion of this court south of the Gate of Humility was built in 1619, in accordance with the will of a late master, Dr Legge.

In 1719, the older courts were faced and the chapel was newly decorated. This work was continued at intervals through the century. Mr (afterwards Sir James) Burrough was a fellow in these days, and was the leading spirit in the work. The college remained untouched until the mastership of the late Dr Guest. Then, in 1854, Salvin built the Hall, whose exterior is as hideous as the interior, with its fine open timber roof, is imposing and beautiful. In 1867 Mr Waterhouse entirely rebuilt Perse’s court, and, in the following year, added an apse to the chapel. His court has given a new feature to Cambridge, certainly. But, where colleges are concerned, Mr Waterhouse is not happy, and this huge pile, with its square windows, its pyramidal tower, medallions, and rows of waterspouts,would make a praiseworthy bank or hotel, but, in its present position, is painfully incongruous.

Very shortly after Marie de Valence had founded Pembroke, Edmund Gonville, rector of Terrington St Clement’s in Norfolk, founded Gonville Hall for the instruction of twenty scholars in dialect and other sciences. He found a site for his hall in what is now Free School Lane, just behind St Botolph’s Church. The foundation took place in 1348, and, during Gonville’s lifetime, the name given to the hall was “The Hall of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin.” But Gonville died in 1351, when his executor, the famous William Bateman, Bishop of Norwich, removed the buildings and placed them opposite his own college of Trinity Hall. Henceforward, the college was known as Gonville Hall, and the old name was retained when Caius re-founded it. The small society—for the college was at first very poor—took possession of its new tenements in 1353, when William de Rougham became master. The previous master of the house in Free School Lane was John Colton, who became Primate of Ireland; and among the masters of Gonville Hall we find the names of John Rickingale, Bishop of Chichester in 1426, and John Skippe, Bishop of Hereford in 1539.

It was during the mastership of Skippe’s predecessor, William Bokenham, that John Caiusentered the college as an undergraduate. After he had taken his degree he was for a few years Principal of Physwick Hostel, a small house affiliated to Gonville Hall. He left Cambridge, however, about 1540, and travelled to foreign universities, studying medicine at Padua and other academies. He was a man of culture, and his taste was doubtless stimulated by the splendid productions of the Italian Renaissance. We may, in fact, regard him as one of the greatest English humanists, and, like so many of them, as one of the greatest benefactors to his university. On his return to England he practised as a physician, and received the appointment of court physician to Edward VI. and, afterwards, to Queen Mary. In 1555, he was elected President of the College of Physicians. Having thus risen to considerable eminence, he determined to do something for Gonville Hall. Philip and Mary granted him letters patent in 1557, with which he refounded the college. In this way he gave that impetus to medical study which has since made Caius pre-eminently a doctor’s college. His beautiful buildings are sufficient testimony to the elegant taste which he had matured in Italy. Thomas Bacon, master of Gonville Hall and first master of the new foundation, died in 1559, and the society elected Caius to the mastership. At first he was reluctant to accept the dignity, and prevailed so far as to refuse his income as master. His mastership lasted until his death in 1573. He was one of the most disinterested of all Cambridgebenefactors, and his learning and talents are beyond praise. One odd feature of his career, which is very characteristic of the uncritical spirit of the time, is his dispute with Dr Key of Oxford as to the relative antiquity of the two universities. To some astonishing legend of Key’s, he replied that Cambridge was founded in the year 3538B.C.by one Cantaber, a Spanish prince, alleging many weighty statements on behalf of his accurate chronology. HisHistory of Cambridgecontains more trustworthy information than this, but he was singularly prone to the acceptation of spurious etymologies and vain traditions. His contemporaries held him to be something of an atheist, and complained that he showed “a perverse stomach to professors of the gospel.” This probably means little more than that he was content with the old religion. He died away from Cambridge, but his body was brought from London to be buried. It was met at Trumpington Ford by the Vice-Chancellor and a procession, who escorted it into Cambridge with almost royal honours.

Among other gifts to the college, Caius left the silver mace encircled with serpents, which is calledCaduceus prudentis gubernatoris. It was directed to be carried in procession before the master with theLiber Cognitionisand thePulvinar reverentiae. There are three portraits of Caius in various parts of the college. That in the Hall, which represents him holding a pink, is the best.

A notable son of Gonville Hall was SirThomas Gresham, well known as the founder of the Royal Exchange. He died in 1579, so that he had probably taken his degree before Caius’ time. Caius was succeeded in the mastership by Dr Legge, a lawyer and Master in Chancery, who was also Regius Professor of Civil Law. In his day came into residence William Harvey of Folkestone, one of the great glories of the college. His discovery of the circulation of the blood created a revolution in medical science. There are three portraits of Harvey in Caius: one of them, in the Master’s Lodge, is attributed to Rembrandt; another in the Combination Room, is a replica of the picture at the Royal College of Physicians. Another great doctor, John Gostlin,* Regius Professor of Physic, became master in 1618. He is said to have objected to the wearing of boots as “more fit for gallants than for civil students.” He also gave the Bull Inn, which was his property, to Catharine Hall.

If Caius has its doctors, it has also its prelates. William Linwood, Lord Keeper under Henry VI., and Bishop of St David’s in 1442, is commemorated by one of the medallions on the west front. A famous name among others is that of Nicholas Shaxton, Bishop of Salisbury in 1535. The long mastership of Thomas Batchcroft,* who was ejected by the Parliamentary Commissioners and restored in 1660, was distinguished by the residence of Jeremy Taylor. This great divine’s father was a barber in Cambridge, and sent his son to Dr Perse’s newFree School. Naturally, as a scholar brought up at a school which had been founded from Caius, Taylor became an undergraduate at Caius. He was a precocious theologian, and early attracted the notice of Laud, who transferred him to Oxford and procured him a fellowship at All Souls’. He became Bishop of Down and Connor, and died at Lisburn in 1667. Among theologians his name stands very high, and, as a writer of English, he is in his own style unsurpassed. Cosin also, a no less illustrious example of piety and devout Churchmanship, was bred at Caius, before he became Master of Peterhouse. Both Taylor and Cosin figure in the medallions of the façade. The portrait of Taylor in the Hall is a copy of his picture at All Souls’. There is also a portrait of Cosin painted in 1666. Other prelates of this period are Francis Marsh, Bishop of Limerick and Archbishop of Dublin, Hartstrong, Bishop of Ossory, and Francis White, Bishop, first of Norwich, and then of Ely. To much the same date belongs Judge Jeffreys. A very disreputable undergraduate was Titus Oates, of whom a vehement writer says that he was “a liar from the beginning, cheated his tailor of a gown, which he denied with horrid imprecations.” His career at Cambridge had a sudden end, but he managed to obtain a doctor’s degree at Salamanca. Thomas Shadwell, who is famous as one of Dryden’sbêtes noires, was also a member of Caius.

Robert Brady,* Keeper of the Recordsand Regius Professor of Physic, was master for forty years after Batchcroft’s death. He was a supporter of the royal prerogative in its most extreme form, and wrote a History of England to prove his views. Two clergymen were educated at Caius in his time; Prince, who wrote the Worthies of Devon, and Jeremy Collier, the stout antagonist of Restoration drama. Another long mastership was that of Sir Thomas Gooch,* from 1716 to 1754, who, during the same period, was Bishop successively of Bristol, Norwich and Ely. He was succeeded in 1754 by Sir James Burrough, who, for many years before, had interested himself in the architectural condition of Cambridge, and had had a hand in altering almost every college. He was not an unsuccessful architect, although an amateur, but his work is very unequal and it degenerated with the taste of the epoch. Although one of the best known masters, as far as Cambridge is concerned, there is no portrait of him in the college. Another Cambridge architect, William Wilkins, was also a Caius man.

Burrough’s successor was Dr John Smith, afterwards Lowndean Professor of Astronomy, who lived till 1795. There is a portrait of him by Reynolds in the Master’s Lodge. Later masters have not been so famous. Mr Clark tells us that Dr Benedict Chapman (* Philips) was the last head of a house who rode out in top-boots. Perhaps the name on which Cambridge men will dwell with most affection in connexion with Caius is that of John HookhamFrere, whose translations of Aristophanes have a place in English literature. The mastership of Dr Ferrers,* which began in 1880, has been marked by great progress. The college is no longer exclusively medical, but is winning yearly honours in all the schools, and it has created a good precedent by granting fellowships as a reward of proficiency rather than of mere academic distinction. It has, however, produced, all through its history, great members of every profession. Among its lawyers have been Lord Chancellor Thurlow* and Baron Alderson.* And of its divines, while it reckons the late Dr Harvey Goodwin, Bishop of Carlisle, among the number, the last, but not the least, is the heroic Charles Frederick Mackenzie,* first Bishop of the Universities Mission to Central Africa. Its latest living bishop is Dr Wallis, who was consecrated Bishop of Wellington in New Zealand a year or two ago.

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