Years passed on, even three years; during this period I had increased
considerably in stature and in strength, and, let us hope, improved in
mind; for I had entered on the study of the Latin language. The very
first person to whose care I was entrusted for the acquisition of Latin
was an old friend of my father's, a clergyman who kept a seminary at a
town the very next we visited after our departure from "the Cross". Under
his instruction, however, I continued only a few weeks, as we speedily
left the place. "Captain," said this divine, when my father came to take
leave of him on the eve of our departure, "I have a friendship for you,
and therefore wish to give you a piece of advice concerning this son of
yours. You are now removing him from my care; you do wrong, but we will
let that pass. Listen to me: there is but one good school book in the
world--the one I use in my seminary--Lilly's Latin Grammar, in which your
son has already made some progress. If you are anxious for the success
of your son in life, for the correctness of his conduct and the soundness
of his principles, keep him to Lilly's Grammar. If you can by any means,
either fair or foul, induce him to get by heart Lilly's Latin Grammar,
you may set your heart at rest with respect to him; I, myself, will be
his warrant. I never yet knew a boy that was induced, either by fair
means or foul, to learn Lilly's Latin Grammar by heart, who did not turn
out a man, provided he lived long enough."
My father, who did not understand the classical languages, received with
respect the advice of his old friend, and from that moment conceived the
highest opinion of Lilly's Latin Grammar. During three years I studied
Lilly's Latin Grammar under the tuition of various schoolmasters, for I
travelled with the regiment, and in every town in which we were
stationary I was invariably (God bless my father!) sent to the classical
academy of the place. It chanced, by good fortune, that in the
generality of these schools the grammar of Lilly was in use; when,
however, that was not the case, it made no difference in my educational
course, my father always stipulating with the masters that I should be
daily examined in Lilly. At the end of the three years I had the whole
by heart; you had only to repeat the first two or three words of any
sentence in any part of the book, and forthwith I would open cry,
commencing without blundering and hesitation, and continue till you were
glad to beg me to leave off, with many expressions of admiration at my
proficiency in the Latin language. Sometimes, however, to convince you
how well I merited these encomiums, I would follow you to the bottom of
the stair, and even into the street, repeating in a kind of sing-song
measure the sonorous lines of the golden schoolmaster. If I am here
asked whether I understood anything of what I had got by heart, I
reply--"Never mind, I understand it all now, and believe that no one ever
yet got Lilly's Latin Grammar by heart when young, who repented of the
feat at a mature age".
And when my father saw that I had accomplished my task, he opened his
mouth, and said, "Truly this is more than I expected. I did not think
that there had been so much in you, either of application or capacity;
you have now learnt all that is necessary, if my friend Dr. B---'s
opinion was sterling, as I have no doubt it was. You are still a child,
however, and must yet go to school, in order that you may be kept out of
evil company. Perhaps you may still contrive, now you have exhausted the
barn, to pick up a grain or two in the barnyard. You are still ignorant
of figures, I believe, not that I would mention figures in the same day
with Lilly's Grammar."
These words were uttered in a place called ---, in the north, or in the
road to the north, to which, for some time past, our corps had been
slowly advancing. I was sent to the school of the place, which chanced
to be a day school. It was a somewhat extraordinary one, and a somewhat
extraordinary event occurred to me within its walls.
It occupied part of the farther end of a small plain, or square, at the
outskirts of the town, close to some extensive bleaching fields. It was
a long low building of one room, with no upper storey; on the top was a
kind of wooden box, or sconce, which I at first mistook for a
pigeon-house, but which in reality contained a bell, to which was
attached a rope, which, passing through the ceiling, hung dangling in the
middle of the school-room. I am the more particular in mentioning this
appurtenance, as I had soon occasion to scrape acquaintance with it in a
manner not very agreeable to my feelings. The master was very proud of
his bell, if I might judge from the fact of his eyes being frequently
turned to that part of the ceiling from which the rope depended. Twice
every day, namely, after the morning and evening tasks had been gone
through, were the boys rung out of school by the monotonous jingle of
this bell. This ringing out was rather a lengthy affair, for, as the
master was a man of order and method, the boys were only permitted to go
out of the room one by one; and as they were rather numerous, amounting,
at least, to one hundred, and were taught to move at a pace of suitable
decorum, at least a quarter of an hour elapsed from the commencement of
the march before the last boy could make his exit. The office of bell-
ringer was performed by every boy successively; and it so happened that,
the very first day of my attendance at the school, the turn to ring the
bell had, by order of succession, arrived at the place which had been
allotted to me; for the master, as I have already observed, was a man of
method and order, and every boy had a particular seat, to which he became
a fixture as long as he continued at the school.
So, upon this day, when the tasks were done and completed, and the boys
sat with their hats and caps in their hands, anxiously expecting the
moment of dismissal, it was suddenly notified to me, by the urchins who
sat nearest to me, that I must get up and ring the bell. Now, as this
was the first time that I had been at the school, I was totally
unacquainted with the process, which I had never seen, and, indeed, had
never heard of till that moment. I therefore sat still, not imagining it
possible that any such duty could be required of me. But now, with not a
little confusion, I perceived that the eyes of all the boys in the school
were fixed upon me. Presently there were nods and winks in the direction
of the bell-rope; and, as these produced no effect, uncouth visages were
made, like those of monkeys when enraged; teeth were gnashed, tongues
thrust out, and even fists were bent at me. The master, who stood at the
end of the room, with a huge ferule under his arm, bent full upon me a
look of stern appeal; and the ushers, of whom there were four, glared
upon me, each from his own particular corner, as I vainly turned, in one
direction and another, in search of one reassuring look.
But now, probably in obedience to a sign from the master, the boys in my
immediate neighbourhood began to maltreat me. Some pinched me with their
fingers, some buffeted me, whilst others pricked me with pins or the
points of compasses. These arguments were not without effect. I sprang
from my seat, and endeavoured to escape along a double line of benches,
thronged with boys of all ages, from the urchin of six or seven, to the
nondescript of sixteen or seventeen. It was like running the gauntlet;
every one, great or small, pinching, kicking, or otherwise maltreating me
as I passed by.
Goaded on in this manner, I at length reached the middle of the room,
where dangled the bell-rope, the cause of all my sufferings. I should
have passed it--for my confusion was so great, that I was quite at a loss
to comprehend what all this could mean, and almost believed myself under
the influence of an ugly dream--but now the boys who were seated in
advance in the row, arose with one accord, and barred my farther
progress; and one, doubtless more sensible that the rest, seizing the
rope, thrust it into my hand. I now began to perceive that the dismissal
of the school, and my own release from torment, depended upon this self
same rope. I therefore in a fit of desperation, pulled it once or twice,
and then left off, naturally supposing that I had done quite enough. The
boys who sat next the door, no sooner heard the bell, than, rising from
their seats, they moved out at the door. The bell, however, had no
sooner ceased to jingle, than they stopped short, and, turning round,
stared at the master, as much as to say, "What are we to do now?" This
was too much for the patience of the man of method, which my previous
stupidity had already nearly exhausted. Dashing forward into the middle
of the room, he struck me violently on the shoulders with his ferule, and
snatching the rope out of my hand, exclaimed, with a stentorian voice,
and genuine Yorkshire accent, "Prodigy of ignorance! dost not even know
how to ring a bell? Must I myself instruct thee?" He then commenced
pulling at the bell with such violence, that long before half the school
was dismissed the rope broke, and the rest of the boys had to depart
without their accustomed music.
But I must not linger here, though I could say much about the school and
the pedagogue highly amusing and diverting, which, however, I suppress,
in order to make way for matters of yet greater interest. On we went,
northwards, northwards! and, as we advanced, I saw that the country was
becoming widely different from those parts of merry England in which we
had previously travelled. It was wilder and less cultivated, and more
broken with hills and hillocks. The people, too, of these regions
appeared to partake of something of the character of their country. They
were coarsely dressed; tall and sturdy in frame; their voices were deep
and guttural; and the half of the dialect which they spoke was
unintelligible to my ears.
I often wondered where we could be going, for I was at this time about as
ignorant of geography as I was of most other things. However, I held my
peace, asked no questions, and patiently awaited the issue.
Northward, northward, still! And it came to pass that, one morning, I
found myself extended on the bank of a river. It was a beautiful morning
of early spring; small white clouds were floating in the heaven,
occasionally veiling the countenance of the sun, whose light, as they
retired, would again burst forth, coursing like a race-horse over the
scene--and a goodly scene it was! Before me, across the water, on an
eminence, stood a white old city, surrounded with lofty walls, above
which rose the tops of tall houses, with here and there a church or
steeple. To my right hand was a long and massive bridge, with many
arches and of antique architecture, which traversed the river. The river
was a noble one, the broadest that I had hitherto seen. Its waters, of a
greenish tinge, poured with impetuosity beneath the narrow arches to meet
the sea, close at hand, as the boom of the billows breaking distinctly
upon a beach declared. There were songs upon the river from the fisher-
barks; and occasionally a chorus, plaintive and wild, such as I had never
heard before, the words of which I did not understand, but which, at the
present time, down the long avenue of years, seem in memory's ear to
sound like "Horam, coram, dago". Several robust fellows were near me,
some knee-deep in water, employed in hauling the seine upon the strand.
Huge fish were struggling amidst the meshes--princely salmon,--their
brilliant mail of blue and silver flashing in the morning beam; so goodly
and gay a scene, in truth, had never greeted my boyish eye.
And, as I gazed upon the prospect, my bosom began to heave, and my tears
to trickle. Was it the beauty of the scene which gave rise to these
emotions? Possibly; for though a poor ignorant child--a half-wild
creature--I was not insensible to the loveliness of nature, and took
pleasure in the happiness and handiworks of my fellow-creatures. Yet,
perhaps, in something more deep and mysterious the feelings which then
pervaded me might originate. Who can lie down on Elvir Hill without
experiencing something of the sorcery of the place? Flee from Elvir
Hill, young swain, or the maids of Elle will have power over you, and you
will go elf-wild!--so say the Danes. I had unconsciously laid myself
down upon haunted ground; and I am willing to imagine that what I then
experienced was rather connected with the world of spirits and dreams
than with what I actually saw and heard around me. Surely the elves and
genii of the place were conversing, by some inscrutable means, with the
principle of intelligence lurking within the poor uncultivated clod!
Perhaps to that ethereal principle, the wonders of the past, as connected
with that stream, the glories of the present, and even the history of the
future, were at that moment being revealed. Of how many feats of
chivalry had those old walls been witness, when hostile kings contended
for their possession?--how many an army from the south and from the north
had trod that old bridge?--what red and noble blood had crimsoned those
rushing waters?--what strains had been sung, ay, were yet being sung, on
its banks?--some soft as Doric reed; some fierce and sharp as those of
Norwegian Skaldaglam; some as replete with wild and wizard force as
Finland's runes, singing of Kalevala's moors, and the deeds of
Woinomoinen! Honour to thee, thou island stream! Onward may thou ever
roll, fresh and green, rejoicing in thy bright past, thy glorious
present, and in vivid hope of a triumphant future! Flow on, beautiful
one!--which of the world's streams canst thou envy, with thy beauty and
renown? Stately is the Danube, rolling in its might through lands
romantic with the wild exploits of Turk, Polak, and Magyar! Lovely is
the Rhine! on its shelvy banks grows the racy grape; and strange old
keeps of robber-knights of yore are reflected in its waters, from
picturesque crags and airy headlands!--yet neither the stately Danube,
nor the beauteous Rhine, with all their fame, though abundant, needst
thou envy, thou pure island stream!--and far less yon turbid river of
old, not modern, renown, gurgling beneath the walls of what was once
proud Rome, towering Rome, Jupiter's town, but now vile Rome, crumbling
Rome, Batuscha's town, far less needst thou envy the turbid Tiber of
bygone fame, creeping sadly to the sea, surcharged with the abominations
of modern Rome--how unlike to thee, thou pure island stream!
And, as I lay on the bank and wept, there drew nigh to me a man in the
habiliments of a fisher. He was bare-legged, of a weather-beaten
countenance, and of stature approaching to the gigantic. "What is the
callant greeting for?" said he, as he stopped and surveyed me. "Has ony
body wrought ye ony harm?"
"Not that I know of," I replied, rather guessing at than understanding
his question; "I was crying because I could not help it! I say, old one,
what is the name of this river?"
"Hout! I now see what you was greeting at--at your ain ignorance, nae
doubt--'tis very great! Weel, I will na fash you with reproaches, but
even enlighten ye, since you seem a decent man's bairn, and you speir a
civil question. Yon river is called the Tweed; and yonder, over the
brig, is Scotland. Did ye never hear of the Tweed, my bonny man?"
"No," said I, as I rose from the grass, and proceeded to cross the bridge
to the town at which we had arrived the preceding night; "I never heard
of it; but now I have seen it, I shall not soon forget it!"