For Whom the Bells Tolled

It was the feast day of St. Scholastica the Virgin, and a bunch of the boys from Oxford University were out on the town. At the tavern called Swyndlestock, they ordered wine, but when John de Croydon brought it to them, they decided that it was no good. De Croydon said it was; the scholars said it wasn't. To emphasize their point, they threw it in the tavern keeper's face. With that gesture--just 600 years ago--began the bloodiest town-and-gown riot in the history of Oxford.

On hearing of the affront to their neighbor, the vintner's friends decided to arouse the town by ringing the bell of St. Martin's Church. Immediately, scores of citizens sprang to arms, started shooting at the scholars with their bows. This brought forth the chancellor of the university to "appease the tumult," but the townsmen started shooting at him, too. The chancellor ordered the bell of St. Mary's to be rung. By nightfall he had an army of archers of his own.

Next day after dinner, a group of townsmen attacked some gownsmen. Once again the bell of St. Martin's rang, and the bell of St. Mary's answered. Inns and taverns were pillaged, books were torn to shreds, some of the university halls were fired. The situation grew so serious that King Edward III himself intervened, and the city was placed under interdict. But by that time, 60 scholars had already been killed. Relations between town and gown have never been entirely amicable since.

Last month, in an unprecedented move, the city council of Oxford decided to patch things up once and for all. For the 600th anniversary of the great brawl, they planned a special ceremony, invited officials of the university to attend. Only one alderman--Laborite E. A. Smewin--objected. "The relations between town and gown," said he, "seem friendly enough--but so do those between the German people and the armies in Berlin. Oxford is an occupied city."

Last week, with the exception of Smewin, the 14 aldermen of Oxford, donned their crimson robes: the 51 city councilors garbed themselves in blue; the vice chancellor of the university and his colleagues put on their gowns and hoods. Then, as the bells of St. Martin's and St. Mary's tolled, the berobed host marched to the university's Sheldonian Theater. There, Vice Chancellor Alic Halford Smith made Mayor W. R. Gowers (a Cambridge man) a doctor of civil law. "Salvete Oppidani!" cried the university's Public Orator. "Salvete Academid!" Welcome town, welcome gown.

After a service at St. Mary's, the procession resumed its march to the town hall. This time, it was the mayor's turn to do the honors; for the first time in history, he gave the vice chancellor the freedom of the city. After all, said he. Oxford is a part of both town and gown. Said the vice chancellor: "What has happened today makes one look forward with more hope for this great city to which we both belong."

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