Christmas at the University of Oxford is synonymous with the preservation of centuries-old traditions. Among these, a peculiar case stands out — the mysterious story of Henry Symeonis, a figure entrenched in obscurity and enigma, concealed within the annals of the University’s statutes.
In 1827, during a comprehensive review of the university’s statutes—the rules governing its operations—an unusual clause came to light. It pertained to Bachelors of Arts and the peculiar oath they had to swear to become a Master of Arts. Alongside the expected commitments to uphold the University’s statutes and not to lecture elsewhere, there was a perplexing addition. Bachelors of Arts were required to swear never to agree to the reconciliation of one Henry Symeonis.
The archives provided no insight into the identity of Henry Symeonis, the transgressions he committed, or why future Masters of Arts were explicitly prohibited from reconciling with him. The University’s governing regulations provided no context, leaving historians and scholars puzzled about this obscure figure’s place in history.
For years, the mystery endured. In 1608, Brian Twyne, the first Keeper of the Archives, speculated that Symeonis was a Regent in Arts who deceitfully claimed a Bachelor of Arts degree to gain entry to a foreign monastery. However, no evidence or source supported Twyne’s claim, leaving the mystery unresolved.
It wasn’t until 1912 that the Keeper of the University Archives, Reginald Lane Poole, unraveled the enigma. Poole identified Henry Symeonis as a historical figure who lived in the 13th century. Henry, son of Henry Symeonis, belonged to a wealthy family in Oxford, and his father was one of the town’s wealthiest residents in the early 1200s.
The dark stain on Henry Symeonis’s legacy emerged in 1242 when he, along with several townspeople, was found guilty of murdering a University student. King Henry III imposed a hefty fine of £80 and banishment from Oxford upon the culprits. Forced to stay away at least until the King’s return from abroad, Henry Symeonis, disregarding the decree, had returned to Oxford by the spring of the following year.
The events that followed are shrouded in ambiguity. University records from that time are scarce, and historical accounts conflict. However, it is known that in 1264, King Henry III pardoned Henry Symeonis for the murder committed 22 years earlier. The King’s letters patent instructed the University to allow Henry’s return to Oxford under the condition of good behavior.
The University’s response to this pardon remains unclear. While Poole suggested a potential eruption of town-gown violence, the sequence of events suggests that the University had already left Oxford by the time of the pardon. Town-gown relations were strained, exacerbated by the presence of a rival university in Northampton. Henry III’s attempt to reconcile the two entities led to the closure of the Northampton university.
Research indicates that Henry Symeonis might have acquired the King’s pardon and permission to return to Oxford, with the University vehemently refusing. In 1827, after centuries of the oath persisting in the statutes, Convocation decided to abolish the oath against Henry Symeonis. However, the reason for this decision remains undocumented.
The tale of Henry Symeonis stands as a testament to the University’s enduring traditions, even when rooted in centuries-old grudges. By immortalizing Henry Symeonis in its statutes as a figure of institutional animosity, the University inadvertently prolonged his legacy, turning a historical villain into a celebrated, albeit infamous, character. The persistence of tradition, in this case, became a tale of institutional memory far outlasting the crime it sought to remember.
