Part 5 (1/2)
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 refres.h.i.+ng 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!