[D] An anecdote of Ben Jonson (possibly from some Book of Jests) is
communicated to me by Professor York Powell as still current in Oxford
in oral tradition:--
'One day as Ben Jonson was working at his first trade a fine lady
passed and greeted him--
"A line and a trowel
Guide many a fool:
Good morning, Ben!"
--"In silk and scarlet
Walks many a harlot:
Good morning, Madam!"
answered the poet.'
[E] Aubrey, writing Aug. 7, 1680, in Wood MS. F. 39, fol. 343,
says:--'Pray ask the deane of Welles what countreyman Ben Johnson was.
To my best remembrance I heard him say (1648) Warwickshire; and I have
heard some say that he was of Trinity College Cambridge.'
[F] This is an autograph letter by Izaak Walton, with a heading (here
in italic) added by Aubrey.
=John Kersey= (1616-167-?).
[55]John Kersey, borne at Bodicot in Oxfordshire neer Banbury, anno
domini 1616. Scripsit;--Arithmetique, 8vo; and two volumes of Algebra,
folio.
Obiit in Shandos street, London, neer St. Martin's lane, anno domini
167-. He died of a consumption.
He did survey.
=Ralph Kettell= (1563-1643).
[56]Ralph Kettle, D.D., praeses Coll. Trin. Oxon., was borne at <King's
Langley> in Hertfordshire.
The lady Elizabeth Pope brought him in to be a scholar of the house at
eleaven yeares of age[G] (as I have heard Dr. Ralph Bathurst say).
I have heard Dr. Whistler[57] say that he wrote good Latin, and Dr.
Ralph Bathurst (whose grandmother, ... Villers, he maried), that he
scolded the best in Latin of any one that ever he knew. He was of an
admirable healthy constitution.
He dyed a yeare + after I came to the Colledge, and he was then a
good deale above 80 (quaere aetatem), and he had then a fresh ruddy
complexion. He was a very tall well growne man. His gowne and surplice
and hood being on, he had a terrible gigantique aspect, with his sharp
gray eies. The ordinary gowne he wore was a russet cloath gowne.
He was, they say, white[58] very soon; he had a very venerable
presence, and was an excellent governour. One of his maximes of
governing was to keepe-downe the _juvenilis impetus_[VI.]. He was
chosen President anno Domini <1598/9> the second after the foundation
of the College.
[VI.] 'Tis Seneca's expression.
He was a right Church of England man, and every Tuesday, in terme
time, in the morning, the undergraduates (I have forgott if baccalaurs)
were to come into the chapell and heare him expound on the 36
Articles[59] of the Church of England. I remember he was wont to talke
much of the rood-loft, and of the wafers: he remembred those times. On
these dayes, if any one had committed a fault, he should be sure to
heare of it in the chapell before his fellow collegiates.
<On[60] these days, he would be sure to> have at him that had a white
cap on; for he concluded him to have been drunke, and his head to
ake. Sir[61] John Denham had borrowed money of Mr. Whistler, the
recorder[62], and, after a great while, the recorder askt him for
it again. Mr. Denham laught at it, and told him he never intended
that. The recorder acquainted the President, who, at a lecture in the
chapell, rattled him, and told him, 'Thy father,' (judge[63]) 'haz
hanged many an honester man.' In my time, Mr. Anthony Ettrick and some
others frighted a poor young freshman of Magd. Hall with conjuring,
which when the old Dr. heard of: on the next Tuesday, sayd he, 'Mr.
Ettrick'--who is a very little man--'will conjure up a jackanapes to be
his great-grand-father.'
He sawe how the factious in religion in those dayes drew, and he kept
himselfe unconcerned. W. Laud, archbishop of Canterbury, sent him
one time a servant of his with venison, which the old Dr. with much
earnestnes refused, and sayd that he was an old man, and his stomach
weake, and he had not eaten of such meate in a long time, and by no
meanes would accept of it; but the servant was as much pressing it on
him on the other side, and told the President that he durst not carry
it back[64] againe. Well, seing there was no avoyding it, the President
asked the servant seriously, if the archbishop of Canterbury intended
to putt in any scholars or fellowes[65] into his College?
Mr. ... ... one of the fellowes (in Mr. Francis Potter's time) was
wont to say, that Dr. Kettel's braine was like a _hasty-pudding, where
there was memorie, judgement, and phancy all stirred together_. He
had all these faculties in great measure, but they were all just so
jumbled together. If you had to doe with him, taking him for a foole,
you would have found in him great subtilty and reach: _è contra_, if
you treated with him as a wise man, you would have mistaken him for a
foole. A neighbour of mine (Mr. La<urence> St. Low[H]) told me he heard
him preach once in St. Marie's Church, at Oxon. He began thus: 'being
my turne to preach in this place, I went into my study to prepare my
selfe for my sermon, and I tooke downe a booke that had blew strings,
and look't in it,[66]and 'twas sweet Saint Bernard. I chanced to read
such a part of it, on such a subject, which haz made me to choose this
text----.' I know not whether this was the only time or no that he used
this following way of conclusion:--'But now I see it is time for me to
shutt up my booke, for I see the doctors' men come-in wiping of their
beardes from the ale-house.'--(He could from the pulpit plainly see
them, and 'twas their custome in sermon to go there, and about the end
of sermon to returne to wayte on their masters).
He had two wives, if not three, but no child (quaere). His second wife
was a Villiers, or rather (I thinke) the widowe of ... Villers, esq.,
who had two beautifull daughters, co-heires. The eldest, whom severall
of good estate[67] would gladly have wedded, he would needs dispose of
himselfe, and he thought nobody so fitt a husband for this angelique
creature as one Mr. Bathurst, of the College, a second brother, and of
about 300 _li._ per annum, but an indifferent scholar, red fac'd, not
at all handsome.
But the Doctor's fashion was to goe up and down the college, and peepe
in at the key-holes to see whether the boyes did follow their books or
no. He seldome found Bathurst minding of his booke, but mending of his
old doublet or breeches. He was very thrifty and penurious, and upon
this reason he caried away this curious creature. But she was very
happy in her issue; all her children were ingeniose and prosperous[68]
in the world, and most of them beautifull.
About ... (neer 70 yeares since, I suppose,) one Mr. Isham (elder
brother to Sir Justinian Isham), a gentleman-commoner of this howse,
dyed of the small pox. He was a very fine gentleman, and very well
beloved by all the colledge, and severall of the fellowes would have
preacht his funerall sermon, but Dr. Kettle would not permitt it, but
would doe it himselfe; which the fellowes were sorry for, for they knew
he would make a ridiculous piece of worke of it. But preach the Dr.
did: takes a text and preaches on it a little while; and then takes
another text, for the satisfaction of the young gentleman's mother;
and anon he takes another text, for the satisfaction of the young
gentleman's grandmother. When he came to the panegyrique, sayd he, 'He
was the finest, swet[69] young gentleman; it did doe my heart good
to see him walke along the quadrangle. Wee have an old proverbe that
_Hungry dogges will eate dirty puddings_; but I must needes say for
this young gentleman, that he always loved[VII.] _sweet_'--he spake it
with a squeaking voice--'things,'--and there was an end.
[VII.] They were wont to mock me with this[70].
He observed that the howses that had the smallest beer had most
drunkards, for it forced them to goe into the town to comfort their
stomachs; wherfore Dr. Kettle alwayes had in his College excellent
beer, not better to be had in Oxon; so that we could not goe to any
other place but for the worse, and we had the fewest drunkards of any
howse in Oxford.
He was constantly at lectures and exercises in the hall to observe
them, and brought along with him his hower-glasse; and one time, being
offended at the boyes, he threatned them, that if they would not doe
their exercise better he 'would bring an hower-glass two howers long.'
He was irreconcileable to long haire; called them hairy scalpes, and
as for periwigges (which were then very rarely worne) he beleeved[71]
them to be the scalpes of men cutt off after they were hang'd, and so
tanned and dressed for use. When he observed the scolars' haire longer
then ordinary (especially if they were scholars of the howse), he would
bring a paire of cizers in his muffe (which he commonly wore), and woe
be to them that sate on the outside of the table[I]. I remember he cutt
Mr. Radford's[72] haire with the knife that chipps the bread on the
buttery-hatch, and then he sang (this is in the old play--Henry VIII<'s
time>--of _Grammar[73] Gurton's needle_)
'And was not Grim the collier finely trimm'd?
Tonedi, Tonedi.'
'Mr.[J] Lydall,' sayd he, 'how doe you decline _tondeo_? Tondeo,
tondes, tonedi?'
One time walking by the table where the Logick lecture was read, where
the reader was telling the boyes that a syllogisme might be true _quoad
formam_, but not _quoad materiam_; said the President (who would
putt-in sometimes), 'There was a fox had spyed a crowe upon a tree,
and he had a great mind to have him[74], and so getts under the tree
in a hope, and layes out his tayle crooked like a horne, thinking the
crowe might come and peck at it, and then he would seise him. Now come
we' (this[75] was his word), 'I say the foxe's tayle is a horne: is
this a true proposition or no?' (to one of the boyes). 'Yes,' sayd he
(the Dr. expected he should have sayd No; for it putt him out of his
designe); 'Why then,' said he, 'take him and toot him'; and away he
went.
He dragg'd with one (i.e. right[76]) foot a little, by which he
gave warning (like the rattlesnake) of his comeing. Will. Egerton
(Major-Generall Egerton's younger brother), a good witt and mimick,
would goe so like him, that sometime he would make the whole chapell
rise up, imagining he had been entring in.
As they were reading of inscribing and circumscribing figures, sayd
he,'I will shew you how to inscribe a triangle in a quadrangle. Bring a
pig into the quadrangle, and I will sett the colledge dog at him, and
he will take the pig by the eare; then come I and take the dog by the
tayle, and the hog by the tayle, and so there you have a triangle in a
quadrangle; _quod erat faciendum_.'
He preach't every Sunday at his parsonage at Garsington (about 5 miles
off). He rode on his bay gelding, with his boy Ralph before him, with a
leg of mutton (commonly) and some colledge bread. He did not care for
the countrey revells, because they tended to debauchery. Sayd he, at
Garsington revell, 'Here is Hey for Garsington! and Hey for Cuddesdon!
and Hey Hockly! but here's nobody cries, Hey for God Almighty!'
Upon Trinity Sunday (our festival day) he would commonly preach at the
Colledge, whither a number of the scholars of other howses would come,
to laugh at him. In his prayer (where he was of course to remember Sir
Thomas Pope, our founder, and the lady Elizabeth his wife, deceasd), he
would many times make a willfull mistake, and say, 'Sir Thomas Pope our
_Confounder_[77],' but then presently recall himselfe.
He was a person of great charity. In his college, where he observed
diligent boyes that he ghessed had but a slender exhibition from their
friends, he would many times putt money in at their windowes; that his
right hand did not know what his left did.[78]Servitors that wrote
good hands he would sett on worke to transcribe for him and reward them
generosely, and give them good advise. Mris. Howe, of Grendon, sent
him a present of hippocris, and some fine cheese-cakes, by a plain
countrey fellow, her servant. The Dr. tastes the wine:--'What,' sayd
he, 'didst thou take this drinke[79] out of a ditch?' and when he saw
the cheese-cakes:--'What have we here, _crinkum, crankum_?' The poor
fellow stared on him, and wondered at such a rough reception of such
a handsome present; but he shortly made him amends with a good dinner
and halfe-a-crowne. The parsonage of Garsington (which belongs to the
college) is worth ... per annum, and this good old Doctor, when one of
his parish[80], that was an honest industrious man, happened by any
accident to be in decay and lowe in the world, would let his parsonage
to him for a yeare, two, or three, fourty pounds a yeare under value.
In his younger yeares he had been chaplain to <Thomas> Bilson, bishop
of Winton.
In August, 1642, the lord viscount Say and Seale came (by order of
the Parliament) to visit the colleges, to see what of new Popery they
could discover in the chapells. In our chapell, on the backside of the
skreen, had been two altars (of painting well enough for those times,
and the colours were admirably fresh and lively). That on the right
hand as you enter the chapell was dedicated to St. Katharine, that on
the left was of the taking our Saviour off from the crosse. My lord Say
sawe that this was donne of old time, and Dr. Kettle told his lordship
'Truly, my Lord, we regard them no more then a dirty dish-clout'; so
they remained untoucht, till Harris's time[81], and then were coloured
over with green. The windowes of the chapell were good Gothique
painting, in every columne a figure;--e.g. St. Cuthbert, St. Leonard,
St. Oswald. I have forgott the rest. 'Tis pitty they should be lost.
I have a note of all the scutcheons in glasse about the house. 'Twas
pitty Dr. Bathurst tooke the old painted glasse out of the library.
Anciently, in the chapell, was a little organ over the dore of the
skreen. The pipes were, in my time, in the bursery.
[82]Memorandum:--till Oxford was surrendred we sang the reading psalmes
on Sundayes, holy-dayes, and holy-day eves; and one of the scholars
of the house sang the ghospell for the day in the hall, at the latter
end of dinner, and concluded, _Sic desinit Evangelium secundum beatum
Johannem_ (or etc.): _tu autem, Domine, miserere nostri_.
He <Kettle> sang a shrill high treble; but there was one (J.
Hoskyns[K]) who had a higher, and would play the wag with the Dr. to
make him straine his voice up to his.
[83]Memorandum:--there was in my time a rich pall[84] to lay on a
coffin, of crimson velvet, with a large plaine crosse on it of white
silke or sattin.
[85]'Tis probable this venerable Dr. might have lived some yeares
longer, and finisht his century, had not those civill warres come on:
which much grieved him, that was wont to be absolute in the colledge,
to be affronted and disrespected by rude soldiers. I remember, being
at the Rhetorique lecture in the hall, a foot-soldier came in and[86]
brake his hower-glasse. The Dr. indeed was just stept out, but Jack
Dowch[L] pointed at it. Our grove was the Daphne for the ladies
and their gallants to walke in, and many times my lady Isabella
Thynne[VIII.] would make her entrey with a theorbo or lute played
before her. I have heard her play on it in the grove myselfe, which she
did rarely; for which Mr. Edmund Waller hath in his Poems for ever made
her famous. One may say of her as Tacitus sayd of Agrippina, _Cuncta
alia illi adfuere, praeter animum honestum_. She was most beautifull,
most humble, charitable, etc. but she could not subdue one thing. I
remember one time this lady and fine Mris. Fenshawe[IX.] (her great
and intimate friend, who lay at our college), would have a frolick to
make a visitt to the President. The old Dr. quickly perceived that
they came to abuse him; he addresses his discourse to Mris. Fenshawe,
saying, 'Madam, your husband[M] and father I bred up here, and I knew
your grandfather; I know you to be a gentlewoman, I will not say you
are a whore; but gett you gonne for a very woman.' The dissolutenesse
of the times, as I have sayd, grieving the good old Doctor, his dayes
were shortned, and dyed <July> anno Domini 1643, and was buried at
Garsington: quaere his epitaph.
[VIII.] <She> lay at Balliol College.
[IX.] She was wont, and my lady Thynne, to come to our Chapell,
mornings, halfe dressd, like angells.
Seneca's scholar Nero found fault with his style, saying 'twas _arena
sine calce_: now Dr. Kettle was wont to say that 'Seneca writes, as a
boare does pisse,' scilicet, by jirkes.
I cannot forget a story that Robert Skinner, lord bishop of Oxford,
haz told us:--one Slymaker[N], a fellow of this College long since,
a fellow of great impudence, and little learning--the fashion was in
those dayes to goe, every Satterday night (I thinke), to Joseph Barnes'
shop, the bookeseller (opposite to the west end of St. Mary's), where
the newes was brought from London, etc.--this impudent clowne would
alwayes be hearkning to people's whisperings and overlooking their
letters, that he was much taken notice of. Sir Isaac Wake, who was
a very witty man, was resolved he would putt a trick upon him, and
understood that such a Sunday Slymaker was to preach at St. Mary's. So
Sir Isaac, the Saterday before, reades a very formall lettre to some
person of quality, that cardinal Baronius was turned Protestant, and
was marching with an army of 40,000 men against the Pope. Slymaker
hearkned with greedy eares, and the next day in his prayer before
his sermon[O], beseeched God[87]'of his infinite mercy and goodnesse
to give a blessing to the army of cardinall Baronius, who was turnd
Protestant, and now marching with an army of forty thousand men,'
and so runnes on: he had a Stentorian voice, and thunderd it out. The
auditors all stared and were amazed: ... Abbot (afterwards bishop of
Sarum[88]) was then Vice-cancellor, and when Slymaker came out of the
pulpit, sends for him, and asked his name: 'Slymaker,' sayd he; 'No,'
sayd the Vice-canc., ''tis _Lyemaker_.'
Dr. Kettle, when he scolded at the idle young boies of his colledge, he
used these names, viz. _Turds_, _Tarrarags_ (these were the worst sort,
rude rakells), _Rascal-Jacks_, _Blindcinques_, _Scobberlotchers_ (these
did no hurt, were sober, but went idleing about the grove with their
hands in their pocketts, and telling the number of the trees there, or
so).
[89]To make you merry I'le tell you a story that Dr. Henry Birket[90]
told us tother day at his cosen <Thomas> Mariet's, scilicet that about
1638 or 1640 when he was of Trinity College, Dr. Kettle, preaching
as he was wont to doe on Trinity Sunday, told 'em that they should
keepe their bodies chast and holy: 'but,' said he, 'you fellows of the
College here eate good commons and drinke good double-beer ... and that
will gett-out.' How would the good old Dr. have raunted and beat-up his
kettle-drum, if he should have seen such luxury in the College as there
is now! Tempora mutantur.
_Notes._