Three sisters, famed for various parts, One clerks, and one makes savoury tarts; While t'other, bless her dinner face, Cuts up the viands with a grace, Advanced, and met a cheerful greeting From all who glorify good eating.

MRS. W. H****R.

With a smile, _a la confident_, came Mrs. H, Whose Domine writing to Eton's sons teach: In college, the handiest man you can find For improvements of all sorts, both building and mind: He seem'd on good terms with himself, but the Muse Said, "the Dame claim'd a welcome which none could refuse."

DAME A****S.

Dame A****s, respected by all, made her way Through the throng that a.s.sembled at Eton that day.

Old Chronos had wrinkled her forehead, 'tis true; Yet her countenance beam'd in a rich, mellow hue Of good humour and worth; 'twas a pleasure to mark How the dame was applauded by each Eton spark.

~48~~

MISS b*******K.

Long and loud were the plaudits the lady to cheer, Whom the doctor had treated somewhat cavalier: "Too young," said the ancient, "the proverb is trite; Age and wisdom, good doctor, not always unite."

"For prudence and worth," said Truth, "I'll be bound She may challenge the Dames of old Eton around."

A crowd pressing forward, the day growing late, Truth whisper'd the Muse, "we had better retreat; For though 'mong the dames we are free from disasters, I know not how well we may fare with the masters.

There's Carter, and Yonge, Knapp, Green, and Dupuis,*

All coming this way with their ladies, I see.

Our visit, you know, was alone to the belles; The masters may sing, if they please, of themselves.

Truth mounted a cloud, and the Poet his nag, And these whims sent next day by the post-office bag.

* Lower, and a.s.sistant masters, who keep boarding-houses.

Until lately this practice was not permitted; but it must be confessed that it is a salutary arrangement, as it not only tends to keep the youth in a better state of subjection, but in many instances is calculated to increase their progress in study, by enabling them to receive private instruction.

[Ill.u.s.tration: page048

[Ill.u.s.tration: page049]

~50~~

ELECTION SAt.u.r.dAY.

A Peep at the Long Chambers--The Banquet--Reflections on parting--Arrival of the Provost of King's College, Cambridge, and the Pozers--The Captain's Oration--Busy Monday--The Oppidan's Farewell--Examination and Election of the Collegers who stand for King's--The aquatic Gala and Fireworks--Oxonian Visitors--Night--Rambles in Eton-- Transformations of Signs and Names--The Feast at the Christopher, with a View of THE OPPIDAN'S MUSEUM, AND ETON COURT OF CLAIMS.

Now from the schools pour forth a num'rous train, Light-hearted, buoyant as the summer breeze, To deck thy bosom, Eton: now each face Antic.i.p.ation brightens with delight, While many a fancied bliss floats gaily O'er the ardent mind, chaste as the Nautilus, Spreading her pearly spangles to the sun: The joyous welcome of parental love, The heart-inspiring kiss a sister yields, A brother's greeting, and the cheering smiles Of relatives and friends, and aged domestics, Time-honor'd for their probity and zeal, Whose silvery locks recall to mem'ry's view Some playful scene of earliest childhood, When frolic, mirth, and gambol led the way, Ere reason gave sobriety of thought.- Now bear the busy _Cads_ the new-lopt bough Of beech-tree to the dormitories, While active Collegers the foliage raise Against the chamber walls. A cla.s.sic grove Springs as by magic art, cool and refreshing, A luxury by nature's self supply'd, Delicious shelter from the dog-star's ray.

In thought profound the studious _s.e.xtile_ mark In learned converse with some ancient sage, Whose aid he seeks to meet the dread Provost.

The captain fearless seeks the ancient stand, Where old Etona's sons, beneath time's altar-piece,*

Have immemorial welcomed _Granta's_ chief.

In College-hall the merry cook prepares The choicest viands for the master's banquet: A graceful, healthy throng surround the board, And temp'rance, love, and harmony, prevail.

Now busy dames are in high bustle caught, Preparing for each oppidan's departure; And servants, like wing'd Mercury, must fly O'er Windsor bridge to hail the London coach.

Adieus on ev'ry side, farewell, farewell, Rings in each pa.s.sing ear; yet, nor regret Nor sorrow marks the face, but all elate With cheerful tongue and brighten'd eye, unite To hail with joy Etona's holiday.

Now comes the trial of who stands for King's, Examinations difficult and deep The Provost and his pozers to o'ercome.

To this succeeds the grand aquatic gala, A spectacle of most imposing import, Where, robed in every costume of the world, The gay youth direct the glittering prow; A fleet of well-trimm'd barks upon the bosom Of old father Thames, glide on to pleasure's note:

~51~~

The expert victors are received with cheers, And the dark canopy of night's illumin'd With a grand display of brilliant fires.

* Shortly after the arrival of the Provost, he proceeds through the cloisters, where he is met by the captain, or head boy of the school, who speaks a long Latin oration before him, standing under the clock.

To an old Etonian the last week in July brings with it recollections of delight that time and circ.u.mstances can never wholly efface. If, beneath the broad umbrage of the refreshing grove, he seeks relief from care and sultry heat, memory recalls to his imagination the scenes of his boyhood, the ever pleasing recollections of infancy, when he reclined upon the flowery bosom of old father Thames, or sought amus.e.m.e.nt in the healthful exercise of bathing, or calmly listened to the murmuring ripple of the waters, or joined the merry group in gently plying of the splashing oar. With what eager delight are these reminiscences of youth dwelt on! With what mingled sensations of hope, fear, and regret, do we revert to the happy period of life when, like the favorite flower of the month, our minds and actions rivalled the lily in her purity! Who, that has ever tasted of the inspiring delight which springs from a.s.sociations of scholastic friendships and amus.e.m.e.nts, but would eagerly quit the bustle of the great world to indulge in the enjoyment of the pure and unalloyed felicity which is yet to be found among the alumni of Eton?--Election Sat.u.r.day--the very sound reverberates the echo of pleasure, and in a moment places me (in imagination) in the centre of the long chambers of Eton, walking beneath the grateful foliage of the beech-tree, with which those dormitories are always decorated previous to election Sat.u.r.day. I can almost fancy that I hear the rattle of the carriage wheels, and see the four horses smoking beneath the lodge-window of Eton college, that conveys the provost of King's to attend examination and election. Then too I can figure the cla.s.sic band who wait to ~52~~ receive him; the dignified little doctor leading the way, followed by the steady, calm-visaged lower master, Carter; then comes benedict Yonge, and after him a s.p.a.ce intervenes, where one should have been of rare qualities, but he is absent; then follows good-humoured Heath, and Knapp, who loves the rattle of a coach, and pleasant, clever Hawtry, and careful Okes, and that shrewd sapper, Green, followed by medium Dupuis, and the intelligent Chapman: these form his cla.s.sic escort to the cloisters. But who shall paint the captain's envied feelings, the proud triumph of his a.s.siduity and skill? To him the honourable office of public orator is a.s.signed; with modest reverence he speaks the Latin oration, standing, as is the custom from time immemorial, under the clock. There too he receives the bright reward, the approbation of the Provost of King's college, and the procession moves forward to the College-hall to partake of the generous banquet. On Sunday the Provost of King's remains a guest with his compeer of Eton. But busy Monday arrives, and hundreds of Oxonians and Cantabs pour in to witness the speeches of the boys, and pay a tribute of respect to their former masters. The exhibition this day takes place in the upper school, and consists of sixth form oppidans and collegers. How well can I remember the animated picture Eton presents on such occasions: shoals of juvenile oppidans, who are not yet of an age to have been elected of any particular school-party, marching forth from their dames' houses, linked arm in arm, parading down the street with an air and gaiety that implies some newly acquired consequence, or liberty of conduct. Every where a holiday face presents itself, and good humour lisps upon every tongue.

Here may be seen a youthful group, all anxiety and bustle, trudging after some well-known _Cad_, who creeps along towards the Windsor coach-office, loaded with portmanteaus, carpet bags, and ~53~~ boxes, like a Norfolk caravan at Christmas time; while the youthful proprietors of the bulky stock, all anxiety and desire to reach their relatives and friends, are hurrying him on, and do not fail to spur the _elephant_ with many a cutting gibe, at his slow progression. Within doors the dames are all bustle, collecting, arranging, and packing up the wardrobes of their respective boarders; servants flying from the hall to the attic, and endangering their necks in their pa.s.sage down again, from anxiety to meet the breathless impetuosity of their parting guests. Books of all cla.s.ses, huddled into a heap, may be seen in the corner of each bedroom, making _sock_ for the mice till the return of their purveyors with lots of plum-cake and savoury tarts. The more mature are now busily engaged in settling the fashion of their costume for the approaching gala; in receiving a visit from an elder brother, or a young Oxonian, formerly of Eton, who has arrived post to take _sock_ with him, and enjoy the approaching festivities. Here a venerable domestic, whose silver locks are the truest emblem of his trusty services, arrives with the favorite pony to convey home the infant heir and hope of some n.o.ble house.

Now is Garraway as lively as my lord mayor's steward at a Guildhall feast-day; and the active note of preparation for the good things of this world rings through the oaken chambers of the Christopher. Not even the _sanctum sanctorum_ is forgotten, where, in times long past, I have quaffed my jug of Bulstrode, "in cool grot," removed from the scorching heat of a July day, and enjoyed many a good joke, secure from the prying observations of the _domine_. One, and one only, cla.s.s of persons wear a sorrowful face upon these joyous occasions, and these are the confectioners and fruitresses of Eton; with them, election Sat.u.r.day and busy Monday are like the herald to a Jewish black fast, or a stock exchange holiday: they may as well _sport their oaks_ (to use an Oxford phrase) till the ~54~~ return of the oppidans to school, for they seldom see the colour of a customer's cash till the, to them, happy period arrives.

On the succeeding days the examinations of the collegers proceed regularly; then follows the election of new candidates, and the severe trial of those who stand for King's. These scholastic arrangements generally conclude on the Wednesday night, or Thursday morning, and then Pleasure mounts her variegated car, and drives wherever Fancy may direct. Formerly I find seven or eight scholars went to King's;{*} but in consequence of the fellows of Eton holding pluralities, the means are impoverished, and the number consequently reduced to two or three: this is the more to be regretted, on account of the very severe and irrecoverable disappointment the scholars experience in losing their election, merely on account of age; as at nineteen they are superannuated, and cannot afterwards receive any essential benefit from the college.

Not the blue waves of the Engia, covered with the gay feluccas of the Greeks, and spreading their glittering streamers in the sun; nor the more lovely

* This n.o.ble seminary of learning was founded by Hen. VI. in 1440. Its establishment was then on a limited scale; it has long since been enlarged, and now consists of a provost, vice-provost, six fellows, two schoolmasters, with their a.s.sistants, seventy scholars, seven clerks, and ten choristers, besides various inferior officers and servants.

The annual election of scholars to King's College, Cambridge, takes place about the end of July, or the beginning of August, when the twelve senior scholars are put on the roll to succeed, but they are not removed till vacancies occur; the average number of which is about nine in two years. At nineteen years of age the scholars are superannuated. Eton sends, also, two scholars to Merton College, Oxford, where they are denominated post-masters, and has likewise a few exhibitions of twenty-one guineas each for its superannuated scholars. The scholars elected to King's succeed to fellowships at three years' standing.

~55~~ Adriatic, swelling her translucent bosom to the gentle motion of the gondolier, and bearing on her surface the splendid cars and magnificent pageant of the Doge of Venice, marrying her waters to the sea, can to an English bosom yield half the delight the grand aquatic Eton gala affords; where, decked in every costume fancy can devise, may be seen the n.o.ble youth of Britain, her rising statesmen, warriors, and judges, the future guardians of her liberties, wealth, and commerce, all vying with each other in loyal devotion to celebrate the sovereign's natal day.{*} Then doth thy silvery bosom, father Thames, present a spectacle truly delightful; a transparent mirror, studded with gems and stars and splendid pageantry, reflecting a thousand brilliant variegated hues; while, upon thy flowery margin, the loveliest daughters of the land press the green velvet of luxuriant nature, outrivalling in charms of colour, form, and beauty, the rose, the lily, and the graceful pine.

There too may be seen the accomplished and the gay youth labouring for pleasure at the healthful oar, while with experienced skill the expert helmsman directs through all thy fragrant windings the trim bark to victory. The race determined, the bright star of eve, outrivalled by the pyrotechnic _artiste_, hides his diminished head. Now sallies forth the gay Oxonian from the Christopher, ripe with the rare Falernian of mine host, to have his frolic gambol with old friends. Pale Luna, through her misty veil, smiles at these harmless pleasantries, and lends the merry group her aid to smuggle signs, alter names, and play off a thousand fantastic vagaries; while the Eton Townsman, robed in

* The grand aquatic gala, which terminates the week's festi- vities at Eton, and concludes the water excursions for the season, was originally fixed in honour of his late majesty's birthday, and would have been altered to the period of his successor's, but the time would not accord, the twelfth day of August being vacation.

~50~~ peaceful slumber, dreams not of the change his house has undergone, and wakes to find a double transformation; his _Angel_ vanished, or exchanged for the rude semblance of an Oxford _Bear_, with a cognomen thereto appended, as foreign to his family nomenclature "as he to Hercules." In the morning the dames are wailing the loss of their polished knockers; and the barber-surgeon mourns the absence of his obtrusive pole. The optician's gla.s.ses have been removed to the door of some prying _domine_; and the large tin c.o.c.ked hat has been seized by some midnight giant, who has also claimed old Crispin's three-leagued boot. The golden fish has leaped into the Thames. The landlord of the Lamb bleats loudly for his fleece. The grocer cares not a fig for the loss of his sugar-loaves, but laughs, and takes it as a currant joke.

Old Duplicate is resolved to have his b.a.l.l.s restored with interest; and the lady mother of the black doll is quite pale in the face with sorrow for the loss of her child. Mine host of the vine looks as sour as his own grapes, before they were fresh gilded; and spruce master Pigtail, the tobacconist, complains that his large roll of real Virginia has been chopped into short cut. But these are by far the least tormenting jokes.

That good-humoured Cad, Jem Miller, finds the honorary distinction of private tutor added to his name. Dame ----s, an irreproachable spinster of forty, discovers that of Mr. Probe, man-midwife, appended to her own. Mr. Primefit, the Eton Stultz, is changed into Botch, the cobbler.

Diodorus Drowsy, D.D., of Windsor, is re-christened Diggory Drenchall, common brewer; and the amiable Mrs. Margaret Sweet, the Eton pastry-cook and confectioner, finds her name united in bands of bra.s.s with Mr.

Benjamin Bittertart, the baker. The celebrated Christopher Caustic, Esq., surgeon, has the mortification to find his Esculapian dormitory decorated with the sign-board of Mr. Slaughtercalf, a German butcher; while his handsome bra.s.s pestle ~57~~ and mortar, with the gilt Galen's head annexed, have been waggishly transferred to the house of some Eton d.i.c.key Gossip, barber and dentist.

Mr. Index, the bookseller, changes names with old Frank Finis, the s.e.xton. The elegant door plate of Miss Caroline Cypher, spinster, is placed on the right side of Nicodemus

Number, B.A., and fellow of Eton, with this note annexed: "New rule of Addition, according to c.o.c.ker." Old Amen, the parish clerk, is united to Miss Bridget Silence, the pew opener; and Theophilus White, M.D. changes place with Mr. Sable, the undertaker. But we shall become too grave if we proceed deeper with this subject. There is no end to the whimsical alterations and ludicrous changes that take place upon these occasions, when scarce a sign or door plate in Eton escapes some pantomimic transformation.*

* Representations to the masters or authorities are scarcely ever necessary to redress these whimsical grievances, as the injured parties are always remunerated. The next day the spoils and trophies are arranged in due form in a certain snug sanctum sanctorum, the cellar of a favorite inn, well known by the name of the _Oppidan's_ Museum; for a view of which see the sketch made on the spot by my friend Bob Transit. Here the merry wags are to be found in council, holding a court of claims, to which all the tradesmen who have suffered any loss are successively summoned; and after pointing out from among the motley collection the article they claim, and the price it originally cost, they are handsomely remunerated, or the sign replaced. The good people of Eton generally choose the former, as it not only enable them to sport a new sign, but to put a little profit upon the cost price of the old one. The trophies thus acquired are then packed up in hampers, and despatched to Oxford, where they are on similar occasions not unfrequently displayed, or hung up, in lieu of some well-known sign, such as the Mitre, &c. which has been removed during the night.

~58~~

[Ill.u.s.tration: page058]

The following jeu-d'esprits issued upon the interference of the authorities at the conclusion of the last Election. The "dance of thirty sovereigns" is an allusion to the fine imposed, which was given to the poor.

A Ladder Dance.

A moving golden Fish.

The Fall of Grapes, during a heavy storm.

The c.o.c.k'd Hat Combat.

A March to the Workhouse.

Bird-cage Duett, by Messrs. C***** and B****.

A public Breakfast, with a dance by thirty sovereigns.

Glee--"When shall we three meet again."