Yeldard was succeeded in 1598/9 by Dr. Ralph Kettell, of Kings-Langley, scholar on the nomination of the Foundress in 1579. Though not a man of mark outside Oxford, he seems to have initiated the development of the College in the seventeenth century. He personally supervised every department of college life, and left in his curious sloping handwriting full memoranda of lawsuits and special expenses, lists of members, and copies of deeds. By husbanding the resources of the College, he restored extensively the old Durham quadrangle, superimposing attics or “cock-lofts,” rebuilding the hall, and erecting on the site of “Perilous Hall,” then leased from Oriel, the handsome house which bears his name. He was a “right Church of England man,” and disliked Laud’s despotic reforms. When an old man he became very eccentric, if we may believe John Aubrey (commoner 1642), who saw him as he is painted with “a fresh ruddie complexion--a very tall well-grown man. His gowne and surplice and hood being on, he had a terrible gigantique aspect, with his sharp gray eies. The ordinary gowne he wore was a russet cloth gowne--He spake with a squeaking voice--He dragged with his right foot a little, by which he gave warning (like the rattle-snake) of his comeing. Will. Egerton would go so like him that sometimes he would make the whole chapel rise up.” “When he observed the scholars’ haire longer than ordinary, he would bring a paire of cizers in his muffe (which he commonly wore), and woe be to them that sate on the outside of the table. I remember he cutt Mr. Radford’s haire with the knife that chipps the bread on the buttery-hatch, and then he sang, ‘_And was not Grim the Collier finely trimmed?_’” The whole of Aubrey’s remarks on him and other Trinity men is good reading, and we may conclude with an anecdote which is at once suggestive of, and a contrast with, a chapter in _John Inglesant_.