THE TOAST
Terrae Filius sums her up--Merton Wall butterflies--Hearne
comments--Flavia and the orange tree--Dick, the sloven--The President
under her thumb--Amhurst’s table of cons.--King Charles and the other
place.
What is an Oxford toast? For answer I cannot do better than turn to that
Oxford _Encyclopædia_, Terrae Filius, who from the ambush of his
anonymity, directed his fire upon all toasts with unerring aim and deadly
effect.
“She is born, as the King says, of mean estate, being the daughter of some
insolent mechanick, who fancies himself a gentleman and resolves to keep
up his family by marrying his girl to a parson or a schoolmaster; to which
end, he and his wife call her pretty miss, as soon as she knows what it
means, and sends her to the dancing school to learn how to hold up her
head, and turn out her toes; she is taught from a child not to play with
any of the dirty boys and girls in the neighbourhood; but to mind her
dancing, and have a great respect for the gown. This foundation being
laid, she goes on fast enough of herself, without any farther assistance,
except an hoop, a gay suit of cloaths, and two or three new holland
smocks. Thus equipt, she frequents all the balls and publick walks in
Oxford; where it is a great chance if she does not, in time, meet with
some raw coxcomb or other, who is her humble servant; waits upon her home,
calls upon her again the next day; dangles after her from place to place;
and is at last, with some art and management, drawn in to marry her.
“She has impudence--therefore she has wit;
She is proud--therefore she is well bred;
She has fine Cloaths--therefore she is genteel;
She would fain be a wife-and therefore she is not a Wh--re.”
Amhurst also informed his readers that they appeared principally in
summer, like butterflies, when they flitted from flower to flower of the
Smarts under Merton Wall. “The toasts,” he remarked, “are scouring up and
new-trimming their best gowns and petticoats against the summer, and
intend to make a splendid appearance.” These ladies were an extremely
conspicuous feature of Undergraduate life. In the description of the
Smart’s day we are told how after chapel he drank tea with some celebrated
toast, and then waited upon her to Maudlin Grove or Paradise Garden and
back again. Afterwards, when drowning his sorrows at the particular
establishment in vogue at the time, the Smart exhausted himself in his
efforts to dash off a sonnet to her eyelashes or a rhapsody in praise of
her tip-tilted nose. He drank her health upon his knees, tossing off a
non-heeltaps to every letter of her name. His day was considered wasted
unless he were seen in all his delicate apparel in company with the
acknowledged reigning queen among toasts.
One lady, by name of Flavia, kept an orange tree growing in the window of
her bed-chamber. This inspired a burst of classic poetry from a Buck who
saw and envied it. In one of the volumes of Terrae Filius a most amusing
story was related which shows what influence these toasts exercised upon
the Undergraduates. She, too, answered to the name of Flavia--whether she
were one and the same as the horticultural lady it is impossible to say. A
“promising lad” came up and was recognised by his master--of whom he was
“a very favourite”--to be a “diligent and ingenious scholar.”
[Illustration: MERTON COLLEGE AND CHAPEL, FROM THE FIRST QUADRANGLE.]
That character he maintained for some time, keeping to his chamber and his
books, with sported oak, and not concerning himself with the vagaries of
fashion; “indeed the poor young fellow did not dress smart; nay, often was
really dirty.” Gradually he made the acquaintance of some noted Bucks and
sought their society and conversation out of curiosity. But they
continually ragged him about his shabby appearance. “Dick!” said they,
“prithee let’s burn this damned brown wig of thine; get thee a little more
linnen.” The lad for a time was obdurate, but at last put forward in
excuse that “this alteration of himself would make him be taken too much
notice of, and, it may be, his new dress might sit so awkward, that he
would become the jest of his acquaintance.” This was a set-back to the
friends, but they came to the cunning conclusion that he might be tricked
into it. So they buttonholed him. “Dick,” said one, “did you never see
Miss Flavia, one of our top toasts?” “No,” quoth he, “unless at her
window.” “Well, faith,” said the friend, “to be plain, she likes you, I
myself heard her say in public company, I have been shew’d Mr Such-a-one
several times; everybody says he’s a man of fire; it is a thousand pities
he’s such a sloven.” Dick was finished. He went home obsessed with the
idea, flung his wig into the fire, forgot his studies entirely and swore
to see Flavia the very next day. His friends spread a rumour abroad that
he had come into money, and his tradesmen gave him unlimited credit.
Accordingly he was decked out, in ruffles and all the other paraphernalia,
and from that day worshipped at the lady’s shrine. In these days such fair
Flavias would in all probability be found pulling beer in a public-house,
totally devoid of H’s, but none the less popular among a certain set.
To-day they can be treated with a certain amount of Undergraduate levity,
but in the eighteenth century it behoved the contumelious to walk
delicately and to be very careful. Amhurst hoisted the danger signal when
he related that “not long ago, a bitter lampoon was published upon the
most celebrated of these petticoat-professors, as soon as it came out the
town was in an uproar, and a very severe sentence was passed upon the
author of this anonymous libel; to discover whom no pains were spared; all
the disgusted, ill-natured fellows in the university were, one after
another, suspected upon this occasion. At last, I know not how, it was
peremptorily fixed upon one; whether justly, or not, I cannot say; but the
parties offended resolved to make an example of somebody for such an
enormous crime, and one of them (more enraged than the rest) was heard to
declare ‘that, right or wrong, that impudent scoundrel (mentioning his
name) should be expelled, by G--d; and that she had interest enough with
the president and senior fellows of his college to get his business
done.’” And the scandalous part of the business was that the president and
senior fellows who had evidently had relations with the woman in question
were such cowards as to yield to her demands, which probably took the form
of threats of exposure against themselves, and sent the unoffending man
down for good.
In his character of general reformer Terrae Filius felt himself compelled,
however reluctantly, to “draw his pen against womenkind”--the womenkind of
Oxford. His apology for so doing was that “I shall have the misfortunes of
numberless young men to answer for, if I conceal anything which may be for
their advantage, or spare any abuses in the universities, though committed
by the fairest offenders.”
After a disquisition on love, which he described as “a most arbitrary
passion,” which “engrosses the whole man ... and grumbles at its own
poverty and searches after new acquisitions,” he continued “conscious of
this truth, our wise forefathers took all possible care to purge the seats
of learning of these shining temptations, these dangerous decoys of youth;
but as all their prudence and precaution could not do this entirely, they
made a statute, ‘prohibiting all scholars, as well as Graduates or
Undergraduates, of whatever faculty, to frequent the houses and shops of
any townsmen by day, and especially by night; but more especially houses,
which harbour or receive infamous or suspected women, with whom all
scholars are strictly forbid to keep company, either in their own private
chambers, or at the houses of any townsmen.’ I suppose it will be objected
by the Smarts, or others, that this statute extends only to common
prostitutes or night-walkers, and not to those divine creatures dignified
by the name of toasts; but I think that it includes all suspected women,
and especially the toasts, for the following reasons:--
“1. Because it was not the only design of the statute to restrain the
scholars from debauchery (from which, I hope, they need no forcible
restraint!) but to prevent them also from neglecting their studies, and
entering into scandalous marriages; of which they are in no danger from
common strumpets and mercenary street-walkers.
“2. Because there was no occasion for a statute against common whores, any
more than against house-breakers and pickpockets, which are all punishable
by the laws of the land.
“3. Because I have a better opinion of the townsmen of Oxford (who are,
many of them, matriculated men), than to believe that they would entertain
in their houses such filthy drabs; though it is probable enough that they
would marry their daughters to advantage if they could; in which I can see
no great harm on their parts.
“4. Because I have a better opinion of the scholars too, than to believe
that they would keep company with such cattle; and I think it is a scandal
to the university to stand in need of a statute, which supposes that any
of her hopeful children are addicted to such beastliness.”
Amhurst’s reasons are logical enough to convince the meanest intelligence
of the true nature of the Oxford toasts. In support of them he brings up
no less a second than King Charles I., who wrote officially and at some
length on the question of university government to the Vice-Chancellor and
Heads of Cambridge commanding the suppression of women such as those in
question. The reason why the good King did not treat Oxford to a similar
injunction is, supposedly, that the need for it did not reach the royal
ears. It is hinted more than once, too, in the pages of Terrae Filius that
the Dons themselves entertained feelings of sympathy towards the toasts,
and shielded them from royal visitations by intentionally keeping things
quiet. Judging from the character of the Dons in the eighteenth century it
is highly probable that such was indeed the case.
“Happy is it,” says Amhurst, “for the present generation of Oxford toasts,
that King Charles I. (so much unlike that accomplished gentleman, his son)
was long ago laid in the dust! Were that rigid King now alive, my mind
misgives me strangely, that I should see an end of all the balls and
cabals, and junketings at Oxford; that several of our most celebrated and
beautiful madams would pluck off their fine feathers, and betake
themselves to an honest livelihood; or make their personal appearance
before the lords of his majesty’s privy council, to answer their contempt,
and such other matters as should be objected against them.”
Unmourned and besmirched the last of the Oxford toasts has long since
passed beyond the judgment of man. The Dons were in all too many cases the
cause of sending recruits to the ranks of the oldest profession in the
world. Heads of colleges, reverend clerics, and holders of Fellowships
must all answer to the charge of “wenching.”
[Illustration: A VARSITY TRICK--SMUGGLING IN.]