Scholar Antony Wood made several enemies at Oxford University in the 17th century, writes CHRIS KOENIG

Cantankerousness, even the odd heartfelt hatred, are not qualities totally unknown among Oxford academics, but these days, few, if any, punch each other on the nose whenever they meet up about town.

Oxford historian Antony Wood or Antony Wood as he liked to style himself, presumably in order to sound grander was the archetypal crochety old scholar. He went to war, not without provocation, with the translator into Latin of his famous magnus opus History and Antiquities of the University of Oxford: one Dick Peers.

At first Mr Peers came off worst in these unfortunate encounters, receiving a bloody nose and experiencing the thrill of having his ears boxed in various pubs and at Oxford University printing house, then, in the 17th century, incongruously occupying the upper part of the Sheldonian Theatre.

A contemporary of Wood, Humphrey Prideaux, wrote: "They had a skirmish at Sol Hardeing keeper of a tavern in All Saints' parish, another at the printing house, and several other places."

He added: "As Peers always cometh off with a bloody nose or a black eye, he was for a long time afraid to goe anywhere where he might chance to meet his too powerful adversary, for fear of another drubbing."

Then the tide of battle turned in favour of Mr Peers. He was made a University pro-proctor. Mr Prideaux wrote: "Now Wood is as much afraid to meet him, least he should exercise his authority upon him. And although he had been a good bowzeing blad boozer, yet it hath been observed that never since his adversary hath been in office hath he dared to be out after nine, least he should meet him and exact the rigor of the statute upon him."

The statute required all scholars to be in their rooms before Great Tom, the bell housed in the tower of Christ Church, stopped peeling out its nightly curfew.

And the cause of all this belligerence? The pusillanimous Mr Peers was taking orders from the autocratic Dean of Christ Church, Dr Fell, instead of from Wood: the whole business was a sub-plot of a much larger academic dispute between Dr Fell and no less a person then the "Philosopher of Malmesbury" himself, Thomas Hobbes.

Poor Mr Wood had eyes to see the greatness of Hobbes, but the mighty Dr Fell considered him a pipsqueak; he therefore calmly altered all that Mr Wood had written about Hobbes. Obviously, Dr Fell thought that ordinary disciplines that applied to other mortals did not affect him!

The dispute even reached royal ears when the old man Hobbes met King Charles II in Pall Mall and begged leave to defend himself. He attacked Dr Fell with cold reason, eliciting the famous (in some circles at any rate) riposte referring to him as the "Malmesbury animal".

Grumpiness in Oxford through the ages has usually stemmed from people wanting to change things. Mr Wood, the grumpiest of grumpy old men, had seen more than his fair share of change.

Born in 1632 in a house opposite Merton College, he saw as a boy the siege of Oxford and the arrival of the court of Charles I and Henrietta Maria; then the installation of puritans as masters of colleges and the chancellorship of the university of Oliver Cromwell; then the restoration of the king.

In old age we read of him rising at four o'clock every morning to write his waspish accounts of other academics' lives. He died in 1695 and was buried in Merton College Chapel, where a plaque was later placed in his memory.

Let's hope the present dispute between colleges and university, administrators and academics, will not result in bloody noses. On second thoughts . . .