A Poisonous Plot (47 page)

‘Sell?’ interrupted Langelee. ‘We most certainly shall not! Dyeing is a lucrative business. We shall take over the running of it, and it will earn us a fortune.’

‘But you have just explained why we cannot do that,’ said Bartholomew irritably. ‘The stench—’

‘What stench?’ interrupted William. ‘I cannot say I find it particularly noxious.’

‘On reflection, neither do I,’ said Langelee breezily. ‘In fact, it is extremely pleasant.’

For the rest of that term, Lady Joan became a familiar sight on the streets of Cambridge as Chancellor Tynkell showed her around his domain. She insisted on visiting every College, convent and hostel in the University, often multiple times, and it quickly became a point of honour for each to impress her more than their rivals. The frantic primping that took place, along with the numerous disputations arranged by Michael, served to keep the scholars far too busy to contemplate squabbling with each other.

‘It is a pity she is the wrong sex,’ sighed Michael. ‘She would make an excellent Chancellor – far better than her son.’

The town proved less easy to distract, and there was bitter disappointment that the promised exodus of scholars was not going to take place after all. Spats between them and the academics grew more frequent and increasingly violent. Michael, Bartholomew and Tulyet met to discuss them in the Brazen George one day just before Christmas.

‘Perhaps Prior Joliet was right,’ said Bartholomew, weary after dealing with the injuries arising from yet another brawl. ‘The town will never be easy with us in it, and it might be better for everyone if we go to live in the Fens.’

‘It will not,’ said Tulyet firmly. ‘Without the University, we would be nothing.’

Michael gazed wonderingly at him. ‘And this from a townsman?’

‘We sell you our ale, bread, meat, cloth, pots and fuel; and we rent you our houses and inns. In return, you provide us with scribes, physicians and priests, while the friaries do good work with the poor, despite the recent hiccup with the Austins.’

‘Then why do I feel as though we are not welcome?’ asked Michael.

‘Because you are arrogant, miserly and condescending; you make nuisances of yourselves with our womenfolk; and you do not pay fair prices for our goods. You belittle and cheat us at every turn, and you are rarely good neighbours.’

‘Well, yes,’ acknowledged Michael. ‘But we cannot help that.’

In 2009, the University of Cambridge celebrated eight hundred years in the city, although the exact date that scholars arrived in the town is not known. It probably came about because a riot in Oxford had caused scholars to flee, and some of them chose to settle in Cambridge, almost certainly because they had family connections there. As the foundation grew and the academics began to assert themselves, trouble boiled between them and the townsfolk, and the next eight centuries are peppered with brawls, disagreements, rows and riots. One of the most serious was in 1381, during the Peasants’ Revolt, when many University records were destroyed and its buildings attacked, so ill-feeling would certainly have existed between University and town in the 1350s.

The problem was compounded by the fact that there were rivalries and quarrels within the University, too. The Colleges were stable foundations with endowments, which meant their scholars tended to live more comfortable existences than those in the hostels, a fact that caused resentment and led to spats. Hostels came and went with their principals, although some, like Ovyng and Physick, were fairly long lived. There is a reference to a hostel named St Zachary Inn, but little is known about it, except that it probably took its name from the Church of St John Zachary, which stood on the junction of Milne Street and Water Lane. The church was eventually demolished to make way for King’s College Chapel.

As always with the Bartholomew books,
A Poisonous Plot
is based around real people and events. In 1340, a clerk named Stephen of Cambridge, acting for the town, successfully argued that a case of assault should be brought by Anne de Rumburgh against Peter Segeforde. I could find no Peter Segeforde in the University’s records, but Walter Segeforde was vicar of St Edward’s Church – he was appointed in 1344 and stayed until 1359.

In the same year, Robert de Hakeney was accused of stealing property from Robert de Comberton. Again, there was no Robert de Comberton in the University, but there was a John Comberton. He was an Austin friar, based at the convent that once stood near St Bene’t’s Church, between what is now Wheeler Street and the New Museums Site.

In 1358, there was another lawsuit in which John Frenge was sued for trespassing on the property of John Wayt (there was a John Wayt de Warefeld at King’s Hall in the 1370s, although it is unclear if these were one and the same). And five years later, a similar case had William Shirwynk as the plaintiff and John Morys as the defendant. Morys was the name of an influential family in the town, and a William Morys was enrolled in the University in the 1370s.

Other real people include Nigellus Thornton, who was a physician in Cambridge in the thirteenth century. He owned several properties in the town and in nearby Barnwell, and left some of them to the University, probably in exchange for Masses for his soul. Richard de Kellawe, a Franciscan, was appointed in 1341 as Commissary of the Chancellor (at this time William Tynkell) by the Bishop of Ely to absolve scholars who were guilty of acts of violence. He came from Carlisle, and was Warden of the Cambridge Franciscans in the 1330s.

John Wauter (or Water) was a Fellow of Michaelhouse in the early 1400s. As a priest, he was licensed to hear confessions in the Ely diocese, and he gave a
Martilogium
to Peterhouse. Ralph de Langelee was probably Master of Michaelhouse in the 1350s, and his Fellows included Michael (de Causton), John Clippesby, William (de Gotham), Thomas Suttone and William de Thelnetham. William Melton and William Bell were later members, and their names appear in records at the beginning of the fifteenth century.

William Irby was a scholar in the 1370s, nominated three times for the Mastership of Peterhouse, and was later rector of Norton in Suffolk, where he was buried. John Yerland studied at the University in the 1370s, after which he took holy orders. He became rector of Limpsfield in Surrey. Poor John Cew (or Coo), a King’s Hall Fellow appointed in 1432, is reported to have ‘lost his reason’ fifteen years later. John Gilby studied in Cambridge in 1381, and was ordained as a subdeacon. He became vicar of Chesterfield and rector of Kneesall in Nottinghamshire.

To avoid confusion, ‘Austin’ has been used to denote the friars, and ‘Augustinian’ to refer to the canons whose priory was at nearby Barnwell, although the two terms are interchangeable. Ralph Norton was Prior at Barnwell in the 1350s, and his contemporaries included John Wrattlesworth and John of Canterbury. Hamo de Hythe was an Austin friar, and the Prior of his convent was John Joliet (or Julyet). Tulyet and Lenne were important mercantile families in fourteenth-century Cambridge, while John de Birton was reeve of Barnwell in the 1380s.

The Roman architect Marcus Vitruvius Pollio did indeed warn of the perils of using lead vats to store foodstuffs, and fermenting apples in them might well have led to a variety of unpleasant side effects among those who enjoyed the resulting brews.