The Oxford Degree Ceremony

Tailors.

The University further settled what was to be charged by tailors for cutting the various dresses; the prices seem very low, only 3d. for a furless gown (toga) and 6d. for a furred cope; but no doubt the tailors of those days knew how to evade the statute by enhancing their profit on the price of materials; we have one suit before the Chancellor (in 1439) in which the furred gown in question was priced at no less than 36s. 8d.

These instances, which could be multiplied indefinitely, are enough to show how careful the mediaeval University was as to dress. But it will be noticed that they nearly all refer to the dress of graduates; the modern University on the other hand practically leaves its M.A.s alone[25 - The old statutes as to the dress of graduates are still in force, and partially observed at conferment of degrees, examinations, &c., but there is consideredable slackness as to them. It is only too common to see a Dean 'presenting' in a coloured tie, although his undergraduates are all compelled to don a white one.], while it still enforces (at least in theory) academic dress on its undergraduates, as to whom the mediaeval University had little to say.

The Laudian Statutes here as elsewhere form the transition from the arrangements of Pre-Reformation Oxford to those of our own day. They enforce (on all alike) dress of a proper colour, short hair, and abstinence from 'absurdus ille et fastuosus mos' of walking abroad in fancy boots (ocreae); only while the graduate is fined 6s. 8d. for offending, the undergraduate ('if his age be suitable') suffers 'poena corporalis' at the discretion of the Vice-Chancellor and Proctors.

Perhaps the following general points may be made as to University dress in the olden times.

(1) University Dress clerical.

As all members of the University were ipso facto clerks, their dress had to correspond; the marks of clerical dress were that it was to be of a certain length (later it was specified that it should reach the heels, talaris), and that it should be closed in front, but there was great licence as to colour; the 'black' or 'subfusc' prescribed by the Laudian Statutes is the result of the asceticism of the Reformation, and was unknown in Oxford before the sixteenth century. We have in the wills of students and in the inventories of their properties, abundant evidence that our mediaeval predecessors wore garments suitable to 'Merrie Englande', e.g. of green, blue or blood-colour. Sometimes the founder of a college left directions what 'livery' all his students should wear; e.g. Robert Eglesfield prescribed for the fellows of Queen's College that they were to dine in Hall in purple cloaks, the Doctors wearing these trimmed with fur, while the M.A.s wore theirs 'plain'; the colour was 'to suit the dignity of their position and to be like the blood of The Lord'. Cambridge colleges still in some cases prescribe for their undergraduates gowns of a special colour or cut.

One curious survival of the 'clerkship' of all students is the requirement of the white tie in all University examinations and in the degree ceremony. The 'bands', which (to quote Dr. Rashdall) 'are merely a clerical collar', have disappeared from the necks of all lay members of the University below the degree of Doctor, except the Vice-Chancellor and the Proctors; the dress of the latter is the full-dress of an ordinary M.A. in the seventeenth century, and preserves picturesque old features which have been lost elsewhere.

(2) The Cope and the Gown.

The proper dress of the mediaeval Master, though probably an undergraduate could also wear it, was the cappa or cope; this at Oxford was usually black in colour, but Doctors had quite early (i.e. in the time of the Edwards) adopted as the colour for it some shade of red, thus beginning the custom which still survives. The scarlet 'habit', worn at Convocations by Oxford Doctors over their ordinary gowns, retains the old name 'cappa', but the shape has been completely altered. The sister University, however, still preserves the old shape; the Cambridge Vice-Chancellor presides at their degree ceremonies in a sleeveless scarlet cloak, lined with miniver, which exactly corresponds to the fourteenth-century picture of our Chancellor receiving the charter from Edward III. The gown, the 'putting on' of which is now the distinguishing mark of the taking of the B.A. or M.A., is simply the survival of a mediaeval garment which was not even clerical, the long gown (toga) or cassock, which was worn under the cappa. The dress of the 'Blues' at Christ's Hospital preserves the gown in an earlier stage of development. The modern usage which gives the gown of the B.A. sleeves, while that of an M.A. has them cut away, has in some unexplained way grown out of a similar usage as to the mediaeval cappa.

(3) The Hood.

The mark, however, which specially distinguished the degree was the hood, as to which the University was always strict, assigning the proper material and the proper colour[26 - This is delightfully commemorated in the old custom of Queen's College, by which, at the Gaudy dinner on Jan. 1st, each guest receives a needle with a silk thread of the colour of his faculty—Theologians black, Lawyers blue, Arts students red—and is bidden 'Take this and be thrifty'. The mending of the hood was a duty which must have often devolved on the poor mediaeval student. The custom dates from the time of the Founder (1340). It is sad that so few colleges have been careful, as Queen's has been, to preserve their old customs.] to that of each faculty. The hood was not a mere adornment or a badge, it was an article of dress. Originally it seems to have been attached to the cappa, and, as its name implies, was used for covering (the head) when required. Its practical purpose is quaintly implied in the books of the Chancellor and the Proctors (sub anno 1426), where it is provided that 'whereas reason bids that the varieties of costume should correspond to the ordering of the seasons, and whereas the Festival of Easter in its due course is akin from its nearness to summer,' it is henceforth allowed that from Easter to All Saints' day, 'graduates may wear silken hoods,' instead of fur ones, 'old custom notwithstanding.' The M.A. hood, even in its present mutilated form, still presents survivals of the time when it was a real head covering, survivals which should prevent those who wear it from putting it on upside down, as many often do. The B.A. hood was already in the fifteenth century lined with lamb's wool or rabbit's fur, and the use of miniver by other than M.A.s and persons of birth or wealth[27 - Those of royal blood, the sons of peers and members of Parliament, and those who could prove an income of 60 marks a year, were allowed the privilege of Masters.] was strictly forbidden by a statute of 1432.

(4) The Cap.

The last and not the least important part of mediaeval academic dress still remains to be spoken of, the cap. The conferring of this with the ring and the kiss of peace has been already mentioned (p. 27 (#x2_x_2_i1)), these being the marks of the admission of new Masters and Doctors. As under the Roman Law the slave was manumitted by being allowed to put on a cap, so the 'pileus' of the M.A. was the sign of his independence; hence he was bound to wear it at all University ceremonies. The cap was sometimes square (biretta), sometimes round (pileus); Gascoigne (writing in 1456) tells us that in his day the round cap was worn by Doctors of Divinity and Canon Law, and that it had always been so since the days of King Alfred; not content with this antiquity, he also affirms that the round cap was given by God Himself to the doctors of the Mosaic Law. He adds the more commonplace but more trustworthy information that the cap was in those days fastened by a string behind, to prevent its falling off.

The modern stiff corners of the cap are an addition, which is not an improvement; the old cap drooped gracefully from its tuft in the centre, as can still be seen in the portraits of seventeenth-century divines, e.g. in Vandyck's 'Archbishop Laud', so familiar from its many replicas and copies. Later usage has specialized the round cap of velvet as belonging to the Doctors of Law and Medicine, and a most beautiful head-gear it is; it is preserved, in a less elaborate form, at the degree ceremony in the round caps of the Bedels.

After the Reformation the cap began to be worn by B.A.s and undergraduates, but originally without the tuft; the eighteenth century, careless of the old traditions, replaced the tuft by the modern commonplace tassel, and extended this to all caps except those of servitors. With the disappearance of social distinctions in dress, the tassel has been extended to all, except to choir-boys, and so the coveted badge of the mediaeval Master is now the property of all University ranks, and is undervalued and neglected in the same proportion as it has been rendered meaningless.

Before leaving the subject of head-gear, it may be noted that the old University custom of giving the son of a nobleman a gold tassel for his cap has left a permanent mark in the familiar phrase 'tuft-hunting'; the right of wearing this distinctive badge still exists for peers and for their eldest sons[28 - i.e. if they are admitted by a college as 'noblemen', and are entered on the books as such.], but they are at liberty not to avail themselves of it, and it is practically never used. Academic dress has sadly lost its picturesqueness, especially for the undergraduate; his gown no longer reaches to his heels, as the statute still requires it to do, and the injunction against 'novi et insoliti habitus' is surely a dead letter in these days when Norfolk jackets and knickerbocker suits penetrate even to University and college lecture-rooms. But what can the University expect when M.A.s, in evasion of the statutes, come to Congregation without gowns, and borrow them from each other in order to vote, and when the University itself knows nothing of the 'exemplaria' (models) which are supposed to be 'in archivis reposita'? Whether there ever were these models of proper University dress, e.g. a doll in D.D. habit, &c., is uncertain; what is certain is that there are none now. At the present time the scanty relics of mediaeval usage are at the mercy of the tailors; and though it must be said for their representatives in Oxford that they do their best to maintain old traditions, yet there is no doubt that innovations are slowly but steadily introduced, e.g. the M.A. hood is losing in length, and is altering in colour.

The recent attempt on the part of the University to devise new gowns and habits for the 'Research' Doctors is, it may be hoped, the beginning of a better state of things; whatever may be thought of the aesthetic success in this case, the subject was treated with seriousness and expert evidence was taken. Perhaps in the near future Oxford may bestir itself in this matter, and see that nothing more is lost of its mediaeval survivals; restoration of what is actually gone is probably hopeless. Such pious conservatism would be in accordance with the spirit of the present age; for even the modern Radical, unlike his predecessor of half a century back, cares, or at any rate professes to care, for the external traces of the past.

Oxford Hoods and Gowns.

The following list makes no attempt to distinguish between the full dress and the undress of Doctors; it is only intended as a help in identifying the various functionaries who take part in the degree ceremony.

Doctors.

Divinity (D.D.[29 - The initials S.T.P. (Sanctae Theologiae Professor), so commonly used for Doctors of Divinity on monuments, are simply a survival of the old usage according to which, in the Middle Ages, Doctor, Professor, and Master were synonymous terms for the highest degree. It was only later that 'professor' came to be especially applied to a paid teacher in any subject.]).—Scarlet hood and habit; the gown has black velvet sleeves.

Civil Law (D.C.L.) Scarlet hood and habit; the gown

Medicine (D.M.) has sleeves of crimson silk.

The Master of Surgery (M.Ch.) wears the same hood, gown, and habit as an M.D., and ranks next after him.

Science (D.Sc.) Scarlet hood and habit;

Letters (D.Litt.) the gown has sleeves of French grey.

The habits of these Doctors, though in the main similar, have different facings, that of the D.D. being black, of the D.M. and D.C.L. crimson, and of the D.Litt. and D.Sc. French grey.

Doctor of Music (Mus.Doc.).—Gown of crimson and cream brocade. The hood is of the same colours. This gorgeous dress goes back for nearly 300 years. The gown is made of that rich kind of brocade which is popularly said to be able to stand up by itself, and tradition (not very well authenticated) has it that the identically same gown was worn by Richter on his admission as Doctor in 1885, which had been worn by Haydn in the preceding century. The Doctor of Music, however, unlike all other Doctors, ranks after an M.A.; the reason is that musical graduates need not take the ordinary Arts course, but the degrees in Music are open to all who have passed Responsions, or an equivalent examination.

The undress gowns of all Doctors but those of Divinity have the sleeves trimmed with lace; D.D.s wear also a scarf (fastened by a loop behind), and a cassock under their habit or their gown.

All Doctorates are given, or at any rate are supposed to be given, for original work that is a contribution to knowledge; but in the case of the D.D. the theses have quite lost this character.

The Proctors

The Proctors, as the representatives of the M.A.s, wear their old full-dress gown, which has otherwise disappeared from use. The sleeves are of black velvet; the hoods are of miniver, and are passed on from Proctor to Proctor. On the back of the gown is a curious triangular tassel, called a 'tippet'; this is a survival of a bag or purse, which was once used for collecting fees; the appropriateness of its retention by Proctors will still be easily understood by undergraduates. They used also to receive all fees for examinations, till about 1891.

Master of Arts (M.A.)

Crimson hood and black gown, with the sleeves cut short and fitting above the elbows, and hanging in a long bag, cut at the end into crescent shape.

Bachelors

Divinity (B.D.).—The hood is black. A scarf is worn, and a cassock also is worn under the gown.

The Bachelor of Divinity is placed here for convenience of reference; but the degree is really higher than that of an M.A. and can only be taken three years after a man has 'incepted' as M.A.

Civil Law (B.C.L.)

Medicine (B.M.) The hoods are blue,

Surgery (B.Ch.) trimmed with lamb's wool.

Music (B.Mus.)

The gown of all the above Bachelors has laced sleeves fitting to the arm, like those of the M.A.s, but slit; the bag is straight and also trimmed with lace.

Arts (B.A.).—The hood is trimmed with lamb's wool; the gown has full sleeves, with strings to fasten back.

CHAPTER VI

THE PLACES OF THE DEGREE CEREMONY

The University of Oxford confers its degrees in three rooms, the Sheldonian Theatre, the Divinity School, and the Convocation House; the choice rests with the Vice-Chancellor, and now that, in the last year or so, degree-days have been made less frequent, and there are consequently more candidates on each occasion, the place is often the Sheldonian. This is a great improvement on old custom, for it is the only one of the three buildings which was designed for the purpose, and it is also the only one which gives room for the proper conduct of the ceremony, when the number of candidates is large.

The Sheldonian.

The Sheldonian, therefore, commonly known in Oxford as 'The Theatre', will be spoken of first, although it is the last in date of construction. It is a memorial at once of the munificence of one of the greatest among Oxford's many episcopal benefactors, and also of the architectural skill of her most eminent architect, Sir Christopher Wren. Down to the time of the Civil War, the ceremony of the 'Act' (cf. p. 27 seq.) at which degrees were conferred, had taken place in St. Mary's; but the influence of the Puritans was beginning to affect all parties, and was causing the growth of a feeling that religious buildings should not be used for secular purposes. John Evelyn, who gives us our fullest account of the opening ceremony at the Sheldonian, notes that it might be thought 'indecent' that the Act should be held in a 'building set apart for the immediate worship of God'[30 - The buffooneries of the Terrae Filius, who was a recognized part of the 'Act', would be even more shocking in a consecrated building than merely secular business.], and this was 'the inducement for building this noble pile'. Wren had shown his design to the Royal Society in 1663, and it had been much commended; he was only a little more than thirty years of age, and it was his first public building, but he was already known as that 'miracle of a youth' and that 'prodigious young scholar', and he fully justified the Archbishop's confidence in him. So great was this that Sheldon told Evelyn that he had never seen the building and that he never intended to do so. Wren showed his boldness alike in the style he chose—he broke once for all with the Gothic tradition in Oxford—and in the skill with which he designed a roof which was (and is) one of the largest unsupported roofs in England. The construction of it was a marvel of ingenious design.

Its Dedication.