picturesquely says it was
intended 'ad amplianda matris nostrae ubera' (so many things could be
said in Latin which would be shocking in English). In 1426 the
Archbishop of Canterbury, Chichele, is approached and asked 'to open
the torrents of his brotherly kindness'. Parliament is appealed to, the
Monastic Orders, the citizens of London, in fact anybody and everybody
who was likely to help. Cardinal Beaufort gave 500 marks, William of
Waynflete lent his architectural engines which he had got for building
Magdalen--at least he was requested to do so--(1478), the Bishop of
London, by a refinement of compliment, is asked to show himself 'in this
respect also a second Solomon'. [The touch of adding 'also' is
delightful.] The agreement to begin building was signed in 1429, when
the superintendent builder was to have a retaining fee of 40_s._ a year,
and 4_s._ for every week that he was at work in Oxford; the work was
finally completed in 1489. And the building was worthy of this long
travail; its elaborate stone roof, with the arms of benefactors carved
in it, is a model at once of real beauty and of structural skill.
[Sidenote: History of the Divinity School.]
The Divinity School, as its name implies, was intended for the
disputations of the Theological Faculty, and perhaps it was this special
purpose which prevented it being used so widely for ordinary business,
as the other University buildings were. At any rate it was this
connexion which led to its being the scene of one of the most
picturesque events in Oxford history; it was to it, on April 16, 1554,
that Cranmer was summoned to maintain his theses on the Blessed
Sacrament against the whole force of the Roman Doctors of Oxford,
reinforced by those of Cambridge. Single-handed and without any
preparation, he held his own with his opponents, and extorted their
reluctant admiration by his courtesy and his readiness. 'Master Cranmer,
you have answered well,' was the summing up of the presiding Doctor, and
all lifted their caps as the fallen Archbishop left the building. It was
the last honour paid to Cranmer.
In the eighteenth century, when all old uses were upset, the Divinity
School was even lent to the City as a law court, and it was here the
unfortunate Miss Blandy was condemned to death. But as a rule its
associations have been academic, and it is still used for its old
purpose, i.e. for the reading of the Divinity theses. It is only
occasionally that Universit
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