The Further Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green, an Oxford Under-Graduate Part 5

the "three times three," and the "one cheer more," and the "again," and "again," and the "one other little un!" were uproariously given (as Mr.

Foote expressed it) "by the whole strength of the company, a.s.sisted by Messrs. Larkyns, Smalls, Fosbrooke, Flexible Shanks, Cheke, and Verdant Green."

The forehead of the last-named gentleman was decorated with a patch of brown paper, from which arose an aroma, as though of vinegar. The battle of "Town and Gown" was over; and Mr. Verdant Green was among the number of the wounded.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Town and Gown disturbances are of considerable antiquity. Fuller and Matthew Paris give accounts of some which occurred as early as the year 1238. These disputes not unfrequently terminated fatally to some of the combatants. One of the most serious Town and Gown rows on record took place on the day of St. Scholastica the Virgin, February 10th, 1345, when several lives were lost on either side. The University was at that time in the Lincoln diocese; and Grostete, the Bishop, placed the townspeople under an interdict, from which they were not released till 1357, and then only on condition that the mayor and sixty of the chief burgesses should, on every anniversary of the day of St. Scholastica, attend St. Mary's Church and offer up ma.s.s for the souls of the slain scholars; and should also individually present an offering of one penny at the high altar. They, moreover, paid a yearly fine of 100 marks to the University, with the penalty of an additional fine of the same sum for every omission in attending at St. Mary's. This continued up to the time of the Reformation, when it gradually fell into abeyance. In the fifteenth year of Elizabeth, however, the University a.s.serted their claim to all arrears. The matter being brought to trial, it was decided that the town should continue the annual fine and penance, though the arrears were forgiven. The fine was yearly paid on the 10th of February up to our own time: the mayor and chief burgesses attended at St.

Mary's, and made the offering at the conclusion of the litany, which, on that occasion, was read from the altar. Thia was at length put an end to by Convocation in the year 1825.

[3] Corrupted by Oxford p.r.o.nunciation (which makes Magdalen _Maudlin_ into St _Old's_.)

[4] "A Bachelor of Arts," Act I.

[5] The great bell of Christ Church. It tolls 101 times each evening at ten minutes past nine o'clock (there being 101 students on the foundation) and marks the time for the closing of the college gates.

"Tom" is one of the lions of Oxford. It formerly belonged to Oseney Abbey, and weighs about 17,000 pounds, being more than double the weight of the great bell of St. Paul's.

[6] The porch was erected in 1637 by order of Archbishop Laud. In the centre of the porch is a statue of the Virgin with the Child in her arms, holding a small crucifix; which at the time of its erection gave such offence to the Puritans that it was included in the articles of impeachment against the Archbishop. The statue remains to this day.

[7] The Marshal is the Proctor's chief officer. The name of 'Bull-dogs'

is given to the two inferior officers who attend the Proctor in his nightly rounds.

[8] The _exact_ spot where Archbishop Cranmer and Bishops Ridley and Latimer suffered martyrdom is not known. "The most likely supposition is, that it was in the town ditch, the site of which is now occupied by the houses in Broad Street, which are immediately opposite the gateway of Balliol College, or the footpath in front of them, where an extensive layer of wood-ashes is known to remain."--(Parker.)

[9] aen., Book v., 378.

CHAPTER V.

MR. VERDANT GREEN IS FAVOURED WITH MR. BOUNCER'S OPINIONS REGARDING AN UNDERGRADUATE'S EPISTOLARY COMMUNICATIONS TO HIS MATERNAL RELATIVE.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Come in, whoever you are! don't mind the dogs!" shouted little Mr.

Bouncer, as he lay, in an extremely inelegant att.i.tude, in a red morocco chair, which was considerably the worse for wear, chiefly on account of the ill-usage it had to put up with, in being made to represent its owner's antagonist, whenever Mr. Bouncer thought fit to practise his fencing. "Oh! it's you and Giglamps, is it, Charley? I'm just refreshing myself with a weed, for I've been desperately hard at work."

"What! Harry Bouncer devoting himself to study! But this is the age of wonders," said Charles Larkyns, who entered the room in company with Mr.

Verdant Green, whose forehead still betrayed the effects of the blow he had received a few nights before.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"It ain't reading that I meant," replied Mr. Bouncer, "though that always _does_ floor me, and no mistake! and what's the use of their making us peg away so at Latin and Greek, I can't make out. When I go out into society, I don't want to talk about those old Greek and Latin birds that they make us get up. I don't want to ask any old dowager I happen to fall in with at a tea-fight, whether she believes all the crammers that Herodotus tells us, or whether she's well up in the naughty tales and rummy nuisances that we have to pa.s.s no end of our years in getting by heart. And when I go to a ball, and do the light fantastic, I don't want to ask my partner what she thinks about Euripides, or whether she prefers Ovid's Metamorphoses to Ovid's Art of Love, and all that sort of thing; and as for requesting her to do me a problem of Euclid, instead of working me any glorified slippers or woolleries, I'd scorn the _h_action. I ain't like you, Charley, and I'm not _guv_ in the cla.s.sics: I saw too much of the beggars while I was at Eton to take kindly to 'em; and just let me once get through my Greats, and see if I don't precious soon drop the acquaintance of those old cla.s.sical parties!"

"No you won't, old fellow!" said Charles Larkyns; "you'll find that they'll stick to you through life, just like poor relations, and you won't be able to shake them off. And you ought not to wish to do so, more especially as, in the end, you will find them to have been very rich relations."

"A sort of 'O my prophetic soul, my uncle!' I suppose, Master Charley,"

observed Mr. Bouncer; "but what I meant when I said that I had been hard at work, was, that I had been writing a letter; and, though I say it that ought not to say it, I flatter myself it's no end of a good letter."

"Is it a love-letter?" asked Charles Larkyns, who was leaning against the mantelpiece, amusing himself with a cigar which he had taken from Mr. Bouncer's box.

"A love-letter?" replied the little gentleman, contemptuously--"my gum!

no; I should rayther think not! I may have done many foolish things in my life, but I can't have the tender pa.s.sion laid to my charge. No! I've been writing my letter to the Mum: I always write to her once a term."

Mr. Bouncer, it must be observed, always referred to his maternal relative (his father had been long dead) by the epithet of "the Mum."

"Once a term!" said our hero, in a tone of surprise; "why I always write home once or twice every week."

"You don't mean to say so, Giglamps!" replied Mr. Bouncer, with admiration. "Well, some fellers have what you call a genius for that sort of thing, you see, though what you can find to tell 'em I can't imagine.

But if I'd gone at that pace I should have got right through the Guide Book by this time, and then it would have been all U P, and I should have been obleeged to have invented another dodge. You don't seem to take, Giglamps?"

"Well, I really don't know what you mean," answered our hero.

"Why," continued Mr. Bouncer, "you see, there's only the Mum and f.a.n.n.y at home: f.a.n.n.y's my sister, Giglamps--a regular stunner--just suit you!--and they, you understand, don't care to hear about wines, and Town and Gowns, and all that sort of thing; and, you see, I ain't inventive and that, and can't spin a yarn about nothing; so, as soon as ever I came up to Oxford, I invested money in a Guide Book; and I began at the beginning, and I gave the Mum three pages of Guide Book in each letter.

Of course, you see, the Mum imagines it's all my own observation; and she thinks no end of my letters, and says that they make her know Oxford almost as well as if she lived here; and she, of course, makes a good deal of me; and as Oxford's the place where I hang out, you see, she takes an interest in reading something about the jolly old place."

"Of course," observed Mr. Verdant Green; "my mamma--mother, at least--and sisters, always take pleasure in hearing about Oxford; but your plan never occurred to me."

"It's a first-rater, and no mistake," said Mr. Bouncer, confidently, "and saves a deal of trouble. I think of taking out a patent for it--'Bouncer's Complete Letter-Writer'--or get some literary swell to put it into a book, 'with a portrait of the inventor;' it would be sure to sell. You see, it's what you call amus.e.m.e.nt blended with information; and that's more than you can say of most men's letters to the Home department."

"c.o.c.ky Palmer's, for instance," said Charles Larkyns, "which always contained a full, true, and particular account of his Wheatley doings.

He used to go over there, Verdant, to indulge in the n.o.ble sport of c.o.c.k-fighting, for which he had a most unamiable and unenviable weakness; that was the reason why he was called 'c.o.c.ky' Palmer. His elder brother--who was a Pembroke man--was distinguished by the p.r.o.nomen 'Snuffy,' to express his excessive partiality for that t.i.tillating compound."

"And Snuffy Palmer," remarked Mr. Bouncer, "was a long sight better feller than c.o.c.ky, who was in the very worst set in Brazenface. But c.o.c.ky did the Wheatley dodge once too often, and it was a good job for the King of Oude when his friend c.o.c.ky came to grief, and had to take his name off the books."

"You look as though you wanted a translation of this," said Charles Larkyns to our hero, who had been listening to the conversation with some wonderment,--understanding about as much of it as many persons who attend the St. James's Theatre understand the dialogue of the French Plays. "There are College _cabalia_, as well as Jewish; and College surnames are among these. 'The King of Oude' was a man of the name of Towlinson, who always used to carry into Hall with him a bottle of '_the King of Oxide's Sauce_,' for which he had some mysterious liking, and without which he professed himself unable to get through his dinner. At one time he was a great friend of c.o.c.ky Palmer's, and used to go with him to the c.o.c.k-fights at Wheatley--that village just on the other side Shotover Hill--where we did a 'const.i.tutional' the other day. c.o.c.ky, as our respected friend says, 'came to grief,' but was allowed to save himself from expulsion by voluntarily, or rather in-voluntarily, taking his name off the books. When his connection with c.o.c.ky had thus been ruthlessly broken, 'the King' got into a better set, and retrieved his character."

"The moral of which, my beloved Giglamps," observed Mr. Bouncer, "is, that there are as many sets of men in a College as there are of quadrilles in a ball-room, and that it's just as easy to take your place in one as it is in another; but, that when you've once taken up your position, you'll find it ain't an easy thing, you see, to make a change for yourself, till the set is broken up. Whereby, Giglamps, you may comprehend what a grateful bird you ought to be, for Charley's having put you into the best set in Brazenface."

Mr. Verdant Green was heard to murmur, "sensible of honour,--grateful for kindness,--endeavours to deserve,"--and the other broken sentiments which are commonly made use of by gentlemen who get upon their legs to return thanks for having been "tea-potted."

"If you like to hear it," said Mr. Bouncer, "I'll read you my letter to the Mum. It ain't very private; and I flatter myself, Giglamps, that it'll serve you as a model."

"Let's have it by all means, Harry," said Charles Larkyns. "It must be an interesting doc.u.ment; and I am curious to hear what it is that you consider a model for epistolary communication from an undergraduate to his maternal relative."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Off she goes then;" observed Mr. Bouncer; "lend me your ears--list, list, O list! as the recruiting-sergeant or some other feller says in the Play. 'Now, my little dears! look straight for'ard--blow your noses, and don't brathe on the gla.s.ses!'" and Mr. Bouncer read the letter, interspersing it with explanatory observations:--

"'_My dearest mother,--I have been quite well since I left you, and I hope you and f.a.n.n.y have been equally salubrious._'--That's doing the civil, you see: now we pa.s.s on to statistics.--'_We had rain the day before yesterday, but we shall have a new moon to-night._'--You see, the Mum always likes to hear about the weather, so I get that out of the Almanack. Now we get on to the interesting part of the letter.--'_I will now tell you a little about Merton College._'--That's where I had just got to. We go right through the Guide Book, you understand.--'_The history of this establishment is of peculiar importance, as exhibiting the primary model of all the collegiate bodies in Oxford and Cambridge.

The statutes of Walter de Merton had been more or less copied by all other founders in succession; and the whole const.i.tution of both Universities, as we now behold them, may be, not without reason, ascribed to the liberality and munificence of this truly great man._'--Truly great man! that's no end good, ain't it? observed Mr.

Bouncer, in the manner of the 'mobled queen is good' of Polonius.--'_His sagacity and wisdom led him to profit by the spirit of the times; his opulence enabled him to lay the foundation of a n.o.bler system; and the splendour of his example induced others, in subsequent ages, to raise a superstructure at once attractive and solid._'--That's piling it up mountaynious, ain't it?--'_The students were no longer dispersed through the streets and lanes of the city, dwelling in insulated houses, halls, inns, or hostels, subject to dubious control and precarious discipline._'--That's stunnin', is'nt it? just like those Times fellers write.--'_But placed under the immediate superintendence of tutors and governors, and lodged in comfortable chambers. This was little less than an academical revolution; and a new order of things may be dated from this memorable era. Love to f.a.n.n.y; and, believe me your affectionate Son, Henry Bouncer._'--If the Mum don't say that's first-rate, I'm a Dutchman! You see, I don't write very close, so that this respectably fills up three sides of a sheet of note-paper. Oh, here's something over the leaf. '_P.S. I hope Stump and Rowdy have got something for me, because I want some tin very bad._' That's all! Well, Giglamps! don't you call that quite a model letter for a University man to send to his tender parient?"

"It certainly contains some interesting information," said our hero, with a Quaker-like indirectness of reply.

"It seems to me, Harry," said Charles Larkyns, "that the pith of it, like a lady's letter, lies in the postscript--the demand for money."

"You see," observed the little gentleman in explanation, "Stump and Rowdy are the beggars that have got all my property till I come of age next year; and they only let me have money at certain times, because it's what they facetiously call _tied-up_: though _why_ they've tied it up, or _where_ they've tied it up, I hav'nt the smallest idea. So, though I tick for nearly everything,--for men at College, Giglamps, go upon tick as naturally as the crows do on the sheep's backs,--I sometimes am rather hard up for ready dibs; and then I give the Mum a gentlemanly hint of this, and she tips me. By-the-way," continued Mr.

Bouncer, as he re-read his postscript, "I must alter the word 'tin' into 'money'; or else she'll be taking it literally, just as she did with the ponies. Know what a pony is, Giglamps?"