SUNDRY WARS AND ALLIANCES.
"Poor old Benjy! the "rheumatiz" has much to answer for all through
English country-sides,[1] but it never played a scurvier trick than in
laying thee by the heels, when thou wast yet in a green old age. The
enemy, which had long been carrying on a sort of border warfare, and
trying his strength against Benjy's on the battlefield of his hands
and legs, now, mustering all his forces, began laying siege to the
citadel, and overrunning the whole country. Benjy was seized in the
back and loins; and though he made strong and brave fight, it was soon
clear enough that all which could be beaten of poor old Benjy would
have to give in before long.
[1] #Country-sides#: country districts.
It was as much as he could do now, with the help of his big stick and
frequent stops, to hobble down to the canal with Master Tom, and bait
his hook for him, and sit and watch his angling, telling him quaint
old country stories; and when Tom had no sport, and detecting a rat
some hundred yards or so off along the bank, would rush off with Toby,
the turnspit[2] terrier, his other faithful companion, in bootless
pursuit, he might have tumbled in and been drowned twenty times over
before Benjy could have got near him.
[2] #Turnspit#: a kind of dog, formerly trained to turn a spit
for roasting meat.
Cheery and unmindful of himself as Benjy was, this loss of locomotive
power bothered him greatly. He had got a new object in his old age,
and was just beginning to think himself useful again in the world. He
feared much, too, lest Master Tom should fall back again into the
hands of Charity and the women. So he tried everything he could think
of to get set up. He even went on an expedition to the dwelling of one
of those queer mortals, who--say what we will and reason how we
will--do cure simple people of diseases of one kind or another without
the aid of physic; and so get to themselves the reputation of using
charms, and inspire for themselves and their dwellings great respect,
not to say fear, amongst a simple folk such as the dwellers in the
Vale of White Horse. Where this power, or whatever else it may be,
descends upon the shoulders of a man whose ways are not straight, he
becomes a nuisance to the neighborhood; a receiver of stolen goods,
the avowed enemy of law and order. Sometimes, however, they are of
quite a different stamp, men who pretend to know nothing, and are with
difficulty persuaded to exercise their occult[3] arts in the simplest
cases.
BENJY RESORTS TO A "WISE MAN."
Of this latter sort was old Farmer Ives, as he was called, the "wise
man" to whom Benjy resorted (taking Tom with him as usual), in the
early spring of the year next after the feast described in the last
chapter. Why he was called "farmer" I cannot say, unless it be that he
was the owner of a cow, a pig or two, and some poultry, which he
maintained on about an acre of land inclosed from the middle of a wild
common, on which probably his father had squatted before lords of
manors[4] looked as keenly after their rights as they do now. Here he
had lived no one knew how long, a solitary man. It was often rumored
that he was to be turned out and his cottage pulled down, but somehow
it never came to pass; and his pigs and cow went grazing on the
common, and his geese hissed at the passing children and at the heels
of the horse of my lord's steward, who often rode by with a covetous
eye on the inclosure, still unmolested. His dwelling was some miles
from our village; so Benjy, who was half ashamed of his errand, and
wholly unable to walk there, had to exercise much ingenuity to get the
means of transporting himself and Tom thither without exciting
suspicion. However, one fine May morning he managed to borrow the old
blind pony of our friend the publican,[5] and Tom persuaded Madam
Brown to give him a holiday to spend with old Benjy, and to lend them
the squire's light cart, stored with bread and cold meat and a bottle
of ale. And so the two in high glee started behind old Dobbin, and
jogged along the deep-rutted plashy roads, which had not been mended
after their winter's wear, toward the dwelling of the wizard. About
noon they passed the gate which opened on to the large common, and old
Dobbin toiled slowly up the hill, while Benjy pointed out a little
deep dingle on the left, out of which welled a tiny stream. As they
crept up the hill the tops of a few birch-trees came in sight, and
blue smoke curling up through their delicate light boughs; and then
the little white thatched home and inclosed ground of Farmer Ives,
lying cradled in the dingle,[6] with the gay gorse common rising
behind and on both sides; while in front, after traversing a gentle
slope, the eye might travel for miles and miles over the rich Vale.
They now left the main road and struck into a green track over the
common, marked lightly with wheel and horse-shoe, which led down into
the dingle and stopped at the rough gate of Farmer Ives. Here they
found the farmer, an iron-gray old man, with a bushy eyebrow and
strong aquiline nose busied in one of his vocations. He was a horse
and cow doctor, and was tending a sick beast which had been sent up to
be cured. Benjy hailed him as an old friend, and he returned the
greeting cordially enough, looking, however, hard for a moment both at
Benjy and Tom, to see whether there was more in their visit than
appeared at first sight. It was a work of some difficulty and danger
for Benjy to reach the ground, which, however, he managed to do
without mishap; and then he devoted himself to unharnessing Dobbin,
and turning him out for a graze ("a run" one could not say of that
virtuous steed) on the common. This done, he extricated the cold
provisions from the cart, and they entered the farmer's wicket;[7] and
he, shutting up the knife with which he was at work, accompanied them
toward the cottage. A big old lurcher[8] got up slowly from the
doorstone, stretching first one hind leg, and then the other, and
taking Tom's caresses and the presence of Toby, who kept, however, at
a respectful distance, with equal indifference.
[3] #Occult#: secret or magical.
[4] #Manor#: the estate of a lord.
[5] #Publican#: an innkeeper.
[6] #Dingle#: a narrow valley.
[7] #Wicket#: gate.
[8] #Lurcher#: a dog that lies in wait for game, more used by
poachers or men that steal game than by sportsmen.
"Us be come to pay ee a visit. I've a been long minded to do't for old
sake's sake, only I vinds I dwont get about now as I'd used to't. I be
so plaguy bad wi' th' rhumatiz in my back." Benjy paused, in hopes of
drawing the farmer at once on the subject of his ailment without
further direct application.
"Ah, I see as you bean't quite so lissom[9] as you was," replied the
farmer, with a grim smile, as he lifted the latch of his door. "We
bean't so young as we was, nother[10] on us, wuss luck."
[9] #Lissom#: limber.
[10] #Nother#: neither.
THE "WISE MAN'S" SURROUNDINGS.
The farmer's cottage was very like those of the better class of
peasantry in general. A snug chimney-corner with two seats and a small
carpet on the hearth, an old flint gun and a pair of spurs over the
fire-place, a dresser[11] with shelves, on which some bright pewter
plates and crockery-ware were arranged, an old walnut table, a few
chairs and settles,[12] some framed samplers[13] and an old print or
two, and a book-case with some dozen volumes on the walls, a rack with
flitches[14] of bacon and other stores fastened to the ceiling, and
you have the best part of the furniture. No sign of occult art is to
be seen, unless the bundles of dried herbs hanging to the rack and in
the ingle,[15] and the row of labelled vials on one of the shelves
betoken it.
[11] #Dresser#: a sideboard or cupboard.
[12] #Settle#: a bench.
[13] #Sampler#: a pattern for needlework.
[14] #Flitch#: a side of bacon.
[15] #Ingle#: chimney-corner.
Tom played about with some kittens who occupied the hearth, and with a
goat who walked demurely in at the open door, while their host and
Benjy spread the table for dinner--and was soon engaged in conflict
with the cold meat, to which he did much honor. The two old men's talk
was of old comrades and their deeds, mute inglorious Miltons[16] of
the Vale, and of the doings thirty years back--which didn't interest
him much, except when they spoke of the making of the canal; and then,
indeed, he began to listen with all his ears, and learned, to his no
small wonder, that his dear and wonderful canal had not been there
always--was not, in fact, as old as Benjy or Farmer Ives, which caused
a strange commotion in his small brain.
[16] #"Mute, inglorious Miltons"#: see Gray's "Elegy."
After dinner Benjy called attention to a wart which Tom had on the
knuckles of his hand, and which the family doctor had been trying his
skill on without success, and begged the farmer to charm it away.
Farmer Ives looked at it, muttered something or another over it, and
cut some notches in a short stick, which he handed to Benjy, giving
him instructions for cutting it down on certain days, and cautioning
Tom not to meddle with the wart for a fortnight. And then they
strolled out and sat on a bench in the sun with their pipes, and the
pigs came up and grunted sociably and let Tom scratch them; and the
farmer, seeing how he liked animals, stood up and held his arms in the
air and gave a call, which brought a flock of pigeons wheeling and
dashing through the birch-trees. They settled down in clusters on the
farmer's arms and shoulders, making love to him and scrambling over
one another's back to get to his face; and then he threw them all off,
and they fluttered about close by, and lighted on him again and again
when he held up his arms. All the creatures about the place were clean
and fearless, quite unlike their relations elsewhere; and Tom begged
to be taught how to make all the pigs and cows and poultry in our
village tame, at which the farmer only gave one of his grim chuckles.
BENJY'S RHEUMATISM.
It wasn't till they were just ready to go, and old Dobbin was
harnessed, that Benjy broached the subject of his rheumatism again,
detailing his symptoms one by one. Poor old boy! He hoped the farmer
could charm it away as easily as he could Tom's wart, and was ready
with equal faith to put another notched stick into his other pocket
for the cure of his ailments. The physician shook his head, but
nevertheless produced a bottle and handed it to Benjy with
instructions for use. "Not as t'll do ee much good--leastways I be
afeared not," shading his eyes with his hand and looking up at them in
the cart; "there's only one thing as I knows on, as'll cure old folks
like you and I o' th' rhumatiz."
"Wot be that, then, farmer?" inquired Benjy.
"Church-yard mold," said the old iron-gray man with another chuckle.
And so they said their good-byes and went their ways home. Tom's wart
was gone in a fortnight, but not so Benjy's rheumatism, which laid him
by the heels more and more. And though Tom still spent many an hour
with him, as he sat on a bench in the sunshine, or by the
chimney-corner when it was cold, he soon had to seek elsewhere for his
regular companions.
Tom had been accustomed often to accompany his mother in her visits to
the cottages, and had thereby made acquaintances with many of the
village boys of his own age. There was Job Rudkin, son of widow
Rudkin, the most bustling woman in the parish. How she could ever have
had such a stolid[17] boy as Job for a child, must always remain a
mystery. The first time Tom went to their cottage with his mother, Job
was not indoors, but he entered soon after, and stood with both hands
in his pockets staring at Tom. Widow Rudkin, who would have had to
cross Madam to get at young Hopeful--a breach of good manners of which
she was wholly incapable--began a series of pantomime signs, which
only puzzled him, and at last, unable to contain herself longer, burst
out with, "Job! Job! where's thy cap?"
[17] #Stolid#: dull.
"What! beant ee on ma head, mother?" replied Job, slowly extricating
one hand from a pocket and feeling for the article in question; which
he found on his head sure enough, and left there, to his mother's
horror and Tom's great delight.
Then there was poor Jacob Dodson, the half-witted boy, who ambled
about cheerfully, undertaking messages and little helpful odds and
ends, for every one, which, however, poor Jacob managed always
hopelessly to embrangle.[18] Everything came to pieces in his hands,
and nothing would stop in his head. They nicknamed him Jacob
Doodle-calf.
[18] #Embrangle#: mix up.
But above all there was Harry Winburn, the quickest and best boy in
the parish. He might be a year older than Tom, but was very little
bigger, and he was the Crichton[19] of our village boys. He could
wrestle and climb and run better than all the rest, and learned all
that the schoolmaster could teach him faster than that worthy at all
liked. He was a boy to be proud of, with his curly brown hair, keen
gray eye, straight active figure, and little ears and hands and
feet--"as fine as a lord's," as Charity remarked to Tom one day,
talking as usual great nonsense. Lords' hands and ears and feet are
just as ugly as other folks' when they are children, as any one may
convince himself if he likes to look. Tight boots and gloves, and
doing nothing with them, I allow make a difference by the time they
are twenty.
[19] #Crichton#: a Scottish gentleman of the sixteenth
century, called for his learning and skill "The Admirable
Crichton."
TORYISM OF SQUIRE BROWN.
Now that Benjy was laid on the shelf, and his young brothers were
still under petticoat government, Tom, in search of companions, began
to cultivate the village boys generally more and more. Squire Brown,
be it said, was a true blue[20] Tory[21] to the backbone, and believed
honestly that the powers which be were ordained of God, and that
loyalty and steadfast obedience were man's first duties. Whether it
were in consequence or in spite of his political creed, I do not mean
to give an opinion, though I have one; but certain it is, that he held
therewith divers social principles not generally supposed to be true
blue in color. Foremost of these, and the one which the Squire loved
to propound above all others, was the belief that a man is to be
valued wholly and solely for that which he is in himself, for that
which stands up in the four fleshy walls of him, apart from clothes,
rank, fortune, and all externals whatsoever. Which belief I take to be
a wholesome corrective of all political opinions, and, if held
sincerely, to make all opinions equally harmless, whether they be
blue, red or green. As a necessary corollary[22] to this belief,
Squire Brown held further that it didn't matter a straw whether his
son associated with lords' sons or plowmen's sons, provided they were
brave and honest. He himself had played foot-ball and gone
birds'-nesting with the farmers whom he met at vestry[23] and the
laborers who tilled their fields, and so had his father and
grandfather, with their progenitors.[24] So he encouraged Tom in his
intimacy with the boys of the village, and forwarded it by all means
in his power, and gave them the run of a close[25] for a playground,
and provided bats and balls and a foot-ball for their sports.
[20] #True blue#: genuine.
[21] #Tory#: a member of the conservative party in politics.
[22] #Corollary#: an inference from something before stated.
[23] #Vestry#: parish meeting.
[24] #Progenitors#: forefathers.
[25] #Close#: any inclosed place; here, probably a field.
TOM'S WATCH-TOWER BY THE SCHOOL.
Our village was blessed, amongst other things, with a well-endowed
school. The building stood by itself, apart from the master's house,
on an angle of ground where three roads met; an old gray stone
building, with a steep roof and mullioned[26] windows. On one of the
opposite angles stood Squire Brown's stables and kennel, with their
backs to the road, over which towered a great elm-tree; on the third,
stood the village carpenter and wheelwright's large open shop, and his
house and the schoolmaster's, with long, low eaves under which the
swallows built by scores.
[26] #Mullioned#: subdivided by slender, upright bars or
columns.
The moment Tom's lessons were over, he would now get him down to this
corner by the stables, and watch till the boys came out of school. He
prevailed on the groom to cut notches for him in the bark of the elm,
so that he could climb into the lower branches, and there he would
sit watching the school-door, and speculating on the possibility of
turning the elm into a dwelling-place for himself and friends after
the manner of the Swiss Family Robinson.[27] But the school hours
were long and Tom's patience short; so that he soon began to descend
into the street, and go and peep in at the school-door and the
wheelwright's shop, and look out for something to while away the time.
Now the wheelwright was a choleric[28] man, and one fine afternoon,
returning from a short absence, found Tom occupied with one of his pet
adzes, the edge of which was fast vanishing under our hero's care.
A speedy flight saved Tom from all but one sound cuff on the ears,
but he resented this unjustifiable interruption of his first essays
at carpentering, and still more the further proceedings of the
wheelwright, who cut a switch and hung it over the door of his
workshop, threatening to use it upon Tom if he came within twenty
yards of his gate. So Tom, to retaliate, commenced a war upon the
swallows who dwelt under the wheelwright's eaves, whom he harassed
with sticks and stones, and being fleeter of foot than his enemy,
escaped all punishment, and kept him in perpetual anger. Moreover, his
presence about the school-door began to incense the master, as the
boys in that neighborhood neglected their lessons in consequence: and
more than once he issued into the porch, rod in hand, just as Tom beat
a hasty retreat. And he and the wheelwright, laying their heads
together, resolved to acquaint the squire with Tom's afternoon
occupations; but, in order to do it with effect, determined to take
him captive and lead him away to judgment fresh from his evil doings.
This they would have found some difficulty in doing, had Tom continued
the war single-handed, or rather single-footed, for he would have
taken to the deepest part of Pebbly Brook to escape them; but, like
other active powers, he was ruined by his alliances. Poor Jacob
Doodle-calf could not go to the school with the other boys, and one
fine afternoon, about three o'clock (the school broke up at four)
Tom found him ambling about the street, and pressed him into a visit
to the school-porch. Jacob, always ready to do what was asked,
consented, and the two stole down to the school together. Tom first
reconnoitered[29] the wheelwright's shop, and seeing no signs of
activity, thought all safe in that quarter, and ordered at once an
advance of all his troops upon the school-porch. The door of the
school was ajar, and the boys seated on the nearest bench at once
recognized and opened a correspondence with the invaders. Tom, waxing
bold, kept putting his head into the school and making faces at the
master when his back was turned. Poor Jacob, not in the least
comprehending the situation, and in high glee at finding himself so
near the school, which he had never been allowed to enter, suddenly,
in a fit of enthusiasm, pushed by Tom, and ambling three steps into
the school, stood there, looking round him and nodding with a
self-approving smile. The master who was stooping over a boy's slate,
with his back to the door, became aware of something unusual, and
turned quickly round. Tom rushed at Jacob, and began dragging him back
by his smock-frock, and the master made at them, scattering forms[30]
and boys in his career. Even now they might have escaped, but that in
the porch, barring retreat, appeared the crafty wheelwright, who had
been watching all their proceedings. So they were seized, the school
dismissed, and Tom and Jacob led away to Squire Brown as lawful
prizes, the boys following to the gate in groups, and speculating on
the result.
[27] #Swiss Family Robinson#: a story of the adventures of a
shipwrecked family on a desert island.
[28] #Choleric#: inclined to anger.
[29] #Reconnoitered#: here, examined in a general way or at a
little distance.
DEFEAT, CAPTURE, PEACE.
The Squire was very angry at first, but the interview, with Tom's
pleading, ended in a compromise. Tom was not to go near the school
till three o'clock, and only then if he had done his own lessons well,
in which case he was to be the bearer of a note to the master from
Squire Brown; and the master agreed in such case to release ten or
twelve of the best boys an hour before the time of breaking
up, to go off and play in the close. The wheelwright's adzes and
swallows were to be forever respected; and that hero and the master
withdrew to the servants' hall,[31] to drink the Squire's health, well
satisfied with their day's work.
[30] #Forms#: benches.
[31] #Servants' hall#: the servants' dining-room.
The second act of Tom's life may now be said to have begun. The war of
independence had been over for some time; none of the women now, not
even his mother's maid, dared offer to help him in dressing or
washing. Between ourselves, he had often at first to run to Benjy in
an unfinished state of toilet. Charity and the rest of them seemed to
take a delight in putting impossible buttons and ties in the middle of
his back; but he would have gone without nether[32] integuments[33]
altogether, sooner than have had recourse to female valeting. He had a
room to himself, and his father gave him sixpence a week pocket-money.
All this he had achieved by Benjy's advice and assistance. But now he
had conquered another step in life, the step which all real boys so
long to make; he had got amongst his equals in age and strength, and
could measure himself with other boys; he lived with those whose
pursuits and wishes and ways were the same in kind as his own.
[32] #Nether#: lower.
[33] #Integuments#: garments.
PLAY AND WORK.
The little governess, who had lately been installed in the house,
found her work grow wondrously easy, for Tom slaved at his lessons in
order to make sure of his note to the schoolmaster. So there were
very few days in the week in which Tom and the village boys were
not playing in their close by three o'clock. Prisoner's base,[34]
rounders, high-cock-a-lorum, cricket, foot-ball, he was soon initiated
into the delights of them all; and though most of the boys were older
than himself, he managed to hold his own very well. He was naturally
active and strong, and quick of eye and hand, and had the advantage of
light shoes and well-fitting dress, so that in a short time he could
run and jump and climb with any of them.
[34] #Prisoner's base#, etc.: boys' games.
RIDING AND WRESTLING.
They generally finished their regular games half an hour or so before
tea-time, and then began trials of skill and strength in many ways.
Some of them would catch the Shetland pony who was turned out in the
field, and get two or three together on his back, and the little
rogue, enjoying the fun, would gallop off for fifty yards and then
turn round, or stop short and shoot them on to the turf, and then gaze
quietly on till he felt another load; others played at peg-top or
marbles, while a few of the bigger ones stood up for a bout at
wrestling. Tom at first only looked on at this pastime, but it had
peculiar attractions for him, and he could not long keep out of it.
Elbow and collar wrestling, as practised in the western counties, was,
next to back-swording, the way to fame for the youth of the Vale; and
all the boys knew the rules of it, and were more or less expert. But
Job Rudkin and Harry Winburn were the stars, the former stiff and
sturdy, with legs like small towers, the latter pliant as india-rubber
and quick as lightning. Day after day they stood foot to foot, and
offered first one hand and then the other, and grappled, and closed,
and swayed, and strained, till a well-aimed crook of the heel or
thrust of the loin took effect, and a fair backfall ended the matter.
And Tom watched with all his eyes, and first challenged one of the
less scientific, and threw him; and so one by one wrestled his way up
to the leaders.
Then indeed for months he had a poor time of it; it was not long
indeed before he could manage to keep his legs against Job, for that
hero was slow of offence, and gained his victories chiefly by allowing
others to throw themselves against his immovable legs and loins, but
Harry Winburn was undeniably his master; from the first clutch of
hands when they stood up, down to the last trip which sent him on his
back on the turf, he felt that Harry knew more and could do more than
he. Luckily Harry's bright unconsciousness, and Tom's natural good
temper, kept them from ever quarrelling; and so Tom worked on and on,
and trod more and more nearly on Harry's heels, and at last mastered
all the dodges and falls except one. This one was Harry's own
particular invention and pet; he scarcely ever used it except when
hard pressed, but then out it came, and, as sure as it did, over went
poor Tom. He thought about that fall at his meals, in his walks, when
he lay awake in bed, in his dreams,--but all to no purpose; until
Harry one day in his open way suggested to him how he thought it
should be met, and in a week from that time the boys were equal, save
only the slight difference of strength in Harry's favor, which some
extra ten months of age gave. Tom had often afterward reason to be
thankful for that early drilling, and above all for having mastered
Harry Winburn's fall.
Besides their home games, on Saturdays the boys would wander all over
the neighborhood; sometimes to the downs or up to the camp, where they
cut their initials out in the springy turf, and watched the hawks
soaring, and the "peert" bird, as Harry Winburn called the gray
plover, gorgeous in his wedding feathers; and so home, racing down the
Manger with many a roll among the thistles, or through Uffington-wood
to watch the fox-cubs playing in the green rides;[35] sometimes to
Rosy Brook, to cut long whispering reeds which grew there, to make
pan-pipes of; sometimes to Moor Mills, where was a piece of old forest
land, with short browsed turf and tufted brambly thickets stretching
under the oaks, amongst which rumor declared that a raven,[36] last of
his race, still lingered; or to the sand hills, in vain quest of
rabbits; and birds'-nesting, in the season, anywhere and everywhere.
[35] #Green rides#: roads cut through woods or pleasure
grounds.
[36] #Raven#: a large black bird of the crow family.
EARLIEST PLAYMATES.
The few neighbors of the Squire's own rank every now and then would
shrug their shoulders as they drove or rode by a party of boys with
Tom in the middle, carrying along bulrushes or whispering reeds, or
great bundles of cowslip and meadow-sweet, or young starlings or
magpies, or other spoil of wood, brook, or meadow, and Lawyer Redtape
might mutter to Squire Straightback at the Board, that no good would
come of the young Browns, if they were let run wild with all the dirty
village boys, whom the best farmers' sons even would not play with.
And the Squire might reply with a shake of his head, that _his_ sons
only mixed with their equals, and never went into the village without
a governess or a footman.[37] But, luckily, Squire Brown was full as
stiff-backed as his neighbors, and so went on his own way; and Tom
and his younger brothers, as they grew up, went on playing with the
village boys, without the idea of equality or inequality (except in
wrestling, running, and climbing) ever entering their heads, as it
doesn't till it's put there by over-nice people or fine ladies' maids.
[37] #Footman#: a man-servant in livery.
I don't mean to say it would be the case in all villages, but it
certainly was so in this one; the village boys were full as manly and
honest, and certainly purer than those in a higher rank; and Tom got
more harm from his equals in his first fortnight at a private school,
where he went when he was nine years old, than he had from his village
friends from the day he left Charity's apron-strings.
FIRST SCHOOL.
Great was the grief amongst the village school-boys when Tom drove off
with the Squire, one August morning, to meet the coach on his way to
school. Each of them had given him some little present of the best
that he had, and his small private box was full of peg-tops, white
marbles (called "alley taws" in the Vale), screws, birds'-eggs,
whipcord, Jews-harps, and other miscellaneous boys' wealth. Poor Jacob
Doodle-calf, in floods of tears, had pressed upon him, in spluttering
earnestness, his lame pet hedgehog (he had always some poor
broken-down beast or bird by him); but this Tom had been obliged to
refuse by the Squire's order. He had given them all a great tea under
the big elm in their playground, for which Madam Brown had supplied
the biggest cake ever seen in our village; and Tom was really as sorry
to leave them as they to lose him, but his sorrow was not unmixed with
the pride and excitement of making a new step in life.
And this feeling carried him through his first parting with his mother
better than could have been expected. Their love was as fair and whole
as human love can be, perfect self-sacrifice on the one side, meeting
a young and true heart on the other. It is not within the scope of my
book, however, to speak of family relations, or I should have much to
say on the subject of English mothers,--ay, and of English fathers,
and sisters, and brothers, too.
OF PRIVATE SCHOOLS.
Neither have I room to speak of our private schools; what I
have to say is about public schools,[38] those much-abused and
much-belauded[39] institutions peculiar to England. So we must hurry
through Master Tom's year at a private school as fast as we can.
[38] #Public schools#: a name given to certain large and
richly endowed schools in England which are chiefly patronized
by wealthy men. They are wholly unlike the public schools
of the United States. Eton, Harrow, Winchester, Rugby, and
Westminster are among the best known of this class of schools.
[39] #Belauded#: praised.
It was a fair average specimen, kept by a gentleman, with another
gentleman as second master; but it was little enough of the real work
they did,--merely coming into school when lessons were prepared and
already to be heard. The whole discipline of the school out of lesson
hours was in the hands of the two ushers,[40] one of whom was always
with the boys in their playground, in the school, at meals,--in fact,
at all times and everywhere, till they were fairly in bed at night.
[40] #Usher#: an under-teacher.
Now, the theory of private schools is (or was) constant supervision
out of school; therein differing fundamentally from that of public
schools.
It may be right or wrong; but, if right, this supervision surely ought
to be the especial work of the head-master, the responsible person.
The object of all schools is not to cram Latin and Greek into boys,
but to make them good English boys, good future citizens; and by far
the most important part of that work must be done, or not done, out of
school hours. To leave it, therefore, in the hands of inferior men, is
just giving up the highest and hardest part of the work of education.
Were I a private schoolmaster, I should say, let who will hear the
boys their lessons, but let me live with them when they are at play
and rest.
The two ushers in Tom's first school were not gentlemen, were very
poorly educated, and were only driving their poor trade of usher to
get such living as they could out of it. They were not bad men, but
had little heart for their work, and, of course, were bent on making
it as easy as possible. One of the methods by which they endeavored to
accomplish this was by encouraging tale-bearing, which had become a
frightfully common vice in the school in consequence, and had sapped
all the foundations of school morality. Another was, by grossly
favoring the biggest boys, who alone could have given them much
trouble; whereby those young gentlemen became most abominable tyrants,
oppressing the little boys in all the small mean ways which prevail in
private schools.
TOM'S FIRST LETTER HOME.
Poor little Tom was made dreadfully unhappy in his first week, by a
catastrophe which happened to his first letter home. With huge labor
he had, on the very evening of his arrival, managed to fill two sides
of a sheet of letter-paper with the assurances of his love for dear
mamma, his happiness at school, and his resolves to do all she would
wish. This missive,[41] with the help of the boy who sat at the desk
next him, also a new arrival, he managed to fold successfully; but
this done they were sadly put to it for means of sealing. Envelopes
were then unknown, they had no wax, and dared not disturb the
stillness of the evening school-room by getting up and going to ask
the usher for some. At length, Tom's friend, being of an ingenious
turn of mind, suggested sealing with ink, and the letter was
accordingly stuck down with a blob of ink, and duly handed by Tom on
his way to bed, to the housekeeper to be posted. It was not till four
days afterward that the good dame sent for him, and produced the
precious letter and some wax saying, "Oh, Master Brown, I forgot to
tell you before, but your letter isn't sealed." Poor Tom took the wax
in silence and sealed his letter, with a huge lump rising in his
throat during the process, and then ran away to a quiet corner of the
playground, and burst into an agony of tears. The idea of his mother
waiting day after day for the letter he had promised her at once,
and perhaps thinking him forgetful of her, when he had done all
in his power to make good his promise, was as bitter a grief as any
which he had to undergo for many a long year. His wrath then was
proportionately violent when he was aware of two boys, who stopped
close by him, and one of whom, a fat gaby[42] of a fellow, pointed at
him and called him "Young mammy-sick!" Whereupon Tom arose, and giving
vent thus to his grief and shame and rage, smote his derider on the
nose, and made it bleed,--which sent that young worthy howling to
the usher, who reported Tom for violent and unprovoked assault and
battery. Hitting in the face was a felony[43] punishable with
flogging, other hitting only a misdemeanor,--a distinction not
altogether clear in principle. Tom, however, escaped the penalty by
pleading "primum tempus,"[44] and having written a second letter to
his mother, inclosing some forget-me-nots, which he picked on their
first half-holiday walk, felt quite happy again, and began to enjoy
vastly a good deal of his new life.
[41] #Missive#: anything to be sent; hence, a letter.
[42] #Gaby#: a dunce.
[43] #Felony#: a serious offence or crime.
[44] #Primum tempus#: first time.
These half-holiday walks were the great events of the week. The whole
fifty boys started after dinner with one of the ushers for Hazeldown,
which was distant some mile or so from the school. Hazeldown measured
some three miles round, and in the neighborhood were several woods
full of all manner of birds and butterflies. The usher walked slowly
round the down with such boys as liked to accompany him; the rest
scattered in all directions, being only bound to appear again when the
usher had completed his round, and accompany him home. They were
forbidden, however, to go anywhere except on the down and into the
woods; the village had been especially prohibited, where huge
bulls'-eyes[45] and unctuous toffee[46] might be procured in exchange
for coin of the realm.
[45] #Bulls'-eyes and toffee#: the former are hard balls of
sugar, the latter a kind of candy made of brown sugar and
butter.
[46] #Bulls'-eyes and toffee#: the former are hard balls of
sugar, the latter a kind of candy made of brown sugar and
butter.
THE AMUSEMENTS.
Various were the amusements to which the boys then betook themselves.
At the entrance of the down there was a steep hillock, like the
barrows of Tom's own downs. This mound was the weekly scene of
terrific combats, at a game called by the queer name of "mud-patties."
The boys who played divided into sides under different leaders, and
one side occupied the mound. Then all parties, having provided
themselves with many sods of turf, cut with their bread-and-cheese
knives, the side which remained at the bottom proceeded to assault the
mound, advancing upon all sides under cover of a heavy fire of turfs,
and then struggling for victory with the occupants, which was theirs
as soon as they could, even for a moment, clear the summit, when they
in turn became the besieged. It was a good, rough, dirty game, and of
great use in counteracting the sneaking tendencies of the school. Then
others of the boys spread over the downs, looking for the holes of
humble bees[47] and mice, which they dug up without mercy, often (I
regret to say) killing and skinning the unlucky mice, and (I do not
regret to say) getting well stung by the humble bees. Others went
after butterflies and birds'-eggs in their seasons; and Tom found on
Hazeldown, for the first time, the beautiful little blue butterfly
with golden spots on his wings, which he had never seen on his own
downs, and dug out his first sand-martin's nest. This latter
achievement resulted in a flogging, for the sand-martins build in a
high bank close to the village, consequently out of bounds;[48] but
one of the bolder spirits of the school, who never could be happy
unless he was doing something to which risk attached, easily persuaded
Tom to break bounds and visit the martin's bank. From whence, it being
only a step to the toffee shop, what could be more simple than to go
on there and fill their pockets? or what more certain than that on
their return, a distribution of treasure having been made, the usher
should shortly detect the forbidden smell of bulls'-eyes, and, a
search ensuing, discover the state of the breeches' pockets of Tom and
his ally?
[47] #Humble bees#: "bumble-bees."
[48] #Bounds#: the school limits, beyond which boys are not to
go without permission.
THE REPROBATE.
This ally of Tom's was indeed a desperate hero in the sight of the
boys, and feared as one who dealt in magic, or something approaching
thereto. Which reputation came to him in this wise. The boys went to
bed at eight, and, of course, consequently lay awake in the dark for
an hour or two, telling ghost stories by turns. One night when it came
to his turn, and he had dried up their souls by his story, he suddenly
declared that he would make a fiery hand appear on the door; and, to
the astonishment and terror of the boys in his room, a hand, or
something like it, in pale light, did then and there appear. The
fame of this exploit having spread to the other rooms, and being
discredited there, the young necromancer[49] declared that the same
wonder would appear in all the rooms in turn, which it accordingly
did; and the whole circumstances having been privately reported to
one of the ushers as usual, that functionary, after listening about
the doors of the rooms, by a sudden descent caught the performer in
his nightshirt, with a box of phosphorus[50] in his guilty hand.
Lucifer-matches and all the present facilities for getting acquainted
with fire were then unknown: the very name of phosphorus had something
diabolic in it to the boy mind; so Tom's ally, at the cost of a sound
flogging, earned what many older folks covet much,--the very decided
fear of most of his companions.
[49] #Necromancer#: (one who communes with the dead) a
conjurer.
[50] #Phosphorus#: the yellowish, inflammable substance used
in making common matches--in a pure state it burns on exposure
to air. Matches--called "Lucifers" or "light-bringers"--were
invented in England about 1829. Previous to that time the only
way of striking a light was by flint and steel, the spark
being caught on a bit of tinder (half-burnt rag) which was
then blown into a blaze.
He was a remarkable boy and by no means a bad one. Tom stuck to him
till he left, and got into many scrapes by so doing. But he was the
great opponent of the tale-bearing habits of the school; and the open
enemy of the ushers; and so worthy of all support.
Tom imbibed a fair amount of Latin and Greek at the school, but
somehow on the whole it didn't suit him, or he it, and in the holidays
he was constantly working the Squire to send him at once to a public
school. Great was his joy, then, when in the middle of his third
half-year, in October, 183-, a fever broke out in the village; and the
master having himself slightly sickened of it, the whole of the boys
were sent off at a week's notice to their respective homes.
The Squire was not quite so pleased as Master Tom to see that young
gentleman's brown, merry face appear at home, some two months before
the proper time, for the Christmas Holidays; and so, after putting on
his thinking-cap, he retired to his study and wrote several letters,
the result of which was, that one morning at the breakfast-table,
about a fortnight after Tom's return, he addressed his wife with: "My
dear, I have arranged that Tom shall go to Rugby[51] at once, for the
last six weeks of this half-year, instead of wasting them, riding and
loitering about home. It is very kind of the Doctor[52] to allow it.
Will you see that his things are all ready by Friday, when I shall
take him up to town, and send him down the next day by himself!"
[51] #Rugby#: a small village in Warwickshire on the river
Avon, nearly in the centre of England. It is the seat of Rugby
School,--one of the great public schools,--and was founded by
Lawrence Sheriff, a native of the neighboring village of
Brownsover, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. The school owes
its fame chiefly to Dr. Arnold, who became head master in
1827, and held the position until his death in 1842.
[52] #Doctor#: Dr. Arnold.
Mrs. Brown was prepared for the announcement, and merely suggested a
doubt whether Tom were yet old enough to travel by himself. However,
finding both father and son against her on this point, she gave in,
like a wise woman, and proceeded to prepare Tom's kit[53] for his
launch into a public school.
[53] #Kit#: here, clothes.