Part 15 (2/2)

”Now, there is one thing,” continued Mr. Larkyns, ”which you really must do before you go down, and that is to see Blenheim. And the best thing that you can do is to join Fosbrooke and Bouncer and me, in a trap to Woodstock to-morrow. We'll go in good time, and make a day of it.”

Verdant readily agreed to make one of the party; and the next morning, after a breakfast in Charles Larkyns' rooms, they made their way to a side street leading out of Beaumont Street, where the dog-cart was in waiting. As it was drawn by two horses, placed in tandem fas.h.i.+on, Mr. Fosbrooke had an opportunity of displaying his Jehu powers; which he did to great advantage, not allowing his leader to run his nose into the cart, and being enabled to turn sharp corners without chipping the bricks, or running the wheel up the bank.

They reached Woodstock after a very pleasant ride, and clattered up its one long street to the princ.i.p.al hotel; but Mr. Fosbrooke whipped into the yard to the left so rapidly, that our hero, who was not much used to the back seat of a dog-cart, flew off by some means at a tangent to the right, and was consequently degraded in the eyes of the inhabitants.

[116 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]

After ordering for dinner every thing that the house was enabled to supply, they made their way in the first place (as it could only be seen between 11 and 1) to Blenheim; the princely splendours of which were not only costly in themselves, but, as our hero soon found, costly also to the sight-seer. The doors in the ~suite~ of apartments were all opposite to each other, so that, as a crimson cord was pa.s.sed from one to the other, the spectator was kept entirely to the one side of the room, and merely a glance could be obtained of the Raffaelle, the glorious Rubens's,* the Vandycks, and the almost equally fine Sir Joshuas. But even the glance they had was but a pa.s.sing one, as the servant trotted them through the rooms with the rapidity of locomotion and explanation of a Westminster Abbey verger; and he made a fierce attack on Verdant, who had lagged behind, and was short-sightedly peering at the celebrated ”Charles the First” of Vandyck, as though he had lingered in order to surrept.i.tiously appropriate some of the tables, couches, and other trifling articles that ornamented the rooms. In this way they went at railroad pace through the ~suite~ of rooms and the library, - where the chief thing pointed out appeared to be a grease-mark on the floor made by somebody at somebody else's wedding-breakfast, - and to the chapel, where they admired the ingenuity of the sparrows and other birds that built about Rysbrach's monumental mountain of marble to the memory of the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Marlborough; - and then to the so-called ”t.i.tian room” (shade of mighty t.i.tian, forgive the insult!) where they saw the Loves of the G.o.ds represented in the most unloveable manner,+ and where a flunkey lounged lazily at the door, and, in spite of Mr. Bouncer's expostulatory ”chaff,” demanded half-a-crown for the sight.

Indeed, the sight-seeing at Blenheim seemed to be a system of half-crowns. The first servant would take them a little way, and then say, ”I don't go any further, sir; half-a-crown!” and hand them over to servant number two, who, after a short interval, would pa.s.s them on (half-a-crown!) to the servant who shewed the chapel (half-a-crown!), who would forward them on to the ”t.i.tian” Gallery (half-a-crown!), who would hand them over to the flower-garden (half-a-crown!),who would entrust them to the rose-garden (half-a-crown!), who would give them up to another, who shewed parts of the Park, and

--- * Dr Waagen says that the Rubens collection at Blenheim is only surpa.s.sed by the royal galleries of Munich, Vienna, Madrid, and Paris.

+ The ladies alone would repel one by their gaunt ugliness, their flesh being apparently composed of the article on which the pictures are painted, leather. The only picture not by ”t.i.tian” in this room is a Rubens, - ”the Rape of Proserpine” - to see which is well worth the half-crown ~charged~ for the sight of the others.

[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 117]

the rest of it. Somewhat in this manner an Oxford party sees Blenheim (the present of the nation); and Mr. Verdant Green found it the most expensive show-place he had ever seen. Some of the Park, however, was free (though they were two or three times ordered to ”get off the gra.s.s”); and they rambled about among the n.o.ble trees, and admired the fine views of the Hall, and smoked their weeds, and became very pathetic at Rosamond's Spring. They then came back into Woodstock, which they found to be like all Oxford towns, only <vg117.jpg> rather duller perhaps, the princ.i.p.al signs of life being some fowls lazily pecking about in the gra.s.s-grown street, and two cats sporting without fear of interruption from a dog, who was too much overcome by the ~ennui~ of the place to interfere with them.

Mr. Bouncer then led the way to an inn, where the bar was presided over by a young lady, ”on whom,” he said, ”he was desperately sweet,”

and with whom he conversed in the most affable and brotherly manner, and for whom also he had brought, as an appropriate present, a Book of Comic Songs; ”for,” said the little gentleman, ”hang it! she's a girl of what you call ~mind~, you know! and she's heard of the opera, and begun the piano, - though she don't get much time, you see, for it in the bar, - and she sings regular slap-up, and no mistake!”

So they left this young lady drawing bitter beer for Mr.

[118 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]

Bouncer, and otherwise attending to her adorer's wants, and endeavoured to have a game of billiards on a wooden table that had no cus.h.i.+ons, with curious cues that had no leathers. Slightly failing in this difficult game, they strolled about till dinner-time, when Mr. Verdant Green became mysteriously lost for some time, and was eventually found by Charles Larkyns and Mr. Fosbrooke in a glover's shop, where he was sitting on a high stool, and basking in the suns.h.i.+ny smiles of two ”neat little glovers.” Our hero at first feigned to be simply making purchases of Woodstock gloves and purses, as ~souvenirs~ of his visit, and presents for his sisters; but in the course of the evening, being greatly ”chaffed” on the subject, he began to exercise his imagination, and talk of the ”great fun” he had had; - though what particular fun there may be in smiling amiably across a counter at a feminine shopkeeper who is selling you gloves, it is hard to say: perhaps Dr. Sterne could help us to an answer.

They spent altogether a very lively day; and after a rather protracted sitting over their wine, they returned to Oxford with great hilarity, Mr. Bouncer's post-horn coming out with great effect in the stillness of the moonlight night. Unfortunately their mirth was somewhat checked when they had got as far as Peyman's Gate; for the proctor, with mistaken kindness, had taken the trouble to meet them there, lest they should escape him by entering Oxford by any devious way; and the marshal and the bull-dogs were at the leader's head just as Mr. Fosbrooke was triumphantly guiding them through the turnpike. Verdant gave up his name and that of his college with a thrill of terror, and nearly fell off the drag from fright, when he was told to call upon the proctor the next morning.

”Keep your p.e.c.k.e.r up, old feller!” said Mr. Bouncer, in an encouraging tone, as they drove into Oxford, ”and don't be down in the mouth about a dirty trick like this. He won't hurt you much, Giglamps! Gate and chapel you; or give you some old Greek party to write out; or send you down to your mammy for a twelve-month; or some little trifle of that sort. I only wish the beggar would come up our staircase! if Huz, and Buz his brother, didn't do their duty by him, it would be doosid odd. Now, don't you go and get bad dreams, Giglamps! because it don't pay; and you'll soon get used to these sort of things; and what's the odds, as long as you're happy? I like to take things coolly, I do.”

To judge from Mr. Bouncer's serenity, and the far-from-nervous manner in which he ”sounded his octaves,” ~he~ at least appeared to be thoroughly used to ”that sort of thing,” and doubtless slept as tranquilly as though nothing wrong had occurred. But it was far different with our hero, who pa.s.sed

[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 119]

a sleepless night of terror as to his probable fate on the morrow.

And when the morrow came, and he found himself in the dreaded presence of the const.i.tuted authority, armed with all the power of the law, he was so overcome, that he fell on his knees and made an abject spectacle of himself, imploring that he might not be expelled, and bring down his father's grey hairs in the usually quoted manner.

To his immense relief, however, he was treated in a more lenient way; and as the term had nearly expired, his punishment could not be of long duration; and as for the impositions, why, as Mr. Bouncer said, ”Ain't there coves to ~barber~ise 'em* for you, Giglamps?”

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