EARLY YEARS. Arrival of the Franciscans at Oxford.—Their early Poverty, and Cheerfulness.—Oxford Friars as Peacemakers, and Crusaders.—Relations to the University, and to the first Colleges.—Their strict observance of the Rule. The Franciscans first arrived in England in 1224[3]. On Tuesday, the 10th of September in that year (to follow the account of Friar Thomas Eccleston, the earliest historian of the Order in this country), ‘there came a certain poor man, humble and despised, in the habit of those poor friars, and he cried with a loud voice: “O most impartial Judge, the blood of my brethren, which hath been shed this night, crieth unto Thee. The guardians of this place have refused them meat and lodging, although they have left all for Thy sake, and were now coming here to seek those souls which Thou hast redeemed with Thy blood; they would not, in fact, have refused as much to jesters and mummers.”... Then the Judge commanded them to be hanged on the elm that stood in that cloister.’ In the morning the young monk found his companions dead, and became an early convert to the order of St. Francis. On their arrival at Oxford, the two friars were received with great kindness by the Dominicans. ‘They ate in their refectory, and slept in their dormitory, like conventuals for eight days[6].’ They then hired a house in the parish of St. Ebbe from Robert le Mercer[7]. Alms sufficient for the purpose were probably already ‘within a year conferred the land and house on the community of the town for the use of the Friars Minors.’ Enthusiasm and self-sacrifice were the powerful agents which ensured success and favour to the early Franciscans, and many are the stories of their primitive poverty and its effects; and if the convent at Oxford was not especially distinguished like that at Cambridge by ‘paucilitas pecuniae,’ or like that at York by ‘zelus paupertatis[11],’ the Oxford Minorites, during the time of Agnellus at least, departed but little from the ideal of their founder[12], and lived the life of the poor among whom they ministered. The pangs of hunger were not unknown in the convent; and on one occasion the friars were in debt to the amount of ten marks for food[13]. Their first houses were mean and small—too small for the numbers who flocked to their Order[14]; and the infirmary was ‘so low that the height of the walls did not much exceed the height of a man[15].’ When at length they built their church, the brethren worked with their own hands, and a bishop and an abbat who had assumed the coarse habit of the friars are said to have ‘carried water and sand and stones for the building of the place[16].’ ‘picked their way along the rugged path over the frozen mud and rigid snow, whilst the blood lay in the track of their naked feet, without their being conscious of it[21].’ Even from the robbers and murderers who infested the woods near Oxford the Barefoot Friars were safe[22]. ‘Three things,’ said Friar Albert, Minister General, ‘tended to the exaltation of the Order,—bare feet, coarse garments, and the rejecting of money[23]’; and the Oxford Franciscans were as zealous in the last respect as in the other two. The Archdeacon of Northampton sent a bag of money to Friar Adam Marsh, and when the latter refused it, the messenger threw it down in the cell and left it:— ‘Wherefore,’ writes Adam to the Archdeacon, ‘the bearer of these presents has at the instance of the brethren taken the said money, just as it was, sealed with your seal, to your lordship, to dispose of according to your pleasure[24].’ The evidence of the Public Records, containing scattered notices of grants from the Crown, is striking on this point, and the poverty of these early Franciscans can hardly be better illustrated than by the ‘give to the Friars Minors of Oxford one cask of wine of the six casks which he took into the king’s hand of the wine of those who lately killed a clerk in the town of Oxford[31].’ But a fortnight later the king repented of his generosity and assigned the same cask to one of his numerous relatives[32]. Of more interest, as showing that the friars were really classed with the poor of the town, is a royal brief of the 12th of Dec. 1244 to the bailiffs of Oxford, bidding them With all their poverty and holiness they were singularly free from that form of piety which consists in wearing a sad countenance and appearing unto men to fast. We hear indeed of strict silence, of constant prayer, of vigils that lasted the whole night[34]. ‘Yet,’ continues Eccleston[35], ‘the brethren were so full of fun among themselves, that a mute could hardly refrain from laughter at the sight. So when the young friars of Oxford laughed too frequently, it was enjoined on one that as often as he laughed he should be punished. Now it happened that, when he had received no punishments in one day, and yet could not restrain himself from laughing, he had a vision one night, that the whole convent stood as usual in the choir, and the friars were beginning to laugh as usual, and behold the crucifix which stood at the door of the choir turned towards them as though alive, and said: “They are the sons of Corah who in the hour of chanting laugh and sleep.”... On hearing this dream, the friars were frightened and behaved without very noticeable laughter[36].’ Grostete said to a Friar Preacher, ‘Three things are necessary to temporal health—to eat, sleep, and be merry[37].’ Excessive austerity was discountenanced by the authorities of the Oxford convent. Friar Albert of Pisa, who was himself ‘always cheerful and merry in the society of the brethren[38],’ compelled Friar Eustace de Merc, contrary to custom, to eat fish, saying that the Order lost many good persons through their indiscretion[39]. Grostete again ‘commanded a melancholy friar to drink a cup full of the best wine as a penance, and when he had drunk it up, though most unwillingly, he said to him, “Dear brother, if you often performed a penance like that, you would have a better ordered conscience[40].”’ The friars lovingly treasured up the great bishop’s puns and jokes and ‘eat of all manner of meats which be set before them[44],’ a practice which occasionally caused some scandal[45]; and Friar Albert of Pisa ordered them to keep silence in the house of hosts, except among the preachers and friars of other provinces[46]. Like St. Francis himself, the Oxford friars often possessed the courtesy and charm of manner which is born of sympathy[47]; and it was perhaps to this quality that their employment as diplomatic agents is to be attributed. Thus Agnellus was chosen in 1233 to negotiate with the rebellious Earl Marshall and try to bring him back to his allegiance[48]. Adam Marsh was on more than one occasion sent beyond the sea as royal emissary[49], and Edward I sent Oxford Minorites to treat for peace with his enemies[50]. But to the mediaeval mind, there was a cause more sacred than that of peace or good government; and the Franciscans would not have had their great influence—would not have become leaders of men throughout the world—had they not shared the one ideal, which still even in the thirteenth century appealed to every class in every country of Europe. The Crusades attracted the scholastic philosopher no less than the baron with his sins to expiate, or the serf with his liberty to win. It was partly to increase his influence as a missionary[51] that Adam of Oxford, one of the first ‘masters’ who joined the Order[52], took the vows of St. Francis; ‘the above-mentioned friar,’ continues the chronicler, ‘who by his example provoked very many to martyrdom, had been no small space of time warden of the Oxford Convent[56].’ The friars of both Orders soon took a leading part in the affairs of the University. As Bishop of Lincoln[57], Grostete continued to exercise a kind of paternal authority over the University[58], and his high character and long connexion with Oxford gave him an influence which was denied to his successors. It was natural that this influence should be reflected on the Franciscans, whom he had taken under his especial care and among whom was his ‘true friend and faithful counsellor[59]’ Adam Marsh. The latter was specially summoned to the congregation to hear and advise on the answer sent by Grostete to some petitions of the University[60], and we find him interceding with the Bishop on behalf of the Chancellor, Radulph of Sempringham[61]. One of the most important stages in the constitutional development of the University is marked by the charter of Henry III in 1244, which constituted a special tribunal for the scholars, and formed the basis of the Chancellor’s jurisdiction. On the 11th of May of the same year, a deed of acknowledgment was executed at Reading and signed and sealed on behalf of the University by the Prior of the Friars Preachers, the Minister of the Friars Minors, It is probable that the example afforded by the houses of student friars was not lost on the founders of the early colleges. We know that Walter de Merton was a friend of Adam Marsh[65], and a benefactor of the friars, but it would be dangerous to attempt to trace any direct Franciscan influence in the statutes of his college[66]. There is however no doubt about the connexion of the Franciscans with the foundation of Balliol College. Sir John de Balliol died in 1269 without having established his house for poor scholars on a permanent footing. His widow Devorguila first gave them a definite organisation in 1282. According to an old tradition[67], she was induced to take this step by her Franciscan confessor, Friar Richard de Slikeburne. It is clear that the latter was her most trusted and energetic agent in carrying out the plan. Devorguila urges him by all means in his power to promote the perpetuation of ‘our house of Balliol[68],’ and the executors of Sir John de Balliol assigned certain moneys to the scholars of the house ‘with the consent of Devorguila and at the advice of Friar Richard de Slikeburne[69].’ Nor was the connexion merely a transitory one. The statutes of ‘by Masters Robert of Leicester, of the Order of Friars Minors, S.T.P., and Nicholas de Tyngewick, M.D. and S.T.B., then Magistri Extranei of the said House[73].’ The second document[74] is a letter dated 1433 addressed to the Bishop of London by ‘Richard Roderham, S.T.P., and John Feckyngtone of the order of Minorites in Oxford, Rectors of Balliol College.’ The Rectors having, ‘according to the exigency of the office which we discharge upon the rule of the said college and the observance of the statutes thereof,’ inquired into the working of the first statute, decided, with the consent of the majority of the house, that it was prejudicial to the college, and asked the Bishop to consent to the modification of it[75]. It will be readily admitted that in the thirteenth century the Oxford Franciscans deserved their high reputation. It is true, that frequent ‘Having marked some articles, the said friars sent them to the General, in a schedule without a seal, beseeching him, by the sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ, to let the Rule stand, as it was handed down by St. Francis, at the dictation of the Holy Spirit[78].’ |