The right of the two English universities to return MPs dated back no further than 1604. M.B. Rex, University Representation in England 1604-1690 (1954), 1-36. That the two constituencies then created were distinctive is obvious enough. Their electorates were, by definition, well-educated, and, at a time when the latest theological controversies could be matters of considerable political interest, they could also claim to be especially well-informed. Above all, they both had a sense of their own particular corporate interests which was plausibly stronger than that of even the most self-confident of the parliamentary boroughs. Parliament was seen mainly as a means of defending those interests. Just as the elections of chancellor or high stewards were always used to co-opt powerful advocates at Whitehall, so the elections of MPs were a chance to send spokesmen of stature to Westminster. The prime considerations were rank, for election as a university MP was an honour which was regularly used to attract the most sought-after candidates, combined with knowledge of the university’s affairs. Often this resulted in the election of a major public figure for the senior place and an insider for the other. The heads of house preferred to keep control of this to themselves and, whenever possible, they strove to avoid contested elections. The Cambridge senate was a potentially unruly body, numbering several hundred men, and leaving it to decide an election was too great a risk for the university authorities. Their view was that expressed by Benjamin Whichcote (brother of Christopher Whichcote*) during the 1658 election when he observed that the heads of house would probably reach agreement among themselves but that all the MAs could not be trusted to bow to that unanimity. TSP vii. 559. Public disorder was what the authorities feared more than anything else. At the outbreak of the civil war there were over 2,000 resident members (dons and students) of the university, and, although the franchise was confined to those with higher degrees, it was always possible that, amidst the passions of a hard-fought contest, the undergraduates would prove to be too boisterous. F.J. Varley, Cambridge during the Civil War 1642-1646 (Cambridge, 1935), 62. Once elected, both MPs were expected to uphold the extensive privileges jealously maintained by their constituents, in the knowledge that in both Houses there were large numbers of alumni waiting to be mobilised. Indeed, challenges to Cambridge’s influence in the Commons were usually most likely to come from the even larger Oxford lobby. The two universities were thus among those exceptional constituencies (London being perhaps the only other) which could take it for granted that their particular concerns would gain a hearing at Westminster.
Cambridge University, even more than Oxford, had been divided by the rise of the Laudians. By the 1630s several enthusiastic promoters of Arminian principles had gained major positions within the university. Leading the assault were the successive masters of Peterhouse, Matthew Wren and John Cosin, making that college the most notorious hotbed of such ideas. Wren had since gone to hold a succession of bishoprics, in all of which he created considerable controversy, and, following his translation to Ely in 1638, he loomed large over the university as its local bishop. Gradually, but apparently faster than at Oxford, the headships of the other colleges were also falling in to the hands of Laud’s allies: Edward Martin became president of Queens’ in 1634, William Beale became master of Jesus in 1632, and, when he migrated to the larger and more important college of St John’s in 1634, was succeeded at Jesus by Richard Sterne. These men aimed to nurture a new generation of clergymen trained within their colleges who would go out and spread the approved ideas throughout the kingdom. To their opponents, however, this seemed nothing less than the organised spread of popery. By the 1640s it was clear that any serious attempt to challenge the growing strength of the Laudians would need to tackle their strongholds within the universities. Once Parliament was recalled in 1640, concerns about what had been happening at Cambridge surfaced regularly in debate and the onslaught on the Laudian network in the universities was delayed only because Laud’s critics went after the archbishop himself. The 1630s and the 1640s were thus one of the few periods during its whole history as a parliamentary constituency when the internal affairs of Cambridge University were matters of major national importance.
The university elections at Cambridge for the Short Parliament were inevitably dominated by this issue. Three candidates put themselves forward: Thomas Eden, Sir John Lambe and Henry Lucas. Eden, the master of Trinity Hall, was a distinguished civil lawyer who had been MP for the university in the previous Parliament. He had then been the junior partner to the secretary of state, Sir John Coke†, but 12 years later he was a much more prominent public figure, appropriate for the senior place. His big disadvantage was that his public profile had been largely acquired as chancellor and vicar-general of the diocese of Ely and thus enforcer of Bishop Wren’s policies in and around Cambridge. As dean of the court of arches and vicar-general to Archbishop Laud, Lambe was also heavily implicated in the imposition of the recent innovations. Like Eden, he was a member of the court of high commission and had only recently been appointed chancellor to the queen. Ranged against them was Lucas, the secretary to the chancellor, the 1st earl of Holland (Henry Rich†), by whom he had presumably been nominated. Holland was known to be unsympathetic to Laud’s policies and in 1635 had helped resist Laud’s attempted archiepiscopal visitation of the university. Lucas could be expected to take the same line. Presiding over it all was Cosin, who happened to be serving as vice-chancellor. On the day no attempt was made to oppose Eden’s nomination to the senior seat, probably because Lucas’s supporters calculated that their man stood a better chance against Lambe, whom he indeed defeated in the vote for the second seat. Camb. Univ. Trans. ii. 558.
On several occasions during the Short Parliament Eden duly attempted to defend the university against its many critics in the Commons. His interventions in debate were sometimes cautious, for he had to avoid being provocative, but he was one of the rare speakers who implied that the attacks on men like Cosin or Beale might be overstated. Aston’s Diary, 89, 95, 113. This counted in Eden’s favour in certain quarters when he came to seek re-election that autumn, but the vice-chancellor, Richard Holdsworth, proposed Henry Spelman†, one of the leading historians of his day, who had recently endowed the university with a lectureship in Anglo-Saxon. It thus seemed possible that the university might take the rare step of electing someone in recognition of their contributions to scholarship.
However, in the aftermath of the 1627 controversy over Lord Brooke’s lectureship, any endowment to promote the study of history at Cambridge was suspect in the eyes of some. As a spoiling tactic, Eden’s supporters spread rumours that Spelman had decided not to stand. Eden then threatened to withdraw, for, if both were elected, he might have to be demoted to the junior seat, while Bishop Wren slyly suggested that Spelman was so important that he would be demeaned by the offer of a mere university seat. Bodl. Tanner 65, f. 164; Cooper, Annals Camb. iii. 304; Camb. Univ. Trans. ii. 558. Perhaps rather more pertinent was Spelman’s old age and blindness. Meanwhile, the other two candidates, Lucas and Henry Hopkins, warden of the Fleet prison, probably aspired to the second seat. The result may therefore have come as a surprise. Spelman came bottom of the poll with only 70 votes, while Hopkins also trailed with 89. With 154 votes to his name, Eden was elected by a comfortable margin, but it was Lucas, with 180, who came top. CUL, University Archives, Misc. Collect. 5, p. 98; Gonville and Caius College, Camb. MS 744/249, f. 179; Cooper, Annals Camb. iii. 304; C219/43, pt. 1, f. 141. Writing to his friend, the professor of Arabic, Abraham Wheelocke, to ask that he convey his thanks to his supporters, Spelman tried not to sound too disappointed.
It is a great comfort to me, in the later end of my days, that so many worthy men of your university were pleased in this late election of their burgesses for the Parliament to cast their thoughts on me (not dreaming of it) to be one of them. Had it succeeded, I should to the utmost extent of these poor abilities that ruinous old age hath left me, endeavoured (as duty tied me) to have done the best service I could to the church, the kingdom, and her my ever honoured and dear mother, your famous university. Original Letters of Eminent Literary Men ed. H. Ellis (Cam. Soc. xxiii.), 163.
However, he went on to say that those who spread the rumours of his withdrawal had ‘dealt very dishonestly and untruly with me’. Ellis, Original Letters, 164. The dirty tricks used by Eden and his supporters complicate any conclusions about university opinion. It is unclear whether it was Laud’s supporters or his opponents who now prevailed at Cambridge, although the archbishop had evidently split the university down the middle.
Thomas Eden’s death on 18 July 1645 occurred a matter of weeks before the Commons approved the use of by-elections to fill the gaps in their ranks. Although there was a short delay, owing to a backlog of earlier vacancies, the university had only to wait until 15 October before a new writ was issued. CJ iv. 309b. The election was held six weeks later on 27 November. The electorate which then assembled was very different from that which had elected Eden and Lucas in 1640. In January 1644, the major-general of the Eastern Association, the 2nd earl of Manchester (Edward Montagu†), was empowered to set up committees to eject from their livings ‘scandalous ministers’, including those holding fellowships in Cambridge colleges. CJ iii. 338b. In March he embarked on a wholesale purge of the university. Among the commissioners he appointed to assist him were Francis Bacon*, Nathaniel Bacon*, John Brewster*, Thomas French*, William Leman*, Henry Mildmay*, Isaac Puller* and Humphrey Walcott*, all of whom went on to sit in Parliament. Over the following months these commissioners ejected 217 fellows – about half of the total across the colleges – who refused to take the Covenant or whose conduct was deemed unsuitable. Their replacements were appointed on condition that they took the Covenant and subject to the approval of the Westminster Assembly. [J. Barwick], Querala Cantabrigiensis (Oxford, 1646); T. Fuller, The Church-History of Britain (1655), pt. vi. 168-71; J.D. Twigg, ‘The parliamentary visitation of the University of Cambridge, 1644-1645’, EHR xcviii. 513-28. As John Barwick, a most unsympathetic observer, observed in 1646 with reference to the notorious site of Thirty Years’ War destruction and to the last pagan Roman emperor, the commissioners had ‘reduced a glorious and renowned university, almost to a mere Munster, and have done more, in less than three years, than the Apostate Julian could effect in all his reign’. Querale Cantabrigiensis, 2. As beneficiaries or survivors of the purge, those entitled to vote in the November 1645 by-election chose Nathaniel Bacon, the chairman of the Eastern Association committee who had playing a leading part in the commission’s deliberations. Bacon’s nomination was almost certainly unopposed. C219/43, pt. 1, f. 141. The university spent £2 2s obtaining the writ. CUL, University Archives, U. Ac. 2 (1), p. 723.
The university seats were too anomalous to escape scrutiny during the electoral experiments of the 1650s. There is no evidence that Cambridge University was consulted when nominations were being prepared for the 1653 Parliament. The appointment of the master of Magdalene, John Sadler*, as one of the four nominees from Cambridgeshire was, at best, a sop to the university. The Instrument of Government later that year preserved the principle of university representation, but only after removing a seat from each of the universities. A. and O. The cost of survival may have been even greater, for the boroughs of Oxford and Cambridge (both sizeable towns in their own right) each lost one seat as well. The franchise for the remaining Cambridge University seat was left unaltered, but the reduction limited the university’s room for manoeuvre, ruling out combined choices of both high-profile public figures and assiduous insiders in future elections. In practice, on both occasions this reform operated, the university, without hesitation, sought out the most high-profile of public figures, the lord protector’s two sons, Richard Cromwell and Henry Cromwell. This prompted little comment, the rationale being obvious enough: namely, the glory of the university and the advantages such patrons might bring. These nominations honoured the Cromwells, reinforced the lord protector’s links with a town of which he had twice been burgess, and served as a potential investment by the university against the future, where either Richard or Henry might eventually succeed their father as lord protector. Both seem to have been elected without opposition. In the case of Richard, there was at least a vote, for the university has preserved 34 of the voting slips cast at his election on 1 August 1656. CUL, University Archives, O. III. 1; O. III. 81. This is a very low figure, but whether it is because few voted in an election which was a foregone conclusion, or because of unwillingness to endorse him, or because other slips have been lost cannot be established. Open opposition to either of the Cromwells in 1654 and 1656 would have been a tactless blunder which could only have damaged the university’s standing.
Richard Cromwell’s succession to the protectorate in September 1658 rendered him unavailable as a candidate for the Parliament he summoned three months later. Moreover, with the revival of the old franchises, the university regained its second seat. The first move was made by its chancellor, Oliver St John*, who let it be known that he favoured the nomination of his former protégé, the secretary of state, John Thurloe*. TSP vii. 559. Although he was not a graduate of the university, Thurloe’s family connections with the Cambridge area were a further recommendation. One of those entrusted by St John with this business, the provost of King’s College, Benjamin Whichcote, pointed out one or two potential minor problems. As has already been mentioned, he feared that the MAs might break ranks. He had also heard reports that Henry Cromwell’s father-in-law, (Sir) Francis Russell*, planned to visit Cambridge on 13 December to lobby on behalf of (Sir) Anthony Morgan*, one of his son-in-law’s leading allies in Ireland. TSP vii. 559. As Whichcote pointed out, this need not have prevented Thurloe being elected to the senior place, and, in any case, it became clear within days that Morgan had already been elected as MP for Meath and Louth. TSP vii. 559, 565, 574. A third name promoted in some quarters was that of William Hetley (or Hebley), whose claim probably rested on the fact that he was closely associated with Edward Montagu II* and that his wife, Carina (sister of Henry Cromwell alias Williams*), was Henry Cromwell’s second cousin. Hetley withdrew once it became clear that Thurloe would be difficult to beat. Lansd. 823, f. 173; Pepys’s Diary, x. 182. On 20 December Whichcote reported to St John that Thurloe would probably be elected, despite the decision being ‘in the hands of the multitude’, for although there were several others being canvassed, all accepted that he should have one of the seats. TSP vii. 574. According to Whichcote, the general perception was that the second candidate ought to be someone closely connected with the university ‘who knows all our affairs’. TSP vii. 574. One such person was the master of Trinity Hall, John Bond*, who had sat in the Long Parliament and who had only just stepped down as the vice-chancellor. Bond allowed his name to be put forward, although he made sure that Henry Cromwell was told that he would happily withdraw if Morgan’s candidacy was revived. Lansd. 823, f. 173.
The result of the meeting of the senate on 31 December bore out Whichcote’s assumptions, but not quite in the way that Bond may have expected. CUL, University Archives, O. III. 82; C219/46: Camb. Univ. election return, 31 Dec. 1658; Henry Cromwell Corresp. 439. Thurloe was indeed elected unopposed to the senior place. According to the report in Mercurius Politicus, he received 120 votes. Mercurius Politicus no. 548 (30 Dec. 1658-6 Jan. 1659, E.761.2). (That same day he was also returned at Huntingdon and six days later Wisbech followed suit: he decided to sit for the university, the most prestigious of the seats. CJ vii. 606b.) However, the second place went not to Bond but to Thomas Sclater* who, as Ralph Cudworth, master of Christ’s, explained to Thurloe, was ‘a very ingenious person, of very good abilities’ who could be trusted to ‘mind the interests of the university’. TSP vii. 587. A former don who still lived in Cambridge, Sclater may have been familiar with the university’s affairs, but he was hardly the most obvious candidate, for his academic career had ended in the 1640s when he was ejected from his Trinity fellowship during Manchester’s purge. His success had been largely a matter of timing. In an attempt to block what was probably seen as Sclater’s lightweight candidature, some had tried canvassing for Nathaniel Bacon, an alternative of indisputable substance. As well as his extensive parliamentary experience, much of it gained as the university’s own representative, Bacon, like Thurloe, offered access to the highest government circles, for he had since risen to become a master of requests to the lord protector. Cudworth was surely correct when he told Thurloe that Bacon was
a person so well known amongst us, and so highly esteemed, that if there had been the least hint given, that it would be acceptable to him at the beginning, when men were unengaged he would (notwithstanding that consideration before-mentioned [Sclater’s knowledge of university affairs]) have certainly been chosen, without any dispute, next yourself, before any other. TSP vii. 587.
The difficulty was that too many felt bound by their earlier promises to support Sclater. TSP vii. 587. Bacon’s supporters had left it too late and Bacon, who was assured of a seat at Ipswich, had no reason to press his candidature. Bond may well have withdrawn for the same reason. On the day, Sclater’s was probably the only name for the second place presented to the senate for its approval. Sclater thus succeeded to the role which had once been Eden’s, which had been Lucas’s during the 1640s, and which in subsequent Parliaments would pass to Thomas Crouch†. Attracting major public figures to represent it was never Cambridge University’s problem. It was these secondary figures, the university’s own men, who were much more likely to bring to the fore the academic in-fighting of their colleagues.
