Restoration and the Indolent 18th Century

After decades of political upheaval, civil war, and religious strife, 91�ƹ�ֱ�� entered, thankfully, into a calmer era after Charles II came to the throne.

Agreeable and endearing, flexible and pragmatic, Charles II was the polar opposite of his father—a temperament that helped to unite the country and make the restoration popular throughout it. This unity would not last—after all, political and religious division would result in the Glorious Revolution in 1688—but crucially there would be no return to armed civil war that had so affected 91�ƹ�ֱ�� before the Restoration.

As such, the long eighteenth century saw the college’s fortunes turn, with college life settling to a more leisurely pace. The indolent 18th century was no longer a time to prepare for war, but rather a time for improving college accommodation and appreciating life’s pleasures—sometimes to too great an extent.

Monarchy Restored

England’s transition from republic back to a monarchy was a momentous event in the nation’s history, so it is unsurprising that New College Library contains many items about the Restoration and the lives of the first few monarchs after Oliver Cromwell’s death. Click through below to read more about a selection of these items in the Library’s unique collection of rare books.

An Act for Disbanding and Paying Off the Forces of this Kingdom (1660)

was a crucial piece of legislation to ensure the success of the Restoration. Its purpose was to pay off and demobilise soldiers—a deliberate attempt by Charles II to consolidate power and remove any armed resistance to his rule. Below, you can see both the title-page and the opening page of this act, now held in a bound collection.

This act was passed during the first year of Charles II’s reign. Note, though, that it is printed to say 'In the Twelfth Year’ of his reign. That is because all official documents were dated as if the Interregnum had never happened—wiping Cromwell out of history and stating the regal year as if Charles II had succeeded his father after his death in 1649.

A Pindaric Ode Upon the Death of Charles II (1685)

When Charles II died in 1685, he was mourned throughout the country, but particularly at 91�ƹ�ֱ�� as reveals. An ode written to lament the death of the restored monarch, it is the work of Thomas Flatman (1635–1688), who was a 91�ƹ�ֱ�� scholar (1654) and later fellow (1656). Below, you can see the title-page and the opening page of the ode.

In it, Flatman unsurprisingly makes his support for the late King clear, describing him as 'Charles the Merciful’ and his reign as 'That Golden Age’. Flatman’s loyalty to the restored monarchy is assured as he goes on to endorse the smooth succession of the Stuart line, with the final page titled 'To his sacred Majesty King James II’, referring to him as the 'Prince whom all the world admires and fears’.

However, Flatman’s ode also reveals how the monarchy had been affected by the turmoil of the Civil War period. Certain words have been emphasised to remind the people—and perhaps James himself—of the duties of a sovereign. Stress is placed on peace ('Your peaceful throne’), and the actions of a just king are highlighted ('May you in honourable deeds outshine the brightest heroes of your royal line’).

The History of the Coronation of James II (1687)

This , recording the coronation of King James II and his Queen, Mary of Modena, in Westminster Abbey on 23 April 1685, is a lavish celebration of the events of that day. A complete record of the ceremony, the book incorporates splendid illustrations of the processions and regalia, of the scene of the crowning itself inside Westminster Abbey (pictured below), of the sumptuous feast prepared in Westminster Hall, and even of the celebratory fireworks display on the banks of the River Thames.

The principal author of the book was Francis Sandford (1630–1694). Due to its numerous illustrations, it was a very complex and time-consuming book to produce—it was only published in 1687. Unfortunately, the timing was disastrous. James II, a Roman Catholic, had seen his initial popularity evaporate in the wake of highly unpopular decrees allowing Catholics to hold public offices. By 1688, tensions had reached breaking point, culminating in the invasion of England by the Dutch Protestant William of Orange, in the so-called Glorious Revolution. James was deposed and fled to France, while William and his wife Mary came jointly to the throne.

Sandford had, therefore, invested his entire fortune on a book that had lost virtually its entire market overnight. Despite a £300 gift from James himself, Sandford was almost bankrupted and died, incarcerated for debt, in Newgate Prison on 17 January 1694.

A Time for Building and a Time for Repair

91�ƹ�ֱ�� made the most of the new found peace following the Restoration both to recover income from its estates and to use this income to improve the college buildings. Under the effective leadership of Warden Michael Woodward (1602–1675), the college estates were managed more efficiently—Warden Woodward personally travelled multiple times to the lands owned by the college to ensure that they were being managed as effectively as possible.

Benefaction Book for the Garden Quadrangle This extra income was spent straight away to increase the luxury of the accommodation on offer to the college’s fellows. For some time, it had been acknowledged that a new quadrangle was necessary—and this new quadrangle became possible for the first time in the eighteenth century. The college had not only recovered its financial position, but this position was also improved by the generosity of college members.

Here, you can see the opening entry in the Benefaction book for the building of the new Garden Quadrangle, now held in the college’s archives (). The beautiful illumination includes both the arms of the Founder, William of Wykeham, and the arms of Henry Beeston, a successor to Woodward as warden. Note the use of the bees on his coat of arm—a deliberate reference to his surname.

After the Garden Quad was officially commissioned, several designs were proposed. This design process is, thankfully, also preserved in the archives (). Below, you can see the most ambitious design, created by Michael Burghers (1647–1727), a Dutch artist and engraver who created many plans and illustrations for stately homes across England. This design—reminiscent of Versailles—was extremely grand and included a flap to show the buildings in three dimensions.

Proposed plan for the Garden Quad

Abstract of accounts for work around college in the late eighteenth century In the end, the final design was not quite as ornate, as can be seen in the photograph in the image banner above. Thankfully, this scaled down design offered the best of both worlds—improved accommodation for the growing college and a preserved view into the college gardens.

Throughout the long eighteenth century, 91�ƹ�ֱ�� spent to improve its buildings and facilities. After the completion of the Garden Quadrangle, money was spent on work in the Chapel, Hall, Library, and Common Room. Pictured here, you can read an abstract of accounts dating to 1779–1780 for just one supplier—a James Pears—in the archives (). This abstract reveals that he was owed the not inconsiderable sum of £156 13s 7d for labour and materials for the Chapel Organ Loft, the day’s work of a carpenter around college, work in the Library, and finally work on the antechapel window and chapel altar piece.

At the end of this period, 91�ƹ�ֱ�� was certainly a much more luxurious place than it had been during the previous century and, perhaps, a much more luxurious place than had been originally intended by William of Wykeham when he founded the college in the fourteenth century. These new buildings, though, matched the changing tastes of new members of college—many of whom were from wealthier backgrounds and accustomed to the finer things in life.

Indolence and Indulgence

The Restoration period saw an adoption of a more comfortable lifestyle within the walls of 91�ƹ�ֱ��, with the large number of benefices providing the fellows with guaranteed employment and very little need for exertion. During this time of indulgence and indolence—apart from certain figures such as Robert Louth and Bishop Ken—rather than producing eminent men, the college was home to relaxed scholars who demonstrated competency over ambition.

In a breakaway from Wykeham’s ambitions, 91�ƹ�ֱ�� was not upholding spiritual integrity or imparting knowledge as many fellows found it more profitable to obtain affluent curacies or to become a tutor in a wealthy household than to continue religious or academic study. As a result, positions were coveted as they afforded a life of idleness, with many passing the days eating, drinking, and engaging in sports such as cricket or bowls. This is evident in the detailed diaries of 91�ƹ�ֱ�� alumnus James Woodforde, where merriment and social activity took precedence over academic duties.

“Dr. Wall and Webber and myself made a very late night of it being very jolly indeed. We sat up till near 4 in the morning. I fetched 3 Bottles of Wine out of my Room after 12 o’clock.”

Woodforde certainly subscribed to the carefree lifestyle that his position at 91�ƹ�ֱ�� provided, as this excerpt reveals he spent much of his time revelling with other members of college.

The carelessness associated with these academic positions is clear in Woodforde’s inactivity as he only resided in Oxford for five out of the fifteen years when he was a fellow. Like many of his contemporaries, Woodforde seemed more focused on benefiting from socialisation and leisure activities; in fact, his discussions of his academic pursuits were an afterthought. He performed his necessary duties without enthusiasm and by no means exhibited the religious devotion Wykeham wished for in his foundation of 91�ƹ�ֱ��. On one occasion on 19 November 1761, Woodforde attended a lecture and made his boredom clear.

“Went this evening to Haw’s Lecture in St Giles’s Church . . . very stupid, low and bad stuff”.

The purchases of an 18th century undergraduate

Clay curlers were used between the 17th and 19th centuries to make permanent curls for wigs, the hair was wound around the curler, steeped in hot water and then heated to set the curl.

Woodforde would have taken part in the latest fashions and wigs were certainly fashionable in the 18th century especially amongst the higher class, with gentleman wearing curled and often powdered wigs.

During the 18th century many men began sporting nosegays, which were a small bunch of sweet smelling flowers often worn on men’s lapels or in buttonholes.

Woodforde brought two musical compositions with him to 91�ƹ�ֱ��, Esther (HWV 50) and Messiah (HWV 56), both by George Frideric Handel.

Woodforde’s diary details what he purchased before attending 91�ƹ�ֱ��, including what he paid for each item. Entries like this litter his diary and provide valuable insight into the everyday realities, purchases, and possessions of an 18th-century scholar.

During Woodforde’s time at 91�ƹ�ֱ�� Picture of the 91�ƹ�ֱ�� Dining Hall the dining hall would have served as a hub of social activity, with meals and formal dinners forming an essential role in college life, of course this is still true today.

Woodforde was vivid in his descriptions of college meals. Indeed, after his appointment to the position of Sub-Warden in 1773, one of his preferred subjects to write about is food. As Sub-Warden he oversaw ordering foodstuffs and planning meals, a task he took great pride in with elaborate menus and a strict maintenance of standards. Thanks to his diary we have details of what fellows and visitors to 91�ƹ�ֱ�� were eating. The entry from December 25th in 1773 goes into meticulous detail of a grand dinner Woodforde planned, in which Woodforde and fourteen senior fellows enjoyed a three-course meal which illustrates the indulgence fellows were accustomed to. The menus often included fine cuts of expensive meats and other emblems of luxury:

“two fine Codds boiled with fryed Souls round them and oyster sauce, a fine sirloin of Beef roasted, some peas soup and an orange Pudding for the first course, for the second, we had a lease of Wild Ducks rosted, a fore Quarter: of Lamb and sallad and mince Pies”

During the long eighteenth century, 91�ƹ�ֱ�� members enjoyed the endowments and privileges their place at Oxford offered them.

As Britain’s elites strived for cultural progress and refinement, 91�ƹ�ֱ�� reflected the social hierarchy and preserved old traditions without enacting reforms. However, in subsequent decades, it became clear that 91�ƹ�ֱ�� had to move with the times. Cultural changes driven by new ideas and technological advancements highlighted the need for new statutes, expansion, and a transformation of the education offered in college.

Click below to continue to learn more about this process of change as we move into the nineteenth century—a period of great change for the college in terms of structural improvements as well as changes to governance and administration.

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