Imagine stepping back in time to the year 1350 and walking through the streets of Oxford, England. The skyline is dominated by the spires of churches and the turrets of castle keeps. Armored knights ride past on horseback while ragged beggars ply the muddy roads. And amidst it all, a throng of young men in dark robes hurry through the town, clutching books, arguing philosophy, and speaking in the ancient tongue of Latin. These are the students of medieval Oxford University. But who were they really underneath those scholarly trappings? What was it like to be an Oxford undergrad over 600 years ago, in the 14th century? Let‘s take a closer look at the life and times of the typical medieval Oxonian.
Origins of Oxford
The University of Oxford is one of the oldest in the world, but its exact founding date remains a mystery lost to time. Teaching began there in some form around 1096, according to legend, and by 1167 Oxford was a full-fledged center of learning, complete with student housing. Its development continued throughout the 13th century, with the establishment of now-famous colleges like Merton (1264), Balliol (1263), and University College (1249). By 1355, when a student brawl erupted into a deadly riot, Oxford University was renowned across Europe – but still a very different place than the cosmopolitan institution we know today.
The Medieval University Model
Oxford was part of a new educational movement sweeping Europe in the Middle Ages. The university model originated in Bologna, Paris, and Oxford in the 11th-13th centuries, later spreading to Cambridge, Salamanca, Prague, and beyond. These early universities were closely tied to the Christian church. Most scholars held clerical status and the curriculum was heavily theological. But the medieval university was also the birthplace of a more evidence-based approach to learning inherited from the Islamic world. At Oxford and elsewhere, reason and logic began to challenge blind faith.
During the 14th century, Oxford mirrored the rest of English society in many ways. Political instability wracked the realm as England waged the Hundred Years‘ War in France, battled Scotland and Wales closer to home, and saw the overthrow and murder of King Edward II. The Black Death arrived in 1348, wiping out over a third of the population. Through it all, Oxford remained a bastion of scholarship, though the student body dwindled and town-gown tensions simmered.
Student Demographics
So just how many students called Oxford home in the 14th century? University records are spotty, but based on tax rolls and census data, historians estimate a total enrollment between 1,200 and 1,500 on the high end, with numbers bottoming out around 400 during the plague years. That‘s just a fraction of the 24,000 students Oxford boasts today!
These medieval Oxonians were a surprisingly homogeneous lot. As we‘ve seen, 94% hailed from England proper, split between a Northern faction (including Scots) and a Southern faction (including Welsh and Irish). Oxford had students and masters from all corners of the British Isles, but England dominated. A smattering of international students rounded out the ranks, mostly from France, Flanders, Germany, and Italy.
Age-wise, the student body skewed older than you might assume. Oxford statutes set 16 as the minimum age for admission, and most students were in their late teens or early 20s. Your typical 14th century Oxford man was a legal adult pursuing a baccalaureate as the capstone to his education, not a callow youth at the start of his path.
Socioeconomic diversity was also limited. Oxford was prohibitively expensive for most commoners, with students responsible for paying their teachers as well as their living expenses. In 1300, the average annual cost for an Oxford undergraduate was £5, the equivalent of over £4,000 ($5,000) today! The vast majority came from the landowning, professional, and merchant classes – the medieval 1%. That said, some poorer students did manage to attend on scholarships and clerical stipends. Work-study was available in the form of waiting tables in dining halls or assisting in the library. But a university education remained an elite privilege.
| Estimated Oxford Student Population |
|---|
| 1300: 1,500 |
| 1348 (Black Death): 400 |
| 1377: 1,200 |
| 1400: 1,000 |
The Scholar‘s Schedule
So what did these upper-crust pupils actually learn? The medieval curriculum was based on the Seven Liberal Arts: grammar, rhetoric and logic (the trivium) plus arithmetic, geometry, music and astronomy (the quadrivium). Mastering this classical knowledge was seen as the foundation for all higher learning.
An Oxford student‘s day revolved around lectures, debates, and oral exams. A typical timetable might look like this:
| Time | Activity |
|---|---|
| 6am | Rise for morning Mass |
| 7am | Breakfast of bread, ale, and porridge in the hall |
| 8am | Lecture on logic |
| 10am | Lecture on rhetoric |
| 12pm | Midday meal |
| 1pm | Lecture on music theory |
| 3pm | Disputation (formal debate) |
| 5pm | Evensong prayers |
| 6pm | Supper |
| 8pm | Private study and translation exercises |
| 10pm | Bed |
Undergrads would spend 4-6 years completing the arts curriculum before facing a series of oral exams to earn their Bachelor of Arts. Only a select few would continue on for the elite Master of Arts distinction. Future theologians, lawyers, and physicians needed the BA to advance to those specialized professional schools.
Home Away From Home
When not hitting the books, most 14th century Oxonians lived in a hall, hostel, or college. Far from the lavish dorms of the modern age, medieval student housing was spartan. A hall might pack in 20-50 young men, sleeping 4-5 to a room on bunks with straw mattresses. They ate communal meals, often just bread, cheese, and vegetable stew. Sanitation was primitive and disease rampant. And forget about privacy – everyone from the Principle to the lowliest first-year shared close quarters.
Still, it wasn‘t all hardship. Students enjoyed periodic breaks from their studies, indulging in archery contests, chess matches, poetry readings, and of course, the ever-popular pastime of drinking. Most halls had a taproom serving beer and wine. Gaming and gambling were also popular, if officially frowned upon.
Oxford undergrads did manage to let loose in more highbrow ways too. Each December they elected a "Lord of Misrule" – a kind of mock king – to preside over the Christmas revels. This carnival of music, costumes, and feasting offered a pressure valve from the rigors of study. Students also staged religious plays, both within their college and out in the streets. And many sang in church choirs or played the organ.
Collegiate Costs
But the good times required serious coin. Paying for an Oxford education in the 14th century was no small feat. See a breakdown of typical student expenditures:
| Expense | Annual Cost |
|---|---|
| Tuition and fees | £2 |
| Room and board | £1 10s |
| Books and supplies | 10s |
| Candles for study | 5s |
| Clothes and linen | £1 |
| Recreation and charity | 5s |
| Total | £5 10s |
For context, a typical Oxford master earned only £10 a year in salary – so tuition alone ran nearly half his pay! Most students relied on their family wealth to foot the hefty bill. But some benefited from bursaries and chantry scholarships endowed by rich patrons. Colleges were originally founded to host these poorer scholars (the so-called "poor boys").
The influx of students and their spending greatly boosted the Oxford economy. Inns, taverns, bookshops, laundries, grocers, and tailors all flourished in the university town. The municipal authorities welcomed the business, but also resented the university‘s special legal privileges. Clashes over the price and quality of food, drink and lodging were common, culminating in the infamous St. Scholastica Day riot.
Town and Gown
On February 10, 1355, the simmering tensions between scholars and townspeople boiled over in an an ale-fueled affray. It began with two students grousing over the quality of wine at the Swindlestock Tavern. When the landlord replied rudely, they assaulted him, smashing his head with a tankard. The mayor of Oxford demanded that the culprits be handed over to face justice, but they took sanctuary in a college church. A mob of townsmen then attacked every scholar they could find, killing or maiming 63. The gownsmen fought back, killing about 30 of the locals. The violence raged for two days, finally halted by the arrival of the king‘s men.
In the aftermath, King Edward III forced the town to pay the university £500 (over £400,000 today) in restitution. The administration gained new powers over the populace, including the right to regulate the price of bread and ale. Every February thereafter, the mayor and councilmen had to march bareheaded through the streets on the anniversary of the riot and pay a fine for the sin of their ancestors. The yearly ritual of atonement lasted 470 years until finally abolished in 1825!
The St Scholastica Day Riot was an extreme example of the strains between town and gown in medieval Oxford. But it captures the paradoxical position of the 14th century student. He was an outsider, often a foreigner, thrown into a community that both welcomed and resented him. He enjoyed legal privileges and social status, yet also faced financial hardship and existential danger. It was a tightrope walk between the cloistered world of scholarship and the chaotic wider realm.
Legacy
So what can we take away from this glimpse into the lives of Oxonians past? In many ways, they were not so different from the students of today. They left home and family to make a new life in an unfamiliar place. They struggled to balance study and socializing, highbrow and lowbrow culture, education and indulgence. They dreamed of expanding their minds while emptying their purses. The details of the university experience have changed dramatically from the 14th century to now, but the essential nature of being a student remains much the same.
Yet there is also great value in pondering the profound differences. Oxford in the 1300s was an elite all-male bastion, deeply entwined with the church. It functioned as a finishing school for the tiny sliver of wealthy Christian men who might aspire to leadership roles in medieval society. A far cry from the meritocratic melting pot of the modern university. Appreciating that gap is crucial for recognizing both how much progress has been made and how far we still have to go in extending the promise of higher education to all.
The study of the past is the study of ourselves. By walking a mile in the shoes of a medieval Oxford scholar, we come to see our own world in a new light. The university is at once an enduring ideal and an ever-evolving institution, constantly reinventing itself for each new era. In 600 years, may the students of the future look back on us with as much wistful wonder as we now regard those robed Latin-speaking lads of long ago.
