Coleridge's estimate of the period,

"Then, as now,”—(written in 1808) "existed objects to which the wisest attached undue importance; then, as now, judgment was misled by factions and parties—time wasted in controversies fruitless, except as far as they quickened the faculties; then, as now, minds were overrated or idolized, which owed their influence to the weakness of their contemporaries rather than to their own power. Then, though great actions were wrought, and great works in literature and science produced, yet the general taste was capricious, fantastical, or grovelling: and in this point, as in all others, was youth subject to delusion, frequent in proportion to the liveliness of the sensibility, and strong as the strength of the imagination'."

1 The Friend, Introduct. to Part III.

CHAPTER VI.

FROM THE OUTBREAK OF THE CIVIL WAR TO THE

RESTORATION.

civil war.

WITH the year 1639, we find Sir Simonds D'Ewes bringing his journal to a close, “humbly meditating of death as near at hand,” and "heartily beseeching God, infinite in goodness and in greatness, that he would for ever continue to the British Church the pure undefiled religion, free from superstitions, heresies and idolatry." It was indeed Outb. ak of the a time fraught with no ordinary peril alike to individuals and to the country at large. The following year saw the Long Parliament assemble, the next the attainder and execution of Strafford; then followed the horrors of the Irish Rebellion, striking dismay and anguish home to the heart of England. Worthington, in his diary, records the singularly solemn prayer offered in the chapel of Emmanuel, when the tidings reached the University:-"Respiciat Deus clementi oculo fere expirantem Hiberniam; quomodo qui comedebant in deliciis desolantur per agros! Quomodo qui nutriebantur in coccino, complexantur stercora! Ecce, ut in convalla sparsa et neglecta jacent illorum ossa, ossa perquam arida; an reviviscant illa, Domine Jehovah, tu nosti!" &c.

pathies of

The following year saw the outbreak of the Civil War Royalist symand the royal standard erected at Nottingham. Both Cambridge. the Universities espoused the royal cause and rendered

Cromwell,

material aid. Cambridge, while Charles remained at Nottingham, sent frequent supplies of plate and money. The first supply, we read, was sent "guarded by some horse, under the conduct of Mr Barnaby Oley of Clare Hall, who, passing through bye-paths in the night, escaped Oliver Cromwell, who, with a train of townsmen and rustics, lay in wait to have intercepted it near Loler Hedges, betwixt Huntingdon and Cambridge." In 1643 we find "From Cambridge they write that the schollers there begin to leave the University, or rather they are sent away from thence, because they show themselves exceedingly disaffected to the parliament's proceedings in those parts.”

The strong sympathy which the University thus evinced for the royal cause, naturally drew down reprisals from the opposite party. Cromwell, who was member of parliament for the town, was sent from London at the head of a small force to take more rigorous measures. We are indebted to Walker, in his Sufferings of the Clergy, for an account of the subsequent proceedings, which must, however, considering the source from whence it proceeds, be accepted with some qualification. On the other hand, his measures in it is reasonable to suppose that Cromwell's action would the University. hardly wear any other than a very decisive character.

During the hour of service in the chapels he surrounded several of the colleges and made prisoners of the masters. Dr Beal, the master of St John's, Dr Martin, the master of Queens', and Dr Sterne, the master of Jesus, were of the number; "whom," says Walker, "he hurried prisoners to London, with such circumstances of outrage and abuse as I shall at large relate." Eventually Cambridge was selected as the quarters of the central garrison of the seven associated counties, and from this time, says Walker, her miseries were without intermission; "for, in the first place, by this means, as the Querela expresses it, instead

of carrying us all to London jayls, thanks be to our multitude, not their mercy, they found a device to convey a prison to us, and under colour of fortifications confined us only in a larger inclosure, not suffering any scholars to pass out of the town, unless some townsman of their tribe would promise for him that he was a confider. And from that time forward, for near two years together, the prophanations, violence, outrages, and wrongs done to their chapels, colleges, and persons, by the uncontrouled fury of rude soldiers, notwithstanding the fore-mentioned protections, were matter of unspeakable grief to any that considered it1." After this," saith the Querela", "it will not be strange to hear how our persons have been abused, how divers of us have been imprisoned without so much as pretending any cause, but snatched up in the streets and thrown into prison at the pleasure of a small sneaking captain, where we have lain three or four months together, not so much as accused, much less heard, but quite and clean forgotten, as if there had been no such thing in nature. How some of us, and many others with us, have Conduct of the been thrust out of bed in the night that our chambers soldiery. might forthwith be converted into prison lodgings: how our young scholars with terror have been commanded to accuse and cut out the names of their own tutors, and some of them thrown into prison for not being old enough to take their covenant. But (to pass higher) how often have our colleges been broken open and guards thrust into them, sometimes at midnight while we were asleep in our beds: how often our libraries and treasuries ransacked and rifled, not sparing so much as our ancient coins, particularly at St John's College, whence they took in ancient coins to the value of twenty-two pounds accord

1 Walker's Sufferings of the Clergy, Part I. p. 110.

2 Querela Cantabrigiensis.

Parliament

ing to weight, which those that know anything know to be a great light to the understanding of history; how often hath that small pittance of commons, which our founders and benefactors allotted for our sustenance, been taken from off our tables by the wanton soldier; how often have our rents been extorted from our tenants, or if received remanded of our bursars and stewards, and by force taken from them, they having for above two years together set themselves upon little else than to seize and take away our goods and furniture belonging to our chambers, prising and selling away our books at a tenth part of their value. And to this end they have constituted a decayed hatter plunder-master-general, who (together with a conventicling barber and a confiding tailor) hath full commission, for our property sake, to lord of us and dispose of our goods as they please."

St John's College appears to have been especially unfortunate:

"They plundered and drove the true owners out of St John's College for above sixteen months together, and converted all the old court of it, which had formerly contained three hundred students at a time, into a prison for his majesty's loyal subjects, not suffering any to remove either their bedding or other goods whereof the jailer could make any use or benefit, and rented out the whole of it at above £500 per annum; and at length laid their paws on most of the other colleges, quartering multitudes of soldiers in those glorious and ancient structures which the devout and royal founders designed for sanctuaries of learning and piety, but were made by them mere spittals and bawdy-houses for sick and debauched soldiers, being filled with queans, drabbs, fiddlers, and revels, night and day."

"Thus, as the University justly complained, was she