MR. VERDANT GREEN MATRICULATES, AND MAKES A SENSATION.
AS they went out at the gate, they inquired of the porter for Mr.
Charles Larkyns, but they found that he had not yet returned from the
friend's house where he had been during the vacation; whereupon Mr.
Green said that they <VG041.JPG> would go and look at the Oxford
lions, so that he might be able to answer any of the questions that
should be put to him on his return. They soon found a guide, one of
those wonderful people to which show-places give birth, and of whom
Oxford can boast a very goodly average; and under this gentleman's
guidance Mr. Verdant Green made his first acquaintance with the fair
outside of his Alma Mater.
The short, thick stick of the guide served to direct attention to the
various objects he enumerated in his rapid career: "This here's
Christ Church College," he said, as he trotted them down St Aldate's,
"built by Card'nal Hoolsy four underd feet long and the famous Tom
Tower as tolls wun underd and wun hevery night that being the number
of stoodents on the
[42 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
foundation;" and thus the guide went on, perfectly independent of the
artificial trammels of punctuation, and not particular whether his
hearers understood him or not: that was not ~his~ business. And as
it was that gentleman's boast that he "could do the alls, collidges,
and principal hedifices in a nour and a naff," it could not be
expected but that Mr. Green should take back to Warwickshire
otherwise than a slightly confused impression of Oxford.
When he unrolled that rich panorama before his "mind's eye," all its
component parts were strangely out of place. The rich spire of St.
Mary's claimed acquaintance with her <VG042.JPG> poorer sister at the
cathedral. The cupola of the Tom Tower got into close quarters with
the huge dome of the Radcliffe, that shrugged up its great round
shoulders at the intrusion of the cross-bred Graeco-Gothic tower of
All Saints. The theatre had walked up to St. Giles's to see how the
Taylor Buildings agreed with the University galleries; while the
Martyrs' Memorial had stepped down to Magdalen Bridge, in time to see
the college taking a walk in the Botanic Gardens. The Schools and
the Bodleian had set their back against the stately portico of the
Clarendon Press; while the antiquated Ashmolean had given place to
the more modern Townhall. The time-honoured, black-looking front of
University College had changed into the cold cleanliness of the
"classic" ~facade~ of Queen's. The two towers of All Souls', - whose
several stages seem to be pulled out of each other like the parts of
a telescope, - had, somehow, removed themselves from the rest of the
building, which had gone, nevertheless, on a tour to Broad Street;
behind which, as every one knows, are the Broad Walk and the Christ
Church meadows. Merton Chapel had got into ~New~ quarters; and
Wadham had gone to Worcester for change of
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 43]
air. Lincoln had migrated from near Exeter to Pembroke; and
Brasenose had its nose quite put out of joint by St. John's. In
short, if the maps of Oxford are to be trusted, there had been a
general ~pousset~ movement among its public buildings.
But if such a shrewd and practised observer as Sir Walter Scott,
after a week's hard and systematic sight-seeing, could only say of
Oxford, "The time has been much too short to convey to me separate
and distinct ideas of all the variety of wonders that I saw: my
memory only at present furnishes a grand but indistinct picture of
towers, and chapels, and oriels, and vaulted halls, and libraries,
and paintings;" - if Sir Walter Scott could say this after a week's
work, it is not to be wondered at that Mr. Green, after so brief and
rapid a survey of the city at the heels of an unintelligent guide,
should feel himself slightly confused when, on his return to the
Manor Green, he attempted to give a slight description of the
wonderful sights of Oxford.
There was ~one~ lion of Oxford, however, whose individuality of
expression was too striking either to be forgotten or confused with
the many other lions around. Although (as in Byron's ~Dream~)
"A mass of many images
Crowded like waves upon"
Mr. Green, yet clear and distinct through all there ran
"The stream-like windings of that glorious street,"*
to which one of the first critics of the age+ has given this high
testimony of praise: "The High Street of Oxford has not its equal in
the whole world."
Mr. Green could not, of course, leave Oxford until he had seen his
beloved son in that elegant cap and preposterous gown which
constitute the present academical dress of the Oxford undergraduate;
and to assume which, with a legal right to the same, matriculation is
first necessary. As that amusing and instructive book, the
University Statutes, says in its own delightful and unrivalled
canine Latin, "~Statutum est, quod nemo pro Studente, seu Scholari,
habeatur, nec ullis Universitatis privilegiis, aut beneficiis~" (the
cap and gown, of course, being among these), "~gaudeat, nisi qui in
aliquod Collegium vel Aulam admissus fuerit, et intra quindenam post
talem admissionem in matriculam Universitatis fuerit relatus.~" So
our hero put on the required white tie, and then went forth to
complete his proper costume.
There were so many persons purporting to be "Academical robe-makers,"
that Mr. Green was some little time in deciding who should be the
tradesman favoured with the order for
---
* Wordsworth, Miscellaneous Sonnets.
+ Dr. Waagen, Art and Artists in England.
-=-
[44 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
his son's adornment. At last he fixed upon a shop, the window of
which contained a more imposing display than its neighbours of gowns,
hoods, surplices, and robes of all shapes and colours, from the black
velvet-sleeved proctor's to the blushing gorgeousness of the scarlet
robe and crimson silk sleeves of the D.C.L.
"I wish you," said Mr. Green, advancing towards a smirking
individual, who was in his shirt-sleeves and slippers, but in all
other respects was attired with great magnificence, - "I wish you to
measure this gentleman for his academical robes, and also to allow
him the use of some to be matriculated in."
"Certainly, sir," said the robe-maker, who stood bowing and smirking
before them, - as Hood expressively says,
"Washing his hands with invisible soap,
In imperceptible water;"-
"certainly, sir, if you wish it: but it will scarcely be necessary,
sir; as our custom is so extensive, that we keep a large ready-made
stock constantly on hand."
"Oh, that will do just as well," said Mr. Green; "better, indeed.
Let us see some."
"What description of robe would be required?" said the smirking
gentleman, again making use of the invisible soap; "a scholar's?"
"A scholar's!" repeated Mr. Green, very much wondering at the
question, and imagining that all students must of necessity be also
scholars; "yes, a scholar's, of course."
A scholar's gown was accordingly produced: and its deep, wide
sleeves, and ample length and breadth, were soon displayed to some
advantage on Mr. Verdant Green's tall figure. Reflected in a large
mirror, its charms were seen in their full perfection; and when the
delighted Mr. Green exclaimed, "Why, Verdant, I never saw you look so
well as you do now!" our hero was inclined to think that his father's
words were the words of truth, and that a scholar's gown was indeed
becoming.
The ~tout ensemble~ was complete when the cap had been added to the
gown; more especially as Verdant put it on in such a manner that the
polite robe-maker was obliged to say, "The hother way, if you please,
sir. Immaterial perhaps, but generally preferred. In fact, the
shallow part is ~always~ the forehead, - at least, in Oxford, sir."
While Mr. Green was paying for the cap and gown (N.B. the money of
governors is never refused), the robe-maker smirked, and said,
"Hexcuse the question; but may I hask, sir, if this is the gentleman
that has just gained the Scotland Scholarship?"
"No," replied Mr. Green. "My son has just gained his matriculation,
and, I believe, very creditably; but nothing more, as we only came
here yesterday."
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 45]
"Then I think, sir," said the robe-maker, with redoubled smirks, - "I
think, sir, there is a leetle mistake here. The gentleman will be
hinfringing the University statues, if he wears a scholar's gown and
hasn't got a scholarship; and these robes'll be of no use to the
gentleman, yet awhile at least. It <VG045.JPG> will be an
undergraduate's gown that he requires, sir."
It was fortunate for our hero that the mistake was discovered so
soon, and could be rectified without any of those unpleasant
consequences of iconoclasm to which the robe-maker's infringement of
the "statues" seemed to point; but as that gentleman put the
scholar's gown on one side, and brought out a commoner's, he might
have been heard to mutter, "I don't know which is the freshest, - the
freshman or his guv'nor."
When Mr. Verdant Green once more looked in the glass, and saw hanging
straight from his shoulders a yard of blueish-black stuff, garnished
with a little lappet, and two streamers whose upper parts were
gathered into double plaits, he regretted that he was not indeed a
scholar, if it were only for the privilege of wearing so elegant a
gown. However, his father smiled approvingly, the robe-maker smirked
judiciously; so he came to the gratifying conclusion that the
commoner's gown was by no means ugly, and would be thought a great
deal of at the Manor Green when he took it home at the end of the
term.
Leaving his hat with the robe-maker, who, with many more smirks and
imaginary washings of the hands, hoped to be favoured with the
gentleman's patronage on future occasions, and begged further to
trouble him with a card of his establishment, - our hero proceeded
with his father along the High Street, and turned round by St.
Mary's, and so up Cat Street to the Schools, where they made their
way to the classic
[46 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
"Pig-market,"* to await the arrival of the Vice-Chancellor. When he
came, our freshman and two other white-tied fellow-freshmen were
summoned to the great man's presence; and there, in the ante-chamber
of the Convocation House,+ the edifying and imposing spectacle of
Matriculation was enacted. In the first place, Mr. Verdant Green
took divers oaths, and sincerely promised and swore that he would be
faithful and bear true allegiance to her Majesty Queen Victoria. He
also professed (very much to his own astonishment) that he did "from
his heart abhor, detest, and abjure, as impious and heretical, that
damnable doctrine and position, that princes excommunicated or
deprived by the pope, or any authority of the see of Rome, may be
deposed or murdered by their subjects, or any other whatsoever." And,
having almost lost his breath at this novel "position," Mr. Verdant
Green could only gasp his declaration, "that no foreign prince,
person, prelate, state, or potentate, hath, or ought to have, any
jurisdiction, power, superiority, pre-eminence, or authority,
ecclesiastical or spiritual, within this realm." When he had
sufficiently recovered his presence of mind, Mr. Verdant Green
inserted his name in the University books as "Generosi filius natu
maximus"; and then signed his name to the Thirty-nine Articles, -
though he did not endanger his matriculation, as Theodore Hook did,
by professing his readiness to sign forty if they wished it! Then the
Vice-Chancellor concluded the performance by presenting to the three
freshmen (in the most liberal manner) three brown-looking volumes,
with these words: "Scitote vos in Matriculam Universitatis hodie
relatos esse, sub hac conditione, nempe ut omnia Statuta hoc libro
comprehensa pro virili observetis." And the ceremony was at an end,
and Mr. Verdant Green was a matriculated member of the University of
Oxford. He was far too nervous, - from the weakening effect of the
popes, and the excommunicate princes, and their murderous subjects, -
to be able to translate and understand what the Vice-Chancellor had
said to him, but he
---
* The reason why such a name has been given to the Schools'
quadrangle may be found in the following extract from ~Ingram's
Memorials:~ "The schools built by Abbot Hokenorton being inadequate
to the increasing wants of the University, they applied to the Abbot
of Reading for stone to rebuild them; and in the year 1532 it appears
that considerable sums of money were expended on them; but they went
to decay in the latter part of the reign of Henry VIII, and during
the whole reign of Edward VI. The change of religion having
occasioned a suspension of the usual exercises and scholastic acts in
the University, in the year 1540 only two of these schools were used
by determiners, and within two years after none at all. The whole
area between these schools and the divinity school was subsequently
converted into a garden and ~pig-market~; and the schools themselves,
being completely abandoned by the masters and scholars, were used by
glovers and laundresses."
+ "In apodyterio domui congregationis."
-=-
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 47]
thought his present to be particularly kind; and he found it a copy
of the University Statutes, which he determined forthwith to read and
obey.
Though if he had known that he had sworn to observe statutes which
required him, among other things, to wear garments only of a black or
"subfusk" hue; to abstain from that absurd and proud custom of
walking in public ~in boots~, and the ridiculous one of wearing the
hair long;* - statutes, moreover, which demanded of him to refrain
from all taverns, wine-shops, and houses in which they sold wine or
any other <VG047.JPG> drink, and the herb called nicotiana or
"tobacco"; not to hunt wild beasts with dogs or snares or nets; not
to carry cross-bows or other "bombarding" weapons, or keep hawks for
fowling; not to frequent theatres or the strifes of gladiators; and
only to carry a bow and arrows for the sake of honest recreation;+ -
if Mr. Verdant Green had known that he had covenanted to do this, he
would, perhaps, have felt some scruples in taking the oaths of
matriculation. But this by the way.
Now that Mr. Green had seen all that he wished to see, nothing
remained for him but to discharge his hotel bill. It was accordingly
called for, and produced by the waiter, whose face - by a visitation
of that complaint against which vaccination is usually considered a
safeguard - had been reduced to a
---
* See the Oxford Statutes, tit. xiv, "De vestitu et habitu
scholastico."
+ Ditto, tit. xv, "De moribus conformandis."
-=-
[48 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
state resembling the interior half of a sliced muffin. To judge from
the expression of Mr. Green's features as he regarded the document
that had been put into his hand, it is probable that he had not been
much accustomed to Oxford hotels; for he ran over the several items
of the bill with a look in which surprise contended with indignation
for the mastery, while the muffin-faced waiter handled his plated
salver, and looked fixedly at nothing.
Mr. Green, however, refraining from observations, paid the bill; and,
muffling himself in greatcoat and travelling-cap, he prepared himself
to take a comfortable journey back to Warwickshire, inside the
Birmingham and Oxford coach. It was not loaded in the same way that
it had been when he came up by it, and his fellow-passengers were of
a very different description; and it must be confessed that, in the
absence of Mr. Bouncer's tin horn, the attacks of intrusive terriers,
and the involuntary fumigation of himself with tobacco (although its
presence was still perceptible within the coach), Mr. Green found his
journey ~from~ Oxford much more agreeable than it had been ~to~ that
place. He took an affectionate farewell of his son, somewhat after
the manner of the "heavy fathers" of the stage; and then the coach
bore him away from the last lingering look of our hero, who felt any
thing but heroic <VG048.JPG> at being left for the first time in his
life to shift for himself. His luggage had been sent up to
Brazenface, so thither he turned his steps, and with some little
difficulty found his room. Mr. Filcher had partly unpacked his
master's things, and had left everything uncomfortable and in "the
most admired disorder"; and Mr. Verdant Green sat himself down upon
the "practicable" window-seat, and resigned himself to his thoughts.
If they had not already flown to the Manor Green, they would soon
have been carried there; for a German band, just outside the
college-gates, began to play "Home, sweet home," with that truth and
delicacy of expression which the wandering minstrels of Germany seem
to acquire intuitively. The sweet melancholy
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 49]
of the simple air, as it came subdued by distance into softer tones,
would have powerfully affected most people who had just been torn
from the bosom of their homes, to fight, all inexperienced, the
battle of life; but it had such an effect on Mr. Verdant Green, that
- but it little matters saying ~what~ he did; many people will give
way to feelings in private that they would stifle in company; and if
Mr. Filcher on his return found his master wiping his spectacles, why
that was only a simple proceeding which all glasses frequently
require.
To divert his thoughts, and to impress upon himself and others the
fact that he was an Oxford MAN, our freshman set out for a stroll;
and as the unaccustomed feeling of the gown <VG049.JPG> about his
shoulders made him feel somewhat embarrassed as to the carriage of
his arms, he stepped into a shop on the way and purchased a light
cane, which he considered would greatly add to the effect of the cap
and gown. Armed with this weapon, he proceeded to disport himself in
the Christ Church meadows, and promenaded up and down the Broad Walk.
The beautiful meadows lay green and bright in the sun; the arching
trees threw a softened light, and made a chequered pavement of the
great Broad Walk; "witch-elms ~did~ counter-change the floor" of the
gravel-walks that wound with the windings of the Cherwell; the
drooping willows were mirrored in its stream; through openings in the
trees there were glimpses of grey, old college-buildings; then came
the walk along the banks, the Isis shining like molten silver, and
fringed around with barges and boats; then another stretch of green
meadows; then a cloud of steam from the railway-station; and a
background of gently-rising hills. It was a cheerful scene, and the
variety of figures gave life and animation to the whole.
Young ladies and unprotected females were found in abundance, dressed
in all the engaging variety of light spring dresses; and, as may be
supposed, our hero attracted a great deal of their attention, and
afforded them no small amusement. But the unusual and terrific
appearance of a spectacled
[50 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
<VG050-1.JPG> gownsman with a cane produced the greatest alarm among
the juveniles, who imagined our freshman to be a new description
<VG050-2.JPG>
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 51]
of beadle or Bogy, summoned up by the exigencies of the times to
preserve a rigorous discipline among the young people; and, regarding
his cane as the symbol of his stern sway, they harassed their
nursemaids by unceasingly charging at their petticoats for protection.
Altogether, Mr. Verdant Green made quite a sensation.