We Don't Know Our Town's History

And we're living elbow to elbow with it

How much do most students know about the history of our town? I think most of us are at least dimly aware of the Reformation drama. The gruesome images of Patrick Hamilton at the stake or Cardinal Beaton hanging from the castle walls are hard to forget. Perhaps some of us know the story of Kate Kennedy, or the University’s brief involvement with the French and American Revolutions. Here are a couple more esoteric stories from the lower tiers of the St Andrews iceberg that St Andreans ought to know about. 

The University was founded by Antipope Benedict XIII, known before his appointment as Pedro de Luna. Not included on the official Vatican lists of popes, Benedict’s founding of St Andrews was his greatest legacy. His surname Luna is commemorated in the crescent at the top of the University's coat-of-arms (luna being Latin for moon). Bizarrely, the skull of the University’s founder is on display in a museum in Zaragoza. Maybe we should ask for it back?

Another, even more important piece of bone to the town’s history is the second knuckle of the Apostle Andrew, supposedly brought to Fife by St Rule in the 7th century. According to legend, St Rule snuck the finger bone past Muslim customs officials in Egypt by hiding it in a barrel of salted pork. The bone was lost in the Reformation, although some say it was taken to Edinburgh during the chaos or hidden by a pious resident. Today, a fragment of the Apostle’s shoulder is in St Mary’s Cathedral, Edinburgh, a gift from the Archbishop of Amalfi in 1879. 

St Andrews always seems to be at the periphery of world events, in a way that has ensured that the past settles like dust on the town. For example, the University’s list of degree recipients includes characters as diverse as Ben Franklin and Margaret Atwood. It also includes Jean-Paul Marat, one-time leader of the French Revolution. Marat was assassinated in his bathtub by one Charlotte Corday in 1793. In a terrific piece of historical irony, one of Corday’s descendants now attends St Andrews.

Another (honorary) degree recipient was Lawrence of Arabia, who thought the invitation was a joke. “A letter came to me from St Andrews (a charming and miniature place in Scotland) offering me an honorary degree,” he wrote. “Ha Ha, said I, some undergrad is pulling my leg!”

Other figures who’ve spent time here include novelist Jorge Luis Borges, philosopher Adam Smith, and playwright Samuel Johnson. The latter’s words about St Andrews in the 1770s are not kind - “a university declining, a college alienated, and a church profaned and hastening to the ground.” The University was in a state of terminal decline in the 18th century, forced to sell St Leonard’s College in 1747. One Victorian source claims students made golf balls for a living well into the 19th century. 

As Professor Fyfe and other historians here have pointed out, the University’s reversal of fortune came about at the same time as involvement in the empire overseas. One of St Andrews’ most infamous imperialists was Lord Elgin, of Elgin Marbles fame, who studied here in the 1780s. Like many Classics students, Elgin was left unemployed after graduation and was forced to take up a career in theft. 

These are just a few of the stranger episodes in the University’s six centuries of history. For those still interested, I recommend the Wikipedia deep dives on James Crichton, the Union Debating Society, or the 2006 St Andrews Agreements. There’s really so much more to this “charming and miniature place” than three streets and a cathedral.

Illustration by Lauren McAndrew