Image via The Bodleian Library
If you were to ask a cerÂtain kind of EngÂlishÂman what sets his homeÂland apart from the rest of the world, he might point to the strength of its traÂdiÂtions. And what holds true for EngÂland itself holds even truer for its most renowned instiÂtuÂtions, espeÂcialÂly its most presÂtiÂgious uniÂverÂsiÂties. Those who dream of attendÂing Oxford dream not least of its disÂtincÂtive traÂdiÂtions: from the relÂaÂtiveÂly freÂquent ForÂmal Hall, to the varÂiÂous cerÂeÂmoÂniÂal ritÂuÂals on AscenÂsion Day, to the MalÂlard Song sung just once per cenÂtuÂry by the elites of All Souls ColÂlege, datÂing back to that colÂlege’s founÂdaÂtion in 1438— which was still long after the time of Oxford’s ultiÂmate perÂsona non graÂta, a long-mysÂteÂriÂous figÂure named HenÂry SymeÂoÂnis.
As recentÂly as the time of DickÂens (or at least the era in which he set his novÂels), BachÂeÂlors of Arts stuÂdents turnÂing MasÂter of Arts stuÂdents at Oxford were, accordÂing to the blog of the Archives and ManÂuÂscripts at the Bodleian Library, “required to swear that they would observe the University’s statutes, privÂiÂleges, libÂerÂties and cusÂtoms, as you might expect; and not to lecÂture elseÂwhere, or resume their bachÂeÂlor studÂies after getÂting their MA.” But they “also had to swear that they would nevÂer agree to the recÂonÂcilÂiÂaÂtion of HenÂry SymeÂoÂnis,” whoÂevÂer that was. “Nowhere in the statutes did it explain who this HenÂry SymeÂoÂnis (or SimeÂoÂnis) was, what he was supÂposed to have done or why those getÂting their MAs should nevÂer agree to be recÂonÂciled with him.”
The clause in quesÂtion came up for review in the earÂly 1650s, but “even by that time, one susÂpects that the oath was of such antiqÂuiÂty that no-one knew anyÂthing about it and it was thought best to leave it be.” Not until 1912 did RegiÂnald Lane Poole, KeepÂer of the UniÂverÂsiÂty Archives, deterÂmine that SymeÂoÂnis was the son of “a very wealthy townsÂman of Oxford.” In 1242, “he and a numÂber of othÂer men of the town of Oxford were found guilty of murÂderÂing a stuÂdent of the UniÂverÂsiÂty. HenÂry and his accomÂplices were fined ÂŁ80 by King HenÂry III in May 1242 and were made to leave Oxford as a result.” Two decades after the murÂder, HenÂry III issued SymeÂoÂnis (who had, in any case, long since returned to town) an offiÂcial parÂdon.
“The GovÂernÂment was aware of the volatile relaÂtionÂship between town and gown and was conÂcerned, in 1264, at the prospect of the UniÂverÂsiÂty leavÂing Oxford in protest if HenÂry was allowed to return.” What seems to have hapÂpened is that “HenÂry SymeÂoÂnis had bought the King’s parÂdon and his perÂmisÂsion to return to Oxford. The King was willÂing to allow his return if the UniÂverÂsiÂty agreed to it. But the UniÂverÂsiÂty refused and chose to ignore the King’s order” — and even “gave HenÂry SymeÂoÂnis the unique honÂor of being named in its own statutes, makÂing the University’s disÂlike of him offiÂcial and perÂpetÂuÂal.” There his name stayed, receivÂing the sworn enmiÂty of five and a half cenÂturies’ worth of Oxford stuÂdents, until the removal of the relÂeÂvant oath in 1827. “No backÂground inforÂmaÂtion nor reaÂson for the deciÂsion is recordÂed,” notes the Bodleian’s blog, posÂsiÂbly because “nobody knew exactÂly what they were abolÂishÂing.”
via Archives and ManÂuÂscripts at the Bodleian Library
RelatÂed ConÂtent:
New InterÂacÂtive “MurÂder Map” Reveals the MeanÂest Streets of Medieval LonÂdon
Based in Seoul, ColÂin Marshall writes and broadÂcasts on cities, lanÂguage, and culÂture. His projects include the SubÂstack newsletÂter Books on Cities, the book The StateÂless City: a Walk through 21st-CenÂtuÂry Los AngeÂles and the video series The City in CinÂeÂma. FolÂlow him on TwitÂter at @colinmarshall or on FaceÂbook.
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