MR. VERDANT GREEN DINES, BREAKFASTS, AND GOES TO CHAPEL.
OUR hero dressed himself with great care, that he might make his
first appearance in Hall with proper ~eclat~ - and, having made his
way towards the lantern-surmounted building, he walked up the steps
and under the groined archway with a crowd of hungry undergraduates
who were hurrying in to dinner. The clatter of plates would have
alone been sufficient to guide his steps; and, passing through one
of the doors in the elaborately carved screen that shut off the
passage and the buttery, he found himself within the hall of
Brazenface. It was of noble size, lighted by lofty windows, and
carried up to a great height by an open roof, dark (save where it
opened to the lantern) with great oak beams, and rich with carved
pendants and gilded bosses. The ample fire-places displayed the
capaciousness of those collegiate mouths of "the wind-pipes of
hospitality," and gave an idea of the dimensions of the kitchen
ranges. In the centre of the hall was a huge plate-warmer,
elaborately worked in brass with the college arms. Founders and
benefactors were seen, or suggested, on all sides; their arms gleamed
from the windows in all the glories of stained glass; and their faces
peered out from the massive gilt frames on the walls, as though their
shadows loved to linger about the spot that had been benefited by
their substance. At the further end of the hall a deep bay-window
threw its painted light upon a dais, along which stretched the table
for the Dons; Masters and Bachelors occupied side-tables; and the
other tables were filled up by the undergraduates; every one, from
the Don downwards, being in his gown.
Our hero was considerably impressed with the (to him) singular
character of the scene; and from the "Benedictus benedicat"
grace-before-meat to the "Benedicto benedicamur" after-meat, he gazed
curiously around him in silent wonderment. So much indeed was he
wrapped up in the novelty of the scene, that he ran a great risk of
losing his dinner. The scouts fled about in all directions with
plates, and glasses, and pewter dishes, and massive silver mugs that
had gone round the tables
[52 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
for the last two centuries, and still no one waited upon Mr. Verdant
Green. He twice ventured to timidly say, "Waiter!" but as no one
answered to his call, and as he was too bashful and occupied with his
own thoughts to make another attempt, it is probable that he would
have risen from dinner as unsatisfied as when he sat down, had not
his right-hand companion (having partly relieved his own wants)
perceived his neighbour to be a freshman, and kindly said to him, "I
think you'd better begin your dinner, because we don't stay here
long. <VG052.JPG>
What is your scout's name?" And when he had been told it, he turned
to Mr. Filcher and asked him, "What the doose he meant by not waiting
on his master?" which, with the addition of a few gratuitous threats,
had the effect of bringing that gentleman to his master's side, and
reducing Mr. Verdant Green to a state of mind in which gratitude to
his companion and a desire to beg his scout's pardon were confusedly
blended. Not seeing any dishes upon the table to select from, he
referred to the list, and fell back on the standard roast beef.
"I am sure I am very much obliged to you," said Verdant, turning to
his friendly neighbour. "My rooms are next to yours, and I had the
pleasure of being driven by you on the coach the other day."
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 53]
"Oh!" said Mr. Fosbrooke, for it was he; "ah, I remember you now! I
suppose the old bird was your governor. ~He~ seemed to think it
any thing but a pleasure, being driven by Four-in-hand Fosbrooke."
"Why, pap - my father - is rather nervous on a coach," replied
Verdant: "he was bringing me to college for the first time." "Then
you are the man that has just come into Smalls' old rooms? Oh, I
see. Don't you ever drink with your dinner? If you don't holler for
your rascal, he'll never half wait upon you. Always bully them well
at first, and then they learn manners."
So, by way of commencing the bullying system without loss of time,
our hero called out very fiercely "Robert!" and then, as Mr. Filcher
glided to his side, he timidly dropped his tone into a mild "Glass of
water, if you please, Robert."
He felt rather relieved when dinner was over, and retired at once to
his own rooms; where, making a rather quiet and sudden entrance, he
found them tenanted by an old woman, who wore a huge bonnet tilted on
the top of her head, and was busily and dubiously engaged at one of
his open boxes. "Ahem!" he coughed, at which note of warning the old
lady jumped round very quickly, and said, - dabbing curtseys where
there were stops, like the beats of a conductor's ~baton~, - "Law
bless me, sir. It's beggin' your parding that I am. Not seein' you
a comin' in. Bein' 'ard of hearin' from a hinfant. And havin' my
back turned. I was just a puttin' your things to rights, sir. If
you please, sir, I'm Mrs. Tester. Your bed-maker, sir."
"Oh, thank you," said our freshman, with the shadow of a suspicion that
Mrs. Tester was doing something more than merely "putting to rights"
the pots of jam and marmalade, and the packages of tea and coffee,
which his doting mother had thoughtfully placed in his box as a
provision against immediate distress. "Thank you."
"I've done my rooms, sir," dabbed Mrs. Tester. "Which if thought
agreeable, I'd stay and put these things in their places. Which it
certainly is Robert's place. But I never minds putting myself out.
As I always perpetually am minded. So long as I can obleege the
gentlemen."
So, as our hero was of a yielding disposition, and could, under
skilful hands, easily be moulded into any form, he allowed Mrs.
Tester to remain, and conclude the unpacking and putting away of his
goods, in which operations she displayed great generalship.
"You've a deal of tea and coffee, sir," she said, keeping time by
curtseys. "Which it's a great blessin' to have a mother. And not to
be left dissolute like some gentlemen. And tea
[54 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
and coffee is what I mostly lives on. And mortial dear it is to poor
folks. And a package the likes of this, sir, were a blessin' I should
never even dream on."
"Well, then," said Verdant, in a most benevolent mood, "you can take
one of the packages for your trouble."
Upon this, Mrs. Tester appeared to be greatly overcome. "Which I
once had a son myself," she said. "And as fine a young man as you
are, sir. With a strawberry mark in the small of his back. And
beautiful red whiskers, sir; with a tendency to drink. Which it were
his rewing, and took him to be enlisted for a sojer. When he went
across the seas to the West Injies. And was took with the yaller
fever, and buried there. Which the remembrance, sir, brings on my
spazzums. To which I'm an hafflicted martyr, sir. And can only be
heased with three spots of brandy on a lump of sugar. Which your
good mother, sir, has put a bottle of brandy. Along with the jam and
the clean linen, sir. As though a purpose for my complaint. Ugh!
oh!"
And Mrs. Tester forthwith began pressing and thumping her sides in
such a terrific manner, and appeared to be undergoing such internal
agony, that Mr. Verdant Green not only gave her brandy there and
then, for her immediate relief - "which it heases the spazzums
deerectly, bless you," observed Mrs. Tester, parenthetically; but
also told her where she could find the bottle, in case she should
again be attacked when in his rooms; attacks which, it is needless to
say, were repeated at every subsequent visit. Mrs. Tester then
finished putting away the tea and coffee, and entered into further
particulars about her late son; though what connection there was
between him and the packages of tea, our hero could not perceive.
Nevertheless he was much interested with her narrative, and thought
Mrs. Tester a very affectionate, motherly sort of woman; more
especially, when (Robert having placed his tea-things on the table)
she showed him how to make the tea; an apparently simple feat that
the freshman found himself perfectly unable to accomplish. And then
Mrs. Tester made a final dab, and her exit, and our hero sat over his
tea as long as he could, because it gave an idea of cheerfulness; and
then, after directing Robert to be sure not to forget to call him in
time for morning chapel, he retired to bed.
The bed was very hard, and so small, that, had it not been for the
wall, our hero's legs would have been visible (literally) at the
foot; but despite these novelties, he sank into a sound rest, which
at length passed into the following dream. He thought that he was
back again at dinner at the Manor Green, but that the room was
curiously like the hall of Brazenface, and that Mrs. Tester and Dr.
Portman were on either side of
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 55]
him, with Mr. Fosbrooke and Robert talking to his sisters; and that
he was reaching his hand to help Mrs. Tester to a packet of tea,
which her son had sent them from the West Indies, when he threw over
a wax-light, and set every thing on fire; and that the parish engine
came up; and that there was a great noise, and a loud hammering; and,
"Eh? yes! oh! the half-hour is it? Oh, yes! thank you!" And Mr.
Verdant Green sprang out of bed much relieved in mind to find
<VG055.JPG> that the alarm of fire was nothing more than his scout
knocking vigorously at his door, and that it was chapel-time.
"Want any warm water, sir?" asked Mr. Filcher, putting his head in at
the door.
"No, thank you," replied our hero; "I - I -"
"Shave with cold. Ah! I see, sir. It's much 'ealthier, and makes the
'air grow. But any thing as you ~does~ want, sir, you've only to
call."
"If there is any thing that I want, Robert," said Verdant, "I will
ring."
"Bless you, sir," observed Mr. Filcher, "there ain't no bells never
in colleges! They'd be rung off their wires in no time. Mr. Bouncer,
sir, he uses a trumpet like they does on board ship. By the same
token, that's it, sir!" And Mr. Filcher vanished, just in time to
prevent little Mr. Bouncer from finishing a furious solo, from an
entirely new version of ~Robert le Diable~, which he was giving with
novel effects through the medium of a speaking-trumpet.
Verdant found his bed-room inconveniently small; so
[56 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
contracted, indeed, in its dimensions, that his toilette was not
completed without his elbows having first suffered severe abrasions.
His mechanical turnip showed him that he had no time to lose, and the
furious ringing of a bell, whose noise was echoed by the bells of
other colleges, made him dress with a rapidity quite unusual, and
hurry down stairs and across quad. to the chapel steps, up which a
throng of students were hastening. Nearly all betrayed symptoms of
having been aroused from their sleep without having had any spare
time <VG056.JPG> for an elaborate toilette, and many, indeed, were
completing it, by thrusting themselves into surplices and gowns as
they hurried up the steps.
Mr. Fosbrooke was one of these; and when he saw Verdant close to him,
he benevolently recognized him, and said, "Let me put you up to a
wrinkle. When they ring you up sharp for chapel, don't you lose any
time about your absolutions, - washing, you know; but just jump into a
pair of bags and Wellingtons; clap a top-coat on you, and button it
up to the chin, and there you are, ready dressed in the twinkling of
a bed-post."
Before Mr. Verdant Green could at all comprehend why a person should
jump into two bags, instead of dressing himself in the normal manner,
they went through the ante-chapel, or "Court of the Gentiles," as Mr.
Fosbrooke termed it, and entered the choir of the chapel through a
screen elaborately decorated in the Jacobean style, with pillars and
arches, and festoons of fruit and flowers, and bells and
pomegranates. On either side of the door were two men, who quickly
glanced
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 57]
at each one who passed, and as quickly pricked a mark against his
name on the chapel lists. As the freshman went by, they made a
careful study of his person, and took mental daguerreotypes of his
features. Seeing no beadle, or pew-opener (or, for the matter of
that, any pews), or any one to direct him to a place, Mr. Verdant
Green quietly took a seat in the first place that he found empty,
which happened to be the stall on the <VG057.JPG> right hand of the
door. Unconscious of the trespass he was committing, he at once put
his cap to his face and knelt down; but he had no sooner risen from
his knees, than he found an imposing-looking Don, as large as life
and quite as natural, who was staring at him with the greatest
astonishment, and motioning him to immediately "come out of that!"
This our hero did with the greatest speed and confusion, and sank
breathless on the end of the nearest bench; when, just as in his
agitation, he had again said his prayer, the service fortunately
commenced, and somewhat relieved him of his embarrassment.
Although he had the glories of Magdalen, Merton, and New
[58 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
College chapels fresh in his mind, yet Verdant was considerably
impressed with the solemn beauties of his own college chapel. He
admired its harmonious proportions, and the elaborate carving of its
decorated tracery. He noted every thing: the great eagle that seemed
to be spreading its wings for an upward flight, - the pavement of
black and white marble, - the dark canopied stalls, rich with the
later work of Grinling Gibbons, - the elegant tracery of the windows;
and he lost himself in <VG058.JPG> a solemn reverie as he looked up
at the saintly forms through which the rays of the morning sun
streamed in rainbow tints.
But the lesson had just begun; and the man on Verdant's right
appeared to be attentively following it. Our freshman, however,
could not help seeing the book, and, much to his astonishment, he
found it to be a Livy, out of which his neighbour was getting up his
morning's lecture. He was still more astonished, when the lesson had
come to an end, by being suddenly pulled back when he attempted to
rise, and finding the streamers of his gown had been put to a use
never intended for them, by being tied round the finial of the stall
behind him, - the silly work of a boyish gentleman, who, in his desire
to play off a practical joke on a freshman, forgot the sacredness of
the place where college rules compelled him to shew himself on
morning parade.
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 59]
Chapel over, our hero hurried back to his rooms, and there, to his
great joy, found a budget of letters from home; and surely the little
items of intelligence that made up the news of the Manor Green had
never seemed to possess such interest as now! The reading and
re-reading of these occupied him during the whole of breakfast-time;
and Mr. Filcher found him still engaged in perusing them when he came
to clear away the things. Then it was that Verdant discovered the
extended meaning that the word "perquisites" possesses in the eyes of
<VG059.JPG> a scout, for, to a remark that he had made, Robert
replied in a tone of surprise, "Put away these bits o' things as is
left, sir!" and then added, with an air of mild correction, "you see,
sir, you's fresh to the place, and don't know that gentlemen never
likes that sort o' thing done ~here~, sir; but you gets your commons,
sir, fresh and fresh every morning and evening, which must be much
more agreeable to the 'ealth than a heating of stale bread and such
like. No, sir!" continued Mr. Filcher, with a manner that was truly
parental, "no sir! you trust to me, sir, and I'll take care of your
things, I will." And from the way that he carried off the eatables,
it seemed probable that he would make good his words. But our
freshman felt considerable awe of his scout, and murmuring broken
accents, that sounded like "ignorance - customs - University," he
[60 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
endeavoured, by a liberal use of his pocket-handkerchief, to appear
as if he were not blushing.
As Mr. Slowcoach had told him that he would not have to begin
lectures until the following day, and as the Greek play fixed for the
lecture was one with which he had been made well acquainted by Mr.
Larkyns, Verdant began to consider what he could do with himself,
when the thought of Mr. Larkyns suggested the idea that his son
Charles had probably by this time returned to college. He
determined therefore <VG060.JPG> at once to go in search of him;
and looking out a letter which the rector had commissioned him to
deliver to his son, he inquired of Robert, if he was aware whether Mr.
Charles Larkyns had come back from his holidays.
"'Ollidays, sir?," said Mr. Filcher. "Oh! I see, sir! Vacation, you
mean, sir. Young gentlemen as is ~men~, sir, likes to call their
'ollidays by a different name to boys', sir. Yes, sir, Mr. Charles
Larkyns, he come up last arternoon, sir; but he and Mr. Smalls, the
gent as he's been down with this vacation, the same as had these
rooms, sir, they didn't come to 'All, sir, but went and had their
dinners comfortable at the Star, sir; and very pleasant they made
theirselves; and Thomas, their scout, sir, has had quite a horder for
sober-water this morning, sir."
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 61]
With somewhat of a feeling of wonder how one scout contrived to know
so much of the proceedings of gentlemen who were waited on by another
scout, and wholly ignorant of his allusion to his fellow-servant's
dealings in soda-water, Mr. Verdant Green inquired where he could
find Mr. Larkyns, and as the rooms were but just on the other side of
the quad., he put on his hat, and made his way to them. The scout
was just going into the room, so our hero gave a tap at the door and
followed him.