Chapter VI: Preface: , in Imitation of the First Satire of Persius (3)

~72~~
Joe Cannon, or my lord's a gun,{27}
A regular nine pounder;
To man a boat, stands number one,

And ne'er was known to flounder.
There's Foxey Hall{28} can throw the line
With any Walton angler;
To tell his worth would task the Nine,

Or pose a Cambridge wrangler.
Next, Pickey Powell{29} at a ball

Is master of the wicket;
Can well deliver at a call

A trite essay on cricket.
Jem Flowers {30} baits a badger well,

For a bull _hank, or tyke_, sir;
And as an out and out bred _swell_,{31}

Was never seen his like.

27 A GUN--"He's a great gun," a good fellow, a knowing one.
Joe is a first rate waterman, and by the Etonians styled
"Admiral of the fleet."

28 "Not a better fellow than Jack Hall among the Cads," said
an old Etonian, "or a more expert angler." Barb, Gudgeon,
Dace, and Chub, seem to bite at his bidding; and if they
should be a little shy, why Jack knows how to "go to work
with the net."

29 Who, that has been at Eton, and enjoyed the manly and
invigorating exercise of cricket, has not repeatedly heard
Jem Powell in tones of exultation say, "Only see me '_liver
thin here_ ball, my young master?" And, in good truth, Jem
is right, for very few can excel him in that particular: and
then (when Jem is _Bacchi plenis_,) who can withstand his
_quart of sovereigns_. On such occasions Jem is seen
marching up and down before the door of his house, with a
silver quart tankard filled with gold--the savings of many
years of industry.

30 Jem Flowers is an old soldier; and, in marshalling the
forces for a bull or a badger-bait, displays all the tactics
of an experienced general officer. Caleb Baldwin would no
more bear comparison with Jem than a flea does to an
elephant.

31 When it is remembered how near Eton is to London, and how
frequent the communication, it will appear astonishing, but
highly creditable to the authorities, that so little of the
current slang of the day is to be met with here.

~73~~

There's Jolly Jem,{32} who keeps his punt,

And dogs to raise the siller;
Of _cads_, the captain of the hunt,

A right and tight good miller.
Next Barney Groves,{33} a learned wight,

The impounder of cattle,
Dilates on birth and common right,

And threats _black slugs_ with battle.
Big George {34} can teach the use of fives,

Or pick up a prime terrier;
Or _spar_, or keep the game alive,

With beagle, bull, or harrier.
Savager{35} keeps a decent nag,

32 Jem Miller was originally a tailor; but having dropt a
stitch or two in early life, _listed_ into a sporting
regiment of Cads some years since; and being a better shot
at hares and partridges than he was considered at the _heavy
goose_, has been promoted to the rank of captain of the
private tutors. Jem is a true jolly fellow; his house
exhibits a fine picture of what a sportsman's hall should
be, decorated with all the emblems of fishing, fowling, and
hunting, disposed around in great taste.

33 Barney Groves, the haughward, or impounder of stray
cattle at Eton, is one of the most singular characters I
have ever met with. Among the ignorant Barney is looked up
to as the fountain of local and legal information; and it is
highly ludicrous to hear him expatiate on his favourite
theme of "our birthrights and common rights;" tracing the
first from the creation, and deducing argument in favor of
his opinions on the second from doomsday book, through all
the intricate windings of the modern inclosure acts. Barney
is a great stickler for reform in College, and does not
hesitate to attack the fellows of Eton (whom he denominates
black slugs), on holding pluralities, and keeping the good
things to themselves. As Barney's avocation compels him to
travel wide, he is never interrupted by water; for in summer
or winter he readily wades through the deepest places; he is
consequently a very efficient person in a sporting party.

34 George Williams, a well-known dog fancier, who also
teaches the art and science of pugilism.

35 Savager, a livery-stable keeper, who formerly used to
keep a good tandem or two for hire, but on the interference
of the head master, who interdicted such amusements as
dangerous, they have been put down in Eton.

~74~~

But's very shy of lending,
Since she put down her tandem _drag_,{36}

For fear of Keates offending.
But if you want to splash along

In glory with a _ginger_,{37}
Or in a Stanhope come it strong,

Try Isaac Clegg,{38} of Windsor.
If o'er old father Thames you'd glide,

And cut the silvery stream;
With Hester's{39} eight oars mock the tide,

He well deserves a _theme_.
There's Charley Miller, and George Hall,{40}

Can beasts and birds restore, sir;
And though they cannot bark or squall,

Look livelier than before, sir.
Handy Jack's {41} a general blade,

There's none like Garraway, sir;
Boats, ducks, or dogs, are all his trade,

He'll fit you to a say, sir.

36 DR A G, London slang for tilbury, dennet, Stanhope, &c.

37 A GINGER, a showy, fast horse.

38 Isaac Clegg is in great repute for his excellent turn
outs, and prime nags; and, living in Windsor, he is out of
the jurisdiction of the head master.

39 Hester's boats are always kept in excellent trim. At
Eton exercise on the water is much practised, and many of
the scholars are very expert watermen: they have recently
taken to boats of an amazing length, forty feet and upwards,
which, manned with eight oars, move with great celerity.
Every Saturday evening the scholars are permitted to assume
fancy dresses; but the practice is now principally confined
to the steersman; the rest simply adopting sailors' costume,
except on the fourth of June, or election Saturday, when
there is always a grand gala, a band of music, and
fireworks, on the island in the Thames.

40 Miller and Hall, two famous preservers of birds and
animals; an art in high repute among the Etonians.

41 A famous boatman, duck-hunter, dog-fighter; or,
according to the London phrase--good at everything.

~75~~

Tom New {42} in manly sports is old,

A tailor, and a trump, sir;
And _odd Fish Bill_,{43} at sight of gold,

Will steer clear of the bump,"{44} sir.
A list of _worthies_, learn'd and great

In every art and science,
That noble youths should emulate,

To set laws at defiance:
The church, the senate, and the bar,

By these in ethics grounded,
Must prove a meteoric star,

Of brilliancy compounded.
Ye lights of Eton, rising suns,

Of all that's great and godly;
The nation's hope, and dread of _duns_,

Let all your acts be _motley_.
Learn arts like these, ye oppidan,

If you'd astonish greatly
The senate, or the great divan,

With classics pure, and stately.
Give Greek and Latin to the wind,

Bid pedagogues defiance:
These are the rules to grace the mind

With the true gems of science.

42 Tom New, a great cricketer.

43 Bill Fish, a waterman who attends the youngest boys in
their excursions.

44 The BUMP, to run against each other in the race.

~76~~

APOLLO'S VISIT TO ETON.

~76~~ This whimsical production appeared originally in 1819, in an Eton miscellany entitled the College Magazine; the poetry of which was afterwards selected, and only fifty copies struck off: these have been carefully suppressed, principally we believe on account of this article, as it contains nothing that we conceive can be deemed offensive, and has allusions to almost all the distinguished scholars of that period, besides including the principal contributors to the Etonian, a recent popular work: we have with some difficulty filled up the blanks with real names; and, at the suggestion of several old Etonians, incorporated it with the present work, as a fair criterion of the promising character of the school at this particular period.

The practice of thus distinguishing the rising talents of Eton is somewhat ancient. We have before us a copy of verses dated 1620, in which Waller, the poet, and other celebrated characters of his time, are particularised. At a still more recent period, during the mastership of the celebrated Doctor Barnard, the present earl of Carlisle, whose classical taste is universally admitted, distinguished himself not less than his compeers, by some very elegant lines: those on the late Right Hon. C. J. Fox we are induced to extract as a strong proof of the noble earl's early penetration and foresight.

"How will my Fox, alone, by strength of parts.
Shake the loud senate, animate the hearts
Of fearful statesmen? while around you stand
Both Peers and Commons listening your command.

~77~~

While _Tully's_ sense its weight to you affords,
His nervous sweetness shall adorn your words.
What praise to Pitt,{1} to Townshend, e'er was due,
In future times, my Pox, shall wait on you."

At a subsequent period, the leading characters of the school were spiritedly drawn in a periodical newspaper, called the World, then edited by Major Topham, and the Rev. Mr. East, who is still, I believe, living, and preaches occasionally at Whitehall. From that publication, now very scarce, I have selected the following as the most amusing, and relating to distinguished persons.

1 The great Earl of Chatham.

RECOLLECTIONS OF AN OLD ETONIAN.

The Lords Littleton--father and son, formed two opposite characters in their times. The former had a distinguished turn for pastoral poetry, and wrote some things at Eton with all the enthusiasm of early years, and yet with all the judgment of advanced life. The latter showed there, in some traits of disposition, what was to be expected from him; but he too loved the Muses, and cultivated them.

He there too displayed the strange contraries of being an ardent admirer of the virtues of classic times, while he was cheating at chuck and all-fours; and though he affected every species of irreligion, was, in fact, afraid of his own shadow.

The whole North Family have, in succession, adorned this school with their talents--which in the different branches were various, but all of mark and vivacity. To the younger part, Dampier was the tutor; who, having a little disagreement with Frank North on the hundred steps coming down from the terrace, at Windsor, they adjusted it, by Frank North's rolling his tutor very quickly down the whole of them. The tutor has since risen to some eminence in the church.

Lord Cholmondeley was early in life a boy of great parts, and they have continued so ever since, though not lively ones. Earl of Buckingham was a plain good scholar, but ~79~~ would have been better at any other school, for he was no poet, and verse is here one of the first requisites; besides, he had an impediment in his speech, which, in the hurry of repeating a lesson before a number of boys, was always increased. It was inculcated to him by his dame--that he must look upon himself as the reverse of a woman in every thing, and not hold--that whoever "_deliberates is lost_."

Lord Harrington was a boy of much natural spirit. In the great rebellion, under _Forster_, when all the boys threw their books into the Thames, and marched to Salt Hill, he was amongst the foremost. At that place each took an oath, or rather swore, he would be d------d if ever he returned to school again.

When, therefore, he came to London to the old Lord Harrington's, and sent up his name, his father would only speak to him at the door, insisting, at the same time, on his immediate return. "Sir," said the son, "consider I shall be d--d if I do!" "And I" answered the father, "will be d--d if you don't!"

"Yes, my lord," replied the son, "but you will be d--d together I do or no!"

The Storers. Anthony and Tom, for West Indians, were better scholars than usually fell to the share of those _children of the sun_, who were, in general, too gay to be great. The name of the elder stands to this day at the head of many good exercises; from which succeeding genius has stolen, and been praised for it.

Tom had an odd capability of running round a room on the edge of the wainscot, a strange power of holding by the foot: an art which, in lower life, might have been serviceable to him in the showing it. And Anthony, likewise, amongst better and more brilliant qualifications, had the reputation of being amongst the best dancers of the age. In a political line, perhaps, he did not _dance attendance_ to much purpose.

Harry Conway, brother to the present Marquis of ~80~~ Hertford, though younger in point of learning, was older than his brother, Lord Beauchamp; but he was not so forward as to show this preeminence: a somewhat of modesty, a consciousness of being younger, always kept him back from displaying it. In fact, they were perfectly unlike two Irish boys--the Wades, who followed them, and who, because the younger was taller, used to fight about which was the eldest.

Pepys. A name well known for Barnard's commendation of it, and for his exercises in the _Musae Etonenses_. He was amongst the best poets that Eton ever produced.

Kirkshaw, son to the late doctor, of Leeds, and since fellow of Trinity College. When his father would have taken him away, he made a singular request that he might stay a year longer, not wishing to be made a man so early.

Many satiric Latin poems bear his name at Eton, and he continued that turn afterwards at Cambridge. He was remarkable for a very large head; but it should likewise be added, there was a good deal in it.

On this head, his father used to hold forth in the country. He was, without a figure, the head of the school, and was afterwards in the caput at the university.

Wyndham, under Barnard, distinguished himself very early as a scholar, and for a logical acuteness, which does not often fall to the share of a boy. He was distinguished too both by land and by water; for while he was amongst the most informed of his time, in school hours, in the playing fields, on the water, with the celebrated boatman, my guinea piper at cricket, or in rowing, he was always the foremost. He used to boast, that he should in time be as good a boxer as his father was, though he used to add, that never could be exactly known, as he could not decently have a _set-to_ with him.

~81~~ Fawkener, the major, was captain of the school; and in those days was famed for the "_suaviter in modo_," and for a turn for gallantry with the Windsor milliners, which he pursued up the hundred steps, and over the terrace there. As this turn frequently made him overrun the hours of absence, on his return he was found out, and flogged the next morning; but this abated not his zeal in the cause of gallantry, as he held it to be, like _Ovid_, whom he was always reading, suffering in a fair cause.

Fawkener, Everard, minor, with the same turn for pleasure as his brother, but more open and ingenuous in his manner, more unreserved in his behaviour, then manifested, what he has since been, the bon vivant of every society, and was then as since, the admired companion in every party.

Prideaux was remarkable for being the gravest boy of his time, and for having the longest chin. Had he followed the ancient "_Sapientem pascere Barbam_," there would in fact have been no end of it. With this turn, however, his time was not quite thrown away, nor his gravity. In conjunction with Dampier, Langley, and Serjeant, who were styled the learned Cons, he composed a very long English poem, in the same metre as the Bath Guide, and of which it was then held a favour to get a copy. He had so much of advanced life about him, that the masters always looked upon him as a man; and this serious manner followed him through his pastimes. He was fond of billiards; but he was so long in making his stroke, that no boy could bear to play with him: when the game, therefore, went against him, like Fabius-_Cunctando restituit rem_; and they gave it up rather than beat him.

Hulse. Amongst the best tennis-players that Eton ever sent up to Windsor, where he always was. As a poet he distinguished himself greatly, by winning one of the medals given by Sir John Dalrymple. His ~82~~ exercise on this occasion was the subject of much praise to Doctor Forster, then master, and of much envy to his contemporaries in the sixth form, who said it was given to him because he was head boy.

These were his arts; besides which he had as many tricks as any boy ever had. He had nothing when praepositer, and of course ruling under boys, of dignity about him, or of what might enforce his authority. When he ought to have been angry, some monkey trick always came across him, and he would make a serious complaint against a little boy, in a hop, step, and a jump.

Montague. Having a great predecessor before him under the appellation of "_Mad Montague_" had always a consolatory comparison in this way in his favor. In truth, at times he wanted it, for he was what has been termed a genius: but he was likewise so in talent. He was an admirable poet, and had a neatness of expression seldom discoverable at such early years. In proof, may be brought a line from a Latin poem on Cricket:

"_Clavigeri fallit verbera--virga cadit_."

And another on scraping a man down at the _Robin Hood_:

"_Radit arenosam pes inimicus humum_."

The scratching of the foot on the sandy floor is admirable.

During a vacation, Lord Sandwich took him to Holland; and he sported on his return a Dutch-built coat for many weeks. The boys used to call him _Mynheer Montague_; but his common habit of oddity soon got the better of his coat.

He rose to be a young man of great promise, as to abilities; and died too immaturely for his fame.

Tickell, the elder. _Manu magis quam capite_ should have been his motto. By natural instinct he loved ~83~~ fighting, and knew not what fear was. He went amongst his school-fellows by the name of Hannibal, and Old Tough. A brother school-fellow of his, no less a man than the Marquis of Buckingham, met, and recognised him again in Ireland, and with the most marked solicitude of friendship, did every thing but assist him, in obtaining a troop of dragoons, which he had much at heart.

Tickell, minor, should then have had the eulogy of how much elder art thou than thy years! In those early days his exercises, read publicly in school, gave the anticipation of what time and advancing years have brought forth. He was an admirable scholar, and a poet from nature; forcible, neat, and discriminating. The fame of his grandsire, the Tickell of Addison, was not hurt by the descent to him.

His sister, who was the beauty of Windsor castle, and the admiration of all, early excited a passion in a boy then at school, who afterwards married her. Of this sister he was very fond; but he was not less so of another female at Windsor, a regard since terminated in a better way with his present wife.

His pamphlet of _Anticipation_, it is said, placed him where he since was, under the auspices of Lord North; but his abilities were of better quality, and deserved a better situation for their employment.

Lord Plymouth, then Lord Windsor, had to boast some distinctions, which kept him aloof from the boys of his time. He was of that inordinate size that, like Falstaff, four square yards on even ground were so many miles to him; and the struggles which he underwent to raise himself when down might have been matter of instruction to a minority member. In the entrance to his Dame's gate much circumspection was necessary; for, like some good men out of power, he found it difficult to get in.

When in school, or otherwise, he was not undeserving of praise, either as to temper or ~84~~ scholarship; and whether out of the excellence of his Christianity, or that of good humour, he was not very adverse to good living; and he continued so ever after.

Lord Leicester had the reputation of good scholarship, and not undeservedly. In regard to poetry, however, he was sometimes apt to break the eighth commandment, and prove lie read more the Musee Etonenses than his prayer-book. Inheriting it from Lord Townshend, the father of caricaturists, he there pursued, with nearly equal ability, that turn for satiric drawing. The master, the tutors, slender Prior, and fat Roberts,--all felt in rotation the effects of his pencil.

There too, as well as since, he had a most venerable affection for heraldry, and the same love of collecting together old titles, and obsolete mottos. Once in the military, he had, it may be said, a turn for arms. In a zeal of this kind he once got over the natural mildness of his temper, and was heard to exclaim--"There are two griffins in my family that have been missing these three centuries, and by G-, I'll have iliem back again!"-This passion was afterwards improved into so perfect a knowledge, that in the creation of peers he was applied to, that every due ceremonial might be observed; and he never failed in his recollection on these antiquated subjects.

Tom Plummer gave then a specimen of that quickness and vivacity of parts for which he was afterwards famed. But not as a scholar, not as a poet, was he quick alone; he was quick too in the wrong ends of things, as well as the right, with a plausible account to follow it.

In fact, he was born for the law; clear, discriminating, judicious, alive, and with a noble impartiality to all sides of questions, and which none could defend better. This goes, however, only to the powers of his head; in those of the heart no one, and in the best ~85~~ and tenderest qualities of it, ever stood better. He was liked universally, and should be so; for no man was ever more meritorious for being good, as he who had all the abilities which sometimes make a man otherwise.

In the progress of life mind changes often, and body almost always. Both these rules, however, he lived to contradict; for his talents and his qualities retained their virtue; and when a boy he was as tall as when a man, and apparently the same.

Capel Loft. In the language of Eton the word gig comprehended all that was ridiculous, all that was to be laughed at, and plagued to death; and of all gigs that was, or ever will be, this gentleman, while a boy, was the greatest.

He was like nothing, "in the heavens above, or the waters under the earth;" and therefore he was surrounded by a mob of boys whenever he appeared. These days of popularity were not pleasant. Luckily, however, for himself, he found some refuge from persecution in his scholarship. This scholarship was much above the rate, and out of the manner of common boys.

As a poet, he possessed fluency and facility, but not the strongest imagination. As a classic, he was admirable; and his prose themes upon different subjects displayed an acquaintance with the Latin idiom and phraseology seldom acquired even by scholastic life, and the practice of later years. Beyond this, he read much of everything that appeared, knew every thing, and was acquainted with every better publication of the times.

Even then he studied law, politics, divinity; and could have written well upon those subjects.

These talents have served him since more effectually than they did then; more as man than boy:

For at school he was a kind of Gray Beard: he neither ran, played, jumped, swam, or fought, as ~86~~ other boys do. The descriptions of puerile years, so beautifully given by _Gray_, in his ode:

"Who, foremost, now delight to cleave,
With pliant arm, thy glassy wave?
The captive linnet which enthrall?
What idle progeny succeed,
To chase the rolling circle's speed,
Or urge the flying ball?"

All these would have been, and were, as non-descriptive of him as they would have been of the lord chancellor of England, with a dark brow and commanding mien, determining a cause of the first interest to this country. Added to this, in personal appearance he was most unfavored; and exemplified the Irish definition of an open countenance--a mouth from ear to ear.

Lord Hinchinbroke, from the earliest period of infancy, had all the marks of the Montagu family. He had a good head, and a red head, and a Roman nose, and a turn to the _ars amatoria_ of Ovid, and all the writers who may have written on love. As it was in the beginning--may be said now.

Though in point of scholarship he was not in the very first line, the descendant of Lord Sandwich could not but have ability, and he had it; but this was so mixed with the wanderings of the heart, the vivacity of youthful imagination, and a turn to pleasure, that a steady pursuit of any one object of a literary turn could not be expected.

But it was his praise that he went far in a short time; sometimes too far; for Barnard had to exercise himself, and his red right arm, as the vengeful poet expresses it, very frequently on the latter end of his lordship's excursions.

In one of these excursions to Windsor, he had the good or ill fortune to engage in a little amorous amement with a young lady, the consequence of ~87~~ which was an application to Lucina for assistance. Of this doctor Barnard was informed, and though the remedy did not seem tending towards a cure, he was brought up immediately to be flogged.

He bore this better than his master, who cried out, after some few lashes--"Psha! what signifies my flogging him for being like his father? What's bred in the bone will never get out of the flesh."

Gibbs. Some men are overtaken by the law, and some few overtake it themselves. In this small, but happy number, may be placed the name in question; and a name of better promise, whether of man or boy, can scarcely be found any where.

At school he was on the foundation; and though amongst the Collegers, where the views of future life, and hope of better days, arising from their own industry, make learning a necessity, yet to that he added the better qualities of genius and talent.

As a classical scholar, he was admirable in both languages. As a poet, he was natural, ready, and yet distinguished. Amongst the best exercises of the time, his were to be reckoned, and are yet remembered with praise. For the medals given by Sir John Dalrymple for the best Latin poem, he was a candidate; but though his production was publicly read by doctor Forster, and well spoken of, he was obliged to give way to the superiority of another on that occasion.

Describing the winding of the Thames through its banks, it had this beautiful line:

"_Rodit arundineas facili sinuamine ripas------_"

Perfect as to the picture, and beautiful as to the flowing of the poetry.

He had the good fortune and the good temper to be liked by every body of his own age; and he was not enough found out of bounds, or trespassing against "sacred order," to be disliked by those of greater age who were set over him.

~88~~ After passing through all the different forms at Eton, he was removed to Cambridge; where he distinguished himself not less than at school in trials for different literary honors.

There he became assistant tutor to Sir Peter Burrell, who then listened to his instructions, and has not since forgotten them.

As a tutor, he was somewhat young; but the suavity of his manners took away the comparison of equality; and his real knowledge rendered him capable of instructing those who might be even older than himself.

APOLLO'S VISIT TO ETON.{1}

T'other night, as Apollo was quaffing a gill
With his pupils, the Muses, from Helicon's rill,
(For all circles of rank in Parnassus agree
In preferring cold water to coffee or tea)
The discourse turned as usual on critical matters,
And the last stirring news from the kingdom of letters.
But when poets, and critics, and wits, and what not,
From Jeffery and Byron, to Stoddart and Stott,{2}
Had received their due portion of consideration,
Cried Apollo, "Pray, ladies, how goes education?
For I own my poor brain's been so muddled of late,
In transacting the greater affairs of the state;
And so long every day in the courts I've been stewing,
I've had no time to think what the children were doing.
There's my favorite Byron my presence inviting,
And Milman, and Coleridge, and Moore, have been writing;
And my ears at this moment confoundedly tingle,
From the squabbling of Blackwood with Cleghorn and Pringle:
But as all their disputes seem at length at an end,
And the poets my levee have ceased to attend;
Since the weather's improving, and lengthen'd the days,
For a visit to Eton I'll order my chaise:

1 This poem, the reader will perceive, is an humble
imitation of Leigh Hunt's "Feast of the Poets;" and the
lines distinguished by asterisks are borrowed or altered
from the original.

2 A writer in "The Morning Post," mentioned by Lord Byron,
in his "English Bards and Scotch Reviewers."

~90~~

There's my sister Diana my day coach to drive,
And I'll send the new Canto to keep you alive.
So my business all settled, and absence supply'd,
For an earthly excursion to-morrow I'll ride."
Thus spoke king Apollo; the Muses assented;
And the god went to bed most bepraised and contented.
'Twas on Saturday morning, near half past eleven,
When a god, like a devil,4 came driving from heaven,
And with postboys, and footmen, and liveries blazing,
Soon set half the country a gaping and gazing.
When the carriage drove into the Christopher yard,
How the waiters all bustled, and Garraway stared;
And the hostlers and boot-catchers wonder'd, and swore
"They'd ne'er seen such a start in their lifetime before!"
I could tell how, as soon as his chariot drew nigh,
Every cloud disappear'd from the face of the sky;
And the birds in the hedges more tunefully sung,
And the bells in St. George's spontaneously rung;
And the people, all seized with divine inspiration,
Couldn't talk without rhyming and versification.
But such matters, though vastly important, I ween,
Are too long for the limits of your magazine.

Now it soon got abroad that Apollo was come,
And intended to be, for that evening, "at home;"
And that cards would be issued, and tickets be given,
To all scholars and wits, for a dinner at seven.
So he'd scarcely sat clown, when a legion came pouring
Of would-be-thought scholars, his favor imploring.
First, Buller stept in, with a lengthy oration
About "scandalous usage," and "hard situation:"
And such treatment as never, since Eton was started,

~91~~

Had been shown to a genius, like him, "broken-hearted."
He'd " no doubt but his friends in Parnassus must know
How his fine declamation was laugh'd at below;
And how Keate, like a blockhead ungifted with brains,
Had neglected to grant him a prize for his pains.
He was sure, if such conduct continued much longer,
The school must grow weaker, and indolence stronger;
That the rights of sixth form would be laid in the dust,
And the school after that, he thought, tumble it must.
But he knew that Apollo was learned and wise,
And he hoped that his godship would give him a prize;
Or, at least, to make up for his mortification,
Would invite him to dinner without hesitation."
Now Apollo, it seems, had some little pretence
To a trifling proportion of wisdom and sense:
So without ever asking the spark to be seated,
He thus cut short his hopes, and his projects defeated.
"After all, Mr. Buller, you've deign'd to repeat,
I'm afraid that you'll think me as stupid as Keate:
But to wave all disputes on your talents and knowledge,
Pray what have you done as the captain of college?
Have you patronized learning, or sapping commended?
Have you e'er to your fags, or their studies, attended?
To the school have you given of merit a sample,
And directed by precept, or led by example?"

*****

What Apollo said more I'm forbidden to say,
But Buller dined not at his table that day.
Next, a smart little gentleman march'd with a stare up,
A smoothing his neckcloth, and patting his hair up;
And with bows and grimaces quadrillers might follow,
Said, " he own'd that his face was unknown to Apollo;

~92~~

But he held in hand what must be his apology,
A short treatise he'd written on _British Geology_;
And this journal, he hoped, of his studies last week,
In philosophy, chemistry, logic, and Greek,
Might appear on perusal: but not to go far
In proclaiming his merits--his name was Tom Carr:
And for proofs of his talents, deserts, and what not,
He appeal'd to Miss Baillie, Lord Byron, and Scott."
Here his speech was cut short by a hubbub below,
And in walk'd Messrs. Maturin, Cookesly, and Co.,
And begg'd leave to present to his majesty's finger--
If he'd please to accept--No. 5 of the Linger.{5}
Mr. Maturin "hoped he the columns would view
With unprejudiced judgment, and give them their due,
Nor believe all the lies, which perhaps he had seen,
In that vile publication, that base magazine,{6}
Which had dared to impeach his most chaste lucubrations,
Of obscenity, nonsense, and such accusations.
Nay, that impudent work had asserted downright,
That chalk differ'd from cheese, and that black wasn't white;
But he hoped he might meet with his majesty's favor;"
And thus, hemming and hawing, he closed his palaver.

Now the god condescended to look at the papers,
But the first word he found in them gave him the vapours:
For the eyes of Apollo, ye gods! 'twas a word
Quite unfit to be written, and more to be heard;
'Twas a word which a bargeman would tremble to utter,
And it put his poor majesty all in a flutter;
But collecting his courage, his laurels he shook,
And around on the company cast such a look,
That e'en Turin and Dumpling slank off to the door,
And the Lion was far too much frighten'd to roar;

5 An Eton periodical of the time.

6 The College Magazine.

~93~~

While poor Carr was attack'd with such qualms at the breast,
That he took up his journal, and fled with the rest.

When the tumult subsided, and peace 'gan to follow,
Goddard enter'd the room, with three cards for Apollo,
And some papers which, hardly five minutes before,
Three respectable gownsmen had left at the door.
With a smile of good humour the god look'd at each,
For he found that they came from Blunt, Chapman, and Neech.{7}
Blunt sent him a treatise of science profound,
Showing how rotten eggs were distinguish'd from sound;
Some "Remarks on Debates," and some long-winded stories,
Of society Whigs, and society Tories;
And six sheets and a half of a sage dissertation,
On the present most wicked and dull generation.
From Chapman came lectures on Monk, and on piety;
On Simeon, and learning, and plays, and sobriety;
With most clear illustrations, and critical notes,
On his own right exclusive of canvassing votes.
From Neech came a medley of prose and of rhyme,
Satires, epigrams, sonnets, and sermons sublime;
But he'd chosen all customs and rules to reverse,
For his satires were prose, and las sermons were verse.
Phoebus look'd at the papers, commended all three,
And sent word he'd be happy to see them to tea.

The affairs of the morning thus happily o'er,
Phoebus pull'd from his pocket twelve tickets or more,
Which the waiters were ordered forthwith to disperse
'Mongst the most approved scribblers in prose and in verse:
'Mongst the gentlemen honor'd with cards, let me see,
There was Howard, and Coleridge, and Wood, and Lavie,
The society's props; Curzon, major and minor,

7 Principal contributors to the Etonian.

~94~~

Bowen, Hennicker, Webbe, were invited to dinner:
The theologist Buxton, and Petit, were seen,
And philosopher Jenyns, and Donald Maclean;
Bulteel too, and Dykes; but it happen'd (oh shame!)
That, though many were ask'd, very few of them came.
As for Coleridge, he "knew not what right Phobus had,
d--n me, To set up for a judge in a christian academy;
And he'd not condescend to submit his Latinity,
Nor his verses, nor Greek, to a heathen divinity.
For his part, he should think his advice an affront,
Full as bad as the libels of Chapman and Blunt.
He'd no doubt but his dinner might be very good,
But he'd not go and taste it--be d--d if he would."

Dean fear'd that his pupils their minds should defile,
And Maclean was engaged to the duke of Argyll;
In a deep fit of lethargy Petit had sunk,
And theologist Buxton with _Bishop_ was drunk;
Bulteel too, and Dykes, much against their own will,
Had been both pre-engaged to a party to mill;
And philosopher Jenyns was bent on his knees,
To electrify spiders, and galvanize fleas.
But the rest all accepted the god's invitation,
And made haste to prepare for this jollification.

Now the dinner was handsome as dinner could be,
But to tell every dish is too tedious for me;
Such a task, at the best, would be irksome and long,
And, besides, I must haste to the end of my song.
'Tis enough to relate that, the better to dine,
Jove sent them some nectar, and Bacchus some wine.
From Minerva came olives to crown the dessert,
And from Helicon water was sent most alert,
Of which Howard, 'tis said, drank so long and so deep,
That he almost fell into poetical sleep.{8}

When the cloth was removed, and the bottle went round,

"Nec fonte labra prolui C'aballino,
Nec in bicipiti sommasse Parnasso."
Persius.

~95~~

Wit, glee, and good humour, began to abound,
Though Lord Chesterfield would not have call'd them polite,
For they all often burst into laughter outright.

*****

But swift flew the moments of rapture and glee,
And too early, alas! they were summon'd to tea.
With looks most demure, each prepared with a speech,
At the table were seated Blunt, Chapman, and Neech.
Phobus stopt their orations, with dignity free,
And with easy politeness shook hands with all three;
And the party proceeded, increased to a host,
To discuss bread and butter, tea, coffee, and toast.
As their numbers grew larger, more loud grew their mirth,
And Apollo from heav'n drew its raptures to earth:
With divine inspiration he kindled each mind,
Till their wit, like their sugar, grew double refined;
And an evening, enliven'd by conviviality,
Proved how much they were pleased by the god's hospitality.

Thalia.{9}

9 This poem is attributed to J. Moultrie, Esq. of Trinity
college, Cambridge.

ETON MONTEM.

Stand by, old Cant, while I admire
The young and gay, with souls of fire,
Unloose the cheerful heart.
Hence with thy puritanic zeal;
True virtue is to grant and feel--
A bliss thou'lt ne'er impart.

I love thee, Montem,--love thee, by all the brightest recollections of my youth, for the inspiring pleasures which thy triennial pageant revives in my heart: joined with thy merry throng, I can forget the cares and disappointments of the world; and, tripping gaily with the light-hearted, youthful band, cast off the gloom of envy and of worldly pursuit, reassociating myself with the joyous scenes of my boyhood. Nay, more, I hold thee in higher veneration than ever did antiquarian worship the relics of _virtu_.

~97~~

Destruction light upon the impious hand that would abridge thy ancient charter;--be all thy children, father Etona, doubly-armed to defend thy ancient honors;--let no modern Goth presume to violate thy sacred rights; but to the end of time may future generations retain the spirit of thy present race; and often as the happy period comes, new pleasures wait upon the Eton Montem.{1}

1 The ancient custom, celebrated at Eton every third year,
on Whit-Tuesday, and which bears the title of The Montem,
appears to have defied antiquarian research, as far as
relates to its original institution. It consiste of a
procession to a small tumulus on the southern side of the
Bath road, which has given the name of Salt-Hill to the
spot, now better known by the splendid inns that are
established there. The chief object of this celebration,
however, is to collect money for salt, according to the
language of the day, from all persons who assemble to see
the show, nor does it fail to be exacted from travellers on
the road, and even at the private residences within a
certain, but no inconsiderable, range of the spot. The
scholars appointed to collect the money are called _salt-
bearers_; they are arrayed in fancy dresses, and are
attended by others called scouts, of a similar, but less
showy appearance. Tickets are given to such persons as have
paid their contributions, to secure them from any further
demand. This ceremony is always very numerously attended by
Etonians, and has frequently been honored with the presence
of his late Majesty, and the different branches of the Royal
Family. The sum collected on the occasion has sometimes
exceeded 800L., and is given to the senior scholar, who is
called Captain of the School. This procession appears to be
coeval with the foundation; and it is the opinion of Mr.
Lysons, that it was a ceremonial of the Bairn, or Boy-
Bishop. He states, that it originally took place on the 6th
of December, the festival of St. Nicholas, the patron of
children; being the day on which it was customary at
Salisbury, and in other places where the ceremony was
observed, to elect the Boy-Bishop from among the children
belonging to the cathedral. This mock dignity lasted till
Innocents' day; and, during the intermediate time, the boy
performed various episcopal functions. If it happened that
he died before the allotted period of this extraordinary
mummery had expired, he was buried with all the ceremonials
which were used at the funerals of prelates. In the
voluminous collections relating to antiquities, bequeathed
by Mr. Cole, who was himself of Eton and King's colleges, to
the British Museum, is a note which

~98~~

mentions that the ceremony of the Bairn or Boy-Bishop was to
be observed by charter, and that Geoffry Blythe, Bishop of
Lichfield, who died in 1530, bequeathed several ornaments
to those colleges, for the dress of the bairn-bishop. But on
what authority this industrious antiquary gives the
information, which, if correct, would put an end to all
doubt on the subject, does not appear. But, after all, why
may not this custom be supposed to have originated in a
procession to perform an annual mass at the altar of some
saint, to whom a small chapel might have been dedicated on
the mount called Salt-Hill; a ceremony very common in
Catholic countries, as such an altar is a frequent appendage
to their towns and populous villages? As for the selling of
salt, it may be considered as a natural accompaniment, when
its emblematical character, as to its use in the ceremonies
of the Roman Church, is contemplated. Till the time of
Doctor Barnard, the procession of the Montem was every two
years, and on the first or second Tuesday in February. It
consisted of something of a military array. The boys in the
remove, fourth, and inferior forms, marched in a long file
of two and two, with white poles in their hands, while the
sixth and fifth form boys walked on their flanks as
officers, and habited in all the variety of dress, each of
them having a boy of the inferior forms, smartly equipped,
attending on him as a footman. The second boy in the school
led the procession in a military dress, with a truncheon in
his hand, and bore for the day the title of Marshal: then
followed the Captain, supported by his Chaplain, the head
scholar of the fifth form, dressed in a suit of black, with
a large bushy wig, and a broad beaver decorated with a
twisted silk hatband and rose, the fashionable distinction
of the dignified clergy of that day. It was his office to
read certain Latin prayers on the mount at Salt-Hill The
third boy of the school brought up the rear as Lieutenant.
One of the higher classes, whose qualification was his
activity, was chosen Ensign, and carried the colours, which
were emblazoned with the college arms, and the motto, _Pro
mort el monte_. This flag, before the procession left the
college, he flourished in the school-yard with all the
dexterity displayed at Astley's and places of similar
exhibition. The same ceremony was repeated after prayers, on
the mount. The regiment dined in the inns at Salt-Hill, and
then returned to the college; and its dismission in the
school-yard was announced by the universal drawing of all
the swords. Those who bore the title of commissioned
officers were exclusively on the foundation, and carried
spontoons; the rest were considered as Serjeants and
corporals, and a most curious assemblage of figures they
exhibited. The two principal salt-bearers consisted of an
oppidan and a colleger: the former was generally some
nobleman, whose figure and personal connexions might advance
the interests of the collections. They were dressed like
running footmen, and carried, each of them, a silk bag to
receive the contributions, in which was a small quantity of
salt. During Doctor Barnard's mastership, the ceremony was
made triennial, the time changed from February to Whit-
Tuesday, and several of its absurdities retrenched. An
ancient and savage custom of hunting a ram by the foundation
scholars, on Saturday in the election week, was abolished in
the earlier part of the last century. The curious twisted
clubs with which these collegiate hunters were armed on the
occasion are still to be seen in antiquarian collections.

~99~~

What coronation, tournament, or courtly pageant, can outshine thy splendid innocence and delightful gaiety? what regal banquet yields half the pure enjoyment the sons of old Etona experience, when, after months of busy preparation, the happy morn arrives ushered in with the inspiring notes of "_Auld lang syne_" from the well-chosen band in the college breakfast-room? Then, too, the crowds of admiring spectators, the angel host of captivating beauties with their starry orbs of light, and luxuriant tresses, curling in playful elegance around a face beaming with divinity, or falling in admired negligence over bosoms of alabastrine whiteness and unspotted purity within! Grey-bearded wisdom and the peerless great, the stars of honor in the field and state, the pulpit and the bar, send forth their brightest ornaments to grace Etona's holiday. Oxford and Cambridge, too, lend their classic aid, and many a grateful son of _Alma Mater_ returns to acknowledge his obligations to his early tutors and swell the number of the mirthful host. Here may be seen, concentrated in the quadrangle, the costume of every nation, in all the gay variety that fancy can devise: the Persian spangled robe, and the embroidered Greek vest; the graceful Spanish, and the picturesque Italian, the Roman toga and the tunic, and the rich old English suit. Pages in red frocks, and marshals in their satin 100~~ doublets; white wands and splendid turbans, plumes, and velvet hats, all hastening with a ready zeal to obey the call of the muster-roll. The captain with his retinue retires to pay his court to the provost; while, in the doctor's study, may be seen, gathered around the dignitary, a few of those great names who honor Eton and owe their honor to her classic tutors. Twelve o'clock strikes, and the procession is now marshalled in the quadrangle in sight of the privileged circle, princes, dukes, peers, and doctors with their ladies. Here does the ensign first display his skill in public, and the Montem banner is flourished in horizontal revolutions about the head and waist with every grace of elegance and ease which the result of three months' practice and no little strength can accomplish.

Twelve o'clock strikes, and the procession moves forward to the playing fields on its route to Salt-Hill. Now look the venerable spires and antique towers of Eton like to some chieftain's baronial castle in the feudal times, and the proud captain represents the hero marching forth at the head of his parti-coloured vassals!

The gallant display of rank and fashion and beauty follow in their splendid equipages by slow progressive movement, like the delightful lingering, inch by inch approach to St. James's palace on a full court-day. The place itself is calculated to impress the mind with sentiments of veneration and of heart-moving reminiscences; seated in the bosom of one of the richest landscapes in the kingdom, where on the height majestic Windsor lifts its royal brow; calmly magnificent, over-looking, from his round tower, the surrounding country, and waving his kingly banner in the air: 'tis the high court of English chivalry, the birth-place, the residence, and the mausoleum of her kings, and "i' the olden time," the prison of her captured monarchs. "At once, the sovereign's and ~101~~ the muses' seat," rich beyond almost any other district in palaces, and fanes, and villas, in all the "pomp of patriarchal forests," and gently-swelling hills, and noble streams, and waving harvests; there Denham wrote, and Pope breathed the soft note of pastoral inspiration; and there too the immortal bard of Avon chose the scene in which to wind the snares of love around his fat-encumbered knight. Who can visit the spot without thinking of Datchet mead and the buck-basket of sweet Anne Page and Master Slender, and mine host of the Garter, and all the rest of that merry, intriguing crew? And now having reached the foot of the mount and old druidical barrow, the flag is again waved amid the cheers of the surrounding thousands who line its sides, and in their carriages environ its ancient base.{2} Now the salt-bearers and the pages bank their collections in one common stock, and the juvenile band partake of the captain's banquet, and drink success to his future prospects in Botham's port. Then, too, old Herbertus Stockhore--he must not be forgotten; I have already introduced him to your notice in p. 59, and my friend Bob Transit has illustrated the sketch with his portrait; yet here he demands notice in his official character, and perhaps I cannot do better than quote the humorous account given of him by the elegant pen of an old Etonian {3}

"Who is that buffoon that travesties the travesty? Who is that old cripple alighted from his donkey-cart, who dispenses doggrel and grimaces in all the glory of plush and printed calico?"

"That, my most noble cynic, is a prodigious personage. Shall birth-days and coronations be recorded in immortal odes, and Montem not have its minstrel 1 He, sir, is Herbertus Stockhore; who first called upon his muse in the good old days of Paul Whitehead,--

2 See plate of the Montem, sketched on the spot.

3 See Knight's Quarterly Magazine, No. II.

~102~~ run a race with Pye through all the sublimities of lyres and fires,--and is now hobbling to his grave, after having sung fourteen Montems, the only existing example of a legitimate laureate.

"He ascended his heaven of invention, before the vulgar arts of reading and writing, which are banishing all poetry from the world, could clip his wings. He was an adventurous soldier in his boyhood; but, having addicted himself to matrimony and the muses, settled as a bricklayer's labourer at Windsor. His meditations on the house-tops soon grew into form and substance; and, about the year 1780, he aspired, with all the impudence of Shad well, and a little of the pride of Petrarch, to the laurel-crown of Eton. From that day he has worn his honors on his 'Cibberian forehead' without a rival."

"And what is his style of composition?"

"Vastly naive and original;--though the character of the age is sometimes impressed upon his productions. For the first three odes, ere the school of Pope was extinct, he was a compiler of regular couplets such as--

'Ye dames of honor and lords of high renown,
Who come to visit us at Eton town.'"

During the next nine years, when the remembrance of Collins and Gray was working a glorious change in the popular mind, he ascended to Pindarics, and closed his lyrics with some such pious invocation as this:--

'And now we'll sing
God save the king,

And send him long to reign,
That he may come
To have some fun
At Montem once again. '

During the first twelve years of the present century, the influence of the Lake school was visible in his ~103~~ productions. In my great work I shall give an elaborate dissertation on his imitations of the high-priests of that worship; but I must now content myself with a single illustration:--