TOM BROWN AT OXFORD
Thomas Hughes
(1822-96)
[Illustration: 0010]
[Illustration: 0011]
With Illustrations by Sydney P. Hall
New York: John W. Lovell Company
150 Worth Street, Corner Mission Place
PUBLISHING HISTORY
First serialized ending in circa 1861 in MacMillan's Magazine
(mentioned by the author in his preface, and Chapter 28 contains
the author's footnote indicating that at least part of this
chapter was not written earlier than 1859)
First published in 3 volume book form 1861 by Cambridge, London
(British Library)
2nd edition published 1861 by MacMillan & Co., Cambridge & London
(British Library)
Published 1861 by Ticknor & Fields, Boston (Library of Congress)
May have been serialized by Ticknor & Fields in 1859 (parts
offered on Amazon.com by an antique bookseller)
Published 1863 by Ticknor & Fields, Boston (Library of Congress)
Published 1865 by MacMillan & Co. (British Library)
Published 1870 by Harper Bros., New York (British Library)
Published 1871 by Harper Bros., New York (Library of Congress &
British Library)
Published 1879 by unknown, New York (Library of Congress)
Published 1881 by MacMillan & Co., New York (Library of Congress)
French translation published 1881 in Paris with added name
Girardin, Jules Marie Alfred who is possibly the translator(?)
(British Library)
Published circa 1888-92 by John W. Lovell, New York (Ebook
transcriber's scanned copy)
Published 1888 by Porter & Coates, Philadelphia (Ebook
transcriber's proofreading copy)
Published 1889 by MacMillan, London & New York (Library of
Congress)
Published 1890 by Lovell, Coryell & Co., New York (Library of
Congress)
Published 1905 in two volumes with Tom Brown's School Days
(British Library)
Published 1914 by T. Nelson & Sons (British Library)
Published 1920 by S.W. Partridge & Co., London (British Library)
Published 2004 as part of a five volume set entitled Victorian
Novels of Oxbridge Life, Christopher Stray editor, Thoemmes,
Bristol (British Library)
* * * * *
(Transcriber's Notes: Notice the author's name does not appear on
the title page or on the cover, and in fact it is only given as
T. Hughes at the end of his preface and nowhere else. Sydney
Hall, 1842-1922, did portraits, newspaper and magazine
illustrations, but oddly enough there are none to be found in the
Lovell produced book, though the Porter & Coates edition has one
unattributed woodcut)
Printed and Bound by Donohue & Henneberry, Chicago
(Transcriber's Note: Donahue & Henneberry were in business
1871-99 doing book binding and printing for the cheap book trade
at various addresses in Chicago's business district known as the
Loop, mostly on Dearborn Street.)
* * * * *
TOM BROWN AT OXFORD
By Thomas Hughes
Author of "Tom Brown's School Days"
Philadelphia: Porter & Coates
(Transcriber's Note: the date 1888 is penciled in here on this
page by a previous owner)
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note:
A Short Summary, With Some Explanations of Concepts Presented by
Hughes, but Not Well Defined by Him, Being Apparently Well
Understood in His Day, but With Which Modern Readers May be
Unfamiliar.
This is the sequel to Hughes' more successful novel _Tom Brown's
School Days_, which told about Tom at the Rugby School from the
age of 11 to 16. Now Tom is at Oxford University for a three year
program of study, in which he attends class lectures and does
independent reading with a tutor. A student in residence at
Oxford is said to be "up" or have "come up", and one who leaves
is said to have gone "down".
The author weaves a picture of life at Oxford University in the
1840s, where he himself was at that time, at Oriel College, where
he excelled in sports rather than academics. The University is
made up of a number of separate colleges, and the students form
friendships within and develop a loyalty to their own college.
Tom's college, St. Ambrose, is fictional. The study programs
available to the students are intended to prepare them for the
legal, ecclesiastical, medical and educational professions.
Students who do poorly might be expected to enter the diplomatic
corps or the army or navy, though a son of the aristocracy might
be thrust into a minor church role. To enter into business or
manufacturing engineering or the research sciences would require
an inheritance or family connection.
Latin was still taught because the best literature available to
them was still the ancient Greek and Roman poets and
philosophers, and the legal and medical professions still used it
extensively, though the ecclesiastical and educational fields had
largely abandoned it.
Tom finds that there is a social barrier between the wealthy
students and the students that are there on the equivalent of a
modern academic scholarship, or have to work as a graduate
student tutor to earn their stipend. There were no sports
scholarships at this time, though the author hints vaguely at one
point that someday the idea could be explored.
There were no female students at this time. Tom becomes involved
with a local barmaid. The barmaid being of a different social
class than Tom, this relationship causes problems for both of
them, and it is important for the modern reader to realize that
such social distinctions were very real and inflexible in those
days. The working class referred to the educated class as their
"betters", meaning better educated and entitled to better
respect, regardless of whether it was earned or deserved.
There were no dormitories and self-serve cafeterias as with
modern colleges, instead meals were served in a dining hall by
scouts, and each student gets what are called "rooms", consisting
of a bedroom and a sitting room for study and entertaining.
"Scouts" are a kind of servant attached to one student or a small
number of students. They run errands, bring meals from the
kitchen, and take care of clothing. A bootblack called the
"boots" takes care of footwear. A charwoman called the "char"
cleaned the rooms.
If a student wished to study without interruption, he would close
the oak door to his rooms, which was called "sporting his oak",
the signal not to disturb.
The term "the eleven" refers to the cricket team, and "prize-men"
refers to students who win prizes for scholarship. "Hunting
Pinks" are red riding jackets, and "hunters" are horses
especially suited to steeplechase or fox hunting type riding.
The Boating Club and Boat Racing is the popular sport of crew
rowing or sculling, where each college appoints a crew of eight
strong scull pullers or oarsmen and one small coxswain or
steersman to pilot a long narrow boat called a skiff or shell.
The coxswain calls the strokes and is generally the coach and
commander of the crew. Unlike in a canoe, the pullers face
backwards, and the one nearest the coxswain is called the "stroke
oar", because all the other oars watch him and match his stroke.
The racing takes place on the river which runs through Oxford,
and since because of the oars the river is too narrow for normal
passing as in most other kinds of racing, the race is sometimes
with just two boats, one ahead of the other. If the prow of the
second boat touches the stern of the first boat, the second boat
is considered the winner and advances in ranking. If the first
boat rows the length of the course without being bumped, it is
considered the winner and maintains its ranking. Sometimes the
winning crewmen put their little coxswain in the boat and parade
him through the streets of the town. At the end of the season the
honor of "Head of the River" belongs to the boat that has not
been defeated and is presumably the fastest, whereas the slowest
boat, Tail End Charlie, has been defeated by all the other
colleges. For another description of boating on the Thames in the
nineteenth century, see the humorous travel-log "Three Men in a
Boat, to Say Nothing of the Dog" by Jerome K. Jerome, written in
1889, which also mentions the dangers of the lasher at the
Sandford Lock.
Students were required to wear the traditional student's gown and
mortarboard cap to classes. Professors wore floppy caps and
similar gowns with indications of their rank on the sleeves,
Doctor, Master or Batchelor. This garb dates from the Middle
Ages, but is now only seen at Graduation Day and special
university occasions, and the gown has survived in some church
choirs. A professor was also called a don, and graduate
assistants were called fellows or servitors.
The "tufts" or students from the nobility or titled families were
a privileged set, paid double fees and were not required to do
much of anything academically. Gentlemen-commoners were from the
untitled but wealthy families and also paid double fees. A few
students from poorer social classes were accepted if they had
good references. "Town and Gown" refers to the animosity between
the local permanent residents of the town and the rowdy students,
occasionally descending into actual fist fights. To be "gated"
was to be confined to college and to be "rusticated" was to be
suspended from college.
A "wine" is the nineteenth century equivalent of a student's beer
and pizza party, though it seems to have been paid for entirely
out of the pocket of the host. It is also a form of student
networking, wherein they build relationships useful for their
future business, professional or social life. German university
students joined a Kadet Korps, which was somewhat like a
combination of a modern day fraternity and Officer's Training
Corps, but no such equivalent seems to have been at Oxford.
Instead there was an academic set called the "reading men" which
buckled down to the books, and a set of "fast men" who lived the
dissipated high life of drinking, gambling, women and riding fast
horses. The fast set, though they were gentleman commoners and
not titled nobility, usually were from wealthy families, and
often ran up large bills with the local tradesmen, called "going
tick", which could go unpaid for quite a long time.
In Chapter 14 the author mentions Big Ben, but this is not the
clock tower bell in London, which at the time of writing had not
yet been rung; instead this is Benjamin Caunt, the bare-knuckle
boxer who defeated William Thompson in 75 rounds to become
Heavyweight Champion of England in 1838. The bell may possibly
have been named after him.
It should be remembered that at the time this story was written,
the dangers of tobacco smoke were mostly unknown, and cigars,
cheroots and pipes were quite commonly used, though the cigarette
had not come into use yet. Tobacco, often called weed, was only
discouraged during physical training, thus at one point in
Chapter 15 Tom recommends smoking to Hardy for an almost
therapeutic purpose.
In Chapter 17 the author imagines a flying machine, though at the
time of writing only balloons had ever carried men aloft. He
imagines it something like a carriage equipped to carry
passengers, with the most comfortable carriage type C-springs,
steam powered, and faster than the latest trains, which at that
time went 40 miles per hour, the fastest speed that anyone had
ever achieved.
The author mentions Tractarians and Germanizers. The Tractarians
were a group of Oxford dons who, in the 1840s, wrote a series of
tracts, aimed at proposing some changes to the theological system
of the Anglican Church. Germanizers proposed some changes more
along the lines of the Lutheran theology, and these controversies
occupied the Anglican theologians of the time. The author did not
expand on these subjects, nor even indicate his support or
opposition to them, as it was not necessary for the story.
At this time, as in many other times, the evangelical Christians
were in the forefront of movements to help poor and downtrodden
people, but other elements were attempting to become involved,
promoting their own methods and beliefs. Karl Marx was not known
in England, and the Russian Revolution was still in the distant
future, but a few radical left-wing idealists know as Chartists
and Swings were beginning to be heard on campus, and Tom gets
briefly involved with them, speaking up for the poor, but
realizes their destructive ideas cannot be reconciled with proper
Christian behavior, thus voicing some of the author's views on
social reforms. The author later in life got involved with a
communal living experiment.
Some words and expressions are used differently today than they
were used in the nineteenth century. For example, when Tom says
"There must always be some blackguards," he means "Regrettably
there will always be blackguards," not "We ought to have some
blackguards". Katie and Tom discuss "profane" poetry, in the
sense of being secular and not sacred or religious. Mary weighs
"8 stone", which is 112 pounds or 50 kilograms, and "famously" is
used in the sense of being well done, not in the incorrect modern
use of being well known. A "twelve-horse screw" is the propeller
of a steam launch. To "give someone a character" is to speak or
write about their moral character, either favorably or
slanderously.
The book which I scanned using Optical Character Recognition was
printed in the 1888-92 period by John W. Lovell of 150 Worth St.
New York. Lovell has been described as a book pirate who tried to
form a monopoly in the cheap uncopyrighted book trade. The US
copyright laws were rather weak in the nineteenth century, and
Charles Dickens was particularly hurt by pirates. There was even
a book war, with rival publishers of the same book undercutting
each other on price. Proof reading was done with another copy of
the book published in 1888 by Porter & Coates of Philadelphia,
which is in poorer condition with water damage, and would not
scan well, but has fewer typesetting errors.
Nineteenth century punctuation made much more use of commas,
hyphens and semicolons, and these have been retained as much as
possible. British spellings of words such as colour, neighbour,
odour, and flavour are retained, though in some cases the
American publisher seems to have made his own corrections as he
saw fit, and some words such as "connection" have retained the
nineteenth century spelling "connexion", but where a word was
obviously spelled wrong by the typesetter, I have corrected it.
The author used a few Greek words, which do not scan, and I have
entered those manually using Symbol font for the rtf file, but
substituted normal characters for the plain txt file and
indicated [Greek text] where appropriate. The English pound
symbol cannot be expressed in ASCII, so 25 pounds is rendered as
25L. Words printed in italics for emphasis are here rendered with
_underscores_ for the ASCII file.
Robert E. Reilly, PE, BSIE, BSME
Chicago, 2008
* * * * *
INITIUM
Tom Brown at Oxford
Thomas Hughes (1822-96)
Author's Dedication
To the Rev. F. D. Maurice, in memory of fourteen years' fellow
work, and in testimony of ever increasing affection and gratitude
this volume is dedicated by
The Author.
PREFACE
Prefaces written to explain the objects and meaning of a book, or
to make any appeal, _ad miseracordiam_ or other, in its favor,
are, in my opinion, nuisances. Any book worth reading will
explain its own objects and meaning, and the more it is
criticized and turned inside out, the better for it and its
author. Of all books, too, it seems to me that novels require
prefaces least--at any rate, on their first appearance.
Notwithstanding which belief, I must ask readers for three
minutes' patience before they make trial of this book.
The natural pleasure which I felt at the unlooked for popularity
of the first part of the present story, was much lessened by the
pertinacity with which many persons, acquaintance as well as
strangers, would insist (both in public and in private) on
identifying the hero and the author. On the appearance of the
first few numbers of the present continuation in Macmillan's
Magazine, the same thing occurred, and, in fact, reached such a
pitch, as to lead me to make some changes to the story.
Sensitiveness on such a point may seem folly, but if the readers
had felt the sort of loathing and disgust which one feels at the
notion of painting a favorable likeness of oneself in a work of
fiction, they would not wonder at it. So, now that this book is
finished and Tom Brown, so far as I am concerned, is done with
for ever, I must take this, my first and last chance of saying,
that he is not I, either as boy or man--in fact, not to beat
about the bush, is a much braver, and nobler, and purer fellow
than I ever was.
When I first resolved to write the book, I tried to realize to
myself what the commonest type of English boy of the upper middle
class was, so far as my experience went; and to that type I have
throughout adhered, trying simply to give a good specimen of the
genus. I certainly have placed him in the country, and scenes
which I know best myself, for the simple reason, that I knew them
better than any others, and therefore was less likely to blunder
in writing about them.
As to the name, which has been, perhaps, the chief "cause of
offense," in this matter, the simple facts are, that I chose the
name "Brown," because it stood first in the trio of "Brown,
Jones, and Robinson," which had become a sort of synonym for the
middle classes of Great Britain. It happens that my own name and
that of Brown have no single letter in common. As to the
Christian name of "Tom," having chosen Brown, I could hardly help
taking it as the prefix. The two names have gone together in
England for two hundred years, and the joint name has not enjoyed
much of a reputation for respectability. This suited me exactly.
I wanted the _commonest_ name I could get, and did not want any
name which had the least heroic, or aristocratic, or even
respectable savor about it. Therefore I had a natural leaning to
the combination which I found ready to my hand. Moreover, I
believed "Tom" to be a more specially English name than John, the
only other as to which I felt the least doubt. Whether it be that
Thomas a Beckett was for so long the favorite English saint, or
from whatever other cause, it certainly seems to be the fact,
that the name "Thomas," is much commoner in England than in any
other country. The words, "tom-fool,"
"tom-boy," etc., though,
perhaps not complimentary to the "Tom's" of England, certainly
show how large a family they must have been. These reasons
decided me to keep the Christian name which had been always
associated with "Brown"; and I own that the fact that it happened
to be my own, never occurred to me as an objection, till the
mischief was done, past recall.
I have only, then, to say, that neither is the hero a portrait of
myself, nor is there any other portrait in either of the books,
except in the case of Dr. Arnold, where the true name is given.
My deep feeling of gratitude to him, and reverence for his
memory, emboldened me to risk the attempt at a portrait in his
case, so far as the character was necessary for the work. With
these remarks, I leave this volume in the hands of readers.
T. Hughes
Lincoln's Inn,
October, 1861
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTORY
I--ST. AMBROSE'S COLLEGE
II--A ROW ON THE RIVER
III--A BREAKFAST AT DRYSDALE'S
IV--THE ST. AMBROSE BOAT CLUB; ITS MINISTRY--AND THEIR BUDGET
V--HARDY, THE SERVITOR
VI--HOW DRYSDALE AND BLAKE WENT FISHING
VII--AN EXPLOSION
VIII--HARDY'S HISTORY
IX--"A BROWN BAIT"
X--SUMMER TERM
XI--MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY
XII--THE CAPTAIN'S NOTIONS
XIII--THE FIRST BUMP
XIV--A CHANGE IN THE CREW AND WHAT CAME OF IT
XV--A STORM BREWS AND BREAKS
XVI--THE STORM RAGES
XVII--NEW GROUND
XVIII--ENGLEBOURN VILLAGE
XIX--A PROMISE OF FAIRER WEATHER
XX--THE RECONCILIATION
XXI--CAPTAIN HARDY ENTERTAINED BY ST. AMBROSE
XXII--DEPARTURES EXPECTED AND UNEXPECTED
XXIII--THE ENGLEBOURN CONSTABLE
XXIV--THE SCHOOLS
XXV--COMMEMORATION
XXVI--THE LONG WALK IN CHRISTCHURCH MEADOWS
XXVII--LECTURING A LIONESS
XXVIII--THE END OF THE FRESHMEN'S YEAR
XXIX--THE LONG VACATION LETTER BAG
XXX--AMUSEMENTS AT BARTON MANOR
XXXI--BEHIND THE SCENES
XXXII--A CRISIS
XXXIII--BROWN PATRONUS
XXXIV--[Greek text] MEHDEN AGAN
XXXV--SECOND YEAR
XXXVI--THE RIVER SIDE
XXXVII--THE NIGHT WATCH
XXXVIII--MARY IN MAYFAIR
XXXIX--WHAT CAME OF THE NIGHT WATCH
XL--HUE AND CRY
XLI--THE LIEUTENANT'S SENTIMENTS AND PROBLEMS
XLII--THIRD YEAR
XLIII--AFTERNOON VISITORS
XLIV--THE INTERCEPTED LETTER BAG
XLV--MASTER'S TERM
XLVI--FROM INDIA TO ENGLE BOURN
XLVII--THE WEDDING DAY
XLVIII--THE BEGINNING OF THE END
XLIX--THE END
L--THE POSTSCRIPT
TOM BROWN AT OXFORD
By Thomas Hughes (1822-96)
CHAPTER INTRODUCTORY
In the Michaelmas term after leaving school, Tom Brown received a
summons from the authorities, and went up to matriculate at St.
Ambrose's College, Oxford. He presented himself at the college
one afternoon, and was examined by one of the tutors, who carried
him, and several other youths in like predicament, up to the
Senate House the next morning. Here they went through the usual
forms of subscribing to the articles, and otherwise testifying
their loyalty to the established order of things, without much
thought perhaps, but in very good faith nevertheless. Having
completed the ceremony, by paying his fees, our hero hurried back
home, without making any stay in Oxford. He had often passed
through it, so that the city had not the charm of novelty for
him, and he was anxious to get home; where, as he had never spent
an autumn away from school till now, for the first time in his
life he was having his fill of hunting and shooting.
He had left school in June, and did not go up to reside at Oxford
till the end of the following January. Seven good months; during
a part of which he had indeed read for four hours or so a week
with the curate of the parish, but the residue had been
exclusively devoted to cricket and field sports. Now, admirable
as these institutions are, and beneficial as is their influence
on the youth of Britain, it is possible for a youngster to get
too much of them. So it had fallen out with our hero. He was a
better horseman and shot, but the total relaxation of all the
healthy discipline of school, the regular hours and regular work
to which he had been used for so many years, had certainly thrown
him back in other ways. The whole man had not grown; so that we
must not be surprised to find him quite as boyish, now that we
fall in with him again, marching down to St. Ambrose's with a
porter wheeling his luggage after him on a truck as when we left
him at the end of his school career.
Tom was in truth beginning to feel that it was high time for him
to be getting to regular work again of some sort. A landing place
is a famous thing, but it is only enjoyable for a time by any
mortal who deserves one at all. So it was with a feeling of
unmixed pleasure that he turned in at the St. Ambrose gates, and
inquired of the porter what rooms had been allotted to him within
those venerable walls.
While the porter consulted his list, the great college sundial,
over the lodge, which had lately been renovated, caught Tom's
eye. The motto underneath, _"Pereunt et imputantur,"_ stood out,
proud of its new gilding, in the bright afternoon sun of a frosty
January day: which motto was raising sundry thoughts in his
brain, when the porter came upon the right place in his list, and
directed him to the end of his journey: No. 5 staircase, second
quadrangle, three pair back. In which new home we shall leave him
to install himself, while we endeavor to give the reader some
notion of the college itself.
CHAPTER I--ST. AMBROSE'S COLLEGE
St. Ambrose's College was a moderate-sized one. There might have
been some seventy or eighty undergraduates in residence, when our
hero appeared there as a freshman. Of these, unfortunately for
the college, there were a very large proportion of the
gentleman-commoners; enough, in fact, with the other men whom
they drew round them, and who lived pretty much as they did, to
form the largest and leading set in the college. So the college
was decidedly fast.
The chief characteristic of this set was the most reckless
extravagance of every kind. London wine merchants furnished them
with liqueurs at a guinea a bottle and wine at five guineas a
dozen; Oxford and London tailors vied with one another in
providing them with unheard-of quantities of the most gorgeous
clothing. They drove tandems in all directions, scattering their
ample allowances, which they treated as pocket money, about
roadside inns and Oxford taverns with open hand, and "going tick"
for everything which could by possibility be booked. Their cigars
cost two guineas a pound; their furniture was the best that could
be bought; pine-apples, forced fruit, and the most rare preserves
figured at their wine parties; they hunted, rode steeple-chases
by day, played billiards until the gates closed, and then were
ready for _vingt-et-une_, unlimited loo, and hot drink in their
own rooms, as long as anyone could be got to sit up and play.
The fast set then swamped, and gave the tone to the college; at
which fact no persons were more astonished and horrified than the
authorities of St. Ambrose.
That they of all bodies in the world should be fairly run away
with by a set of reckless, loose young spendthrifts, was indeed a
melancholy and unprecedented fact; for the body of fellows of St.
Ambrose was as distinguished for learning, morality and
respectability as any in the University. The foundation was not,
indeed, actually an open one. Oriel at that time alone enjoyed
this distinction; but there were a large number of open
fellowships, and the income of the college was large, and the
livings belonging to it numerous; so that the best men from other
colleges were constantly coming in. Some of these of a former
generation had been eminently successful in their management of
the college. The St. Ambrose undergraduates at one time had
carried off almost all the university prizes, and filled the
class lists, while maintaining at the same time the highest
character for manliness and gentlemanly conduct. This had lasted
long enough to establish the fame of the college, and great lords
and statesmen had sent their sons there; head-masters had
struggled to get the names of their best pupils on the books; in
short, everyone who had a son, ward, or pupil, whom he wanted to
push forward in the world--who was meant to cut a figure, and
take the lead among men, left no stone unturned to get him into
St. Ambrose's; and thought the first, and a very long step gained
when he had succeeded.
But the governing bodies of colleges are always on the change,
and, in the course of things men of other ideas came to rule at
St. Ambrose--shrewd men of the world; men of business, some of
them, with good ideas of making the most of their advantages; who
said, "Go to; why should we not make the public pay for the great
benefits we confer on them? Have we not the very best article in
the educational market to supply--almost a monopoly of it--and
shall we not get the highest price for it?" So by degrees they
altered many things in the college. In the first place, under
their auspices, gentlemen-commoners increased and multiplied; in
fact, the eldest sons of baronets, even squires, were scarcely
admitted on any other footing. As these young gentlemen paid
double fees to the college, and had great expectations of all
sorts, it could not be expected that they should be subject to
quite the same discipline as the common run of men, who would
have to make their own way in the world. So the rules as to
attendance at chapel and lectures, though nominally the same for
them as for commoners, were in practice relaxed in their favour;
and, that they might find all things suitable to persons in their
position, the kitchen and buttery were worked up to a high state
of perfection, and St. Ambrose, from having been one of the most
reasonable, had come to be about the most expensive college in
the university. These changes worked as their promoters probably
desired that they should work, and the college was full of rich
men, and commanded in the university the sort of respect which
riches bring with them. But the old reputation, though still
strong out of doors, was beginning sadly to wane within the
university precincts. Fewer and fewer of the St. Ambrose men
appeared in the class lists, or amongst the prize-men. They no
longer led the debates at the Union; the boat lost place after
place on the river; the eleven got beaten in all their matches.
The inaugurators of these changes had passed away in their turn,
and at last a reaction had commenced. The fellows recently
elected, and who were in residence at the time we write of, were
for the most part men of great attainments, all of them men who
had taken very high honors. The electors naturally enough had
chosen them as the most likely persons to restore, as tutors, the
golden days of the college; and they had been careful in the
selection to confine themselves to very quiet and studious men,
such as were likely to remain up at Oxford, passing over men of
more popular manners and active spirits, who would be sure to
flit soon into the world, and be of little more service to St.
Ambrose.
But these were not the men to get any hold on the fast set who
were now in the ascendant. It was not in the nature of things
that they should understand each other; in fact, they were
hopelessly at war, and the college was getting more and more out
of gear in consequence.
What they could do, however, they were doing; and under their
fostering care were growing up a small set, including most of the
scholars, who were likely, as far as they were concerned, to
retrieve the college character of the schools. But they were too
much like their tutors, men who did little else but read. They
neither wished for, nor were likely to gain, the slightest
influence on the fast set. The best men amongst them, too, were
diligent readers of the _Tracts for the Times_, and followers of
the able leaders of the High-church party, which was then a
growing one; and this led them also to form such friendships as
they made amongst out-college men of their own way of
thinking-with high churchmen, rather than St. Ambrose men. So
they lived very much to themselves, and scarcely interfered with
the dominant party.
Lastly, there was the boating set, which was beginning to revive
in the college, partly from the natural disgust of any body of
young Englishmen, at finding themselves distanced in an exercise
requiring strength and pluck, and partly from the fact, that the
captain for the time being was one of the best oars in the
University boat, and also a deservedly popular character. He was
now in his third year of residence, had won the pair-oar race,
and had pulled seven in the great yearly match with Cambridge,
and by constant hard work had managed to carry the St. Ambrose
boat up to the fifth place on the river. He will be introduced to
you, gentle reader, when the proper time comes; at present, we
are only concerned with a bird's-eye view of the college, that
you may feel more or less at home in it. The boating set was not
so separate or marked as the reading set, melting on one side
into, and keeping up more or less connexion with, the fast set,
and also commanding a sort of half allegiance from most of the
men who belonged to neither of the other sets. The minor
divisions, of which of course there were many, need not be
particularized, as the above general classification will be
enough for the purposes of this history.
Our hero, on leaving school, having bound himself solemnly to
write all his doings and thoughts to the friend whom he had left
behind him: distance and separation were to make no difference
whatever in their friendship. This compact had been made on one
of their last evenings at Rugby. They were sitting together in
the six-form room, Tom splicing the handle of a favourite cricket
bat, and Arthur reading a volume of Raleigh's works. The Doctor
had lately been alluding to the "History of the World," and had
excited the curiosity of the active-minded amongst his pupils
about the great navigator, statesman, soldier, author, and fine
gentleman. So Raleigh's works were seized on by various voracious
young readers, and carried out of the school library; and Arthur
was now deep in a volume of the "Miscellanies," curled up on a
corner of the sofa. Presently, Tom heard something between a
groan and a protest, and, looking up, demanded explanations; in
answer to which, Arthur, in a voice half furious and half
fearful, read out:--
"And be sure of this, thou shalt never find a friend in thy young
years whose conditions and qualities will please thee after thou
comest to more discretion and judgment; and then all thou givest
is lost, and all wherein thou shalt trust such a one will be
discovered."
"You don't mean that's Raleigh's?"
"Yes--here it is, in his first letter to his son."
"What a cold-blooded old Philistine," said Tom.
"But it can't be true, do you think?" said Arthur.
And in short, after some personal reflections on Sir Walter, they
then and there resolved that, so far as they were concerned, it
was not, could not, and should not be true, that they would
remain faithful, the same to each other; and the greatest friends
in the world, through I know not what separations, trials, and
catastrophes. And for the better insuring this result, a
correspondence, regular as the recurring months, was to be
maintained. It had already lasted through the long vacation and
up to Christmas without sensibly dragging, though Tom's letters
had been something of the shortest in November, when he had lots
of shooting, and two days a week with the hounds. Now, however,
having fairly got to Oxford, he determined to make up for all
short-comings. His first letter from college, taken in connexion
with the previous sketch of the place, will probably accomplish
the work of introduction better than any detailed account by a
third party; and it is therefore given here verbatim:--
_"St. Ambrose, Oxford,_
_"February, 184-_
"MY DEAR GEORDIE,
"According to promise, I write to tell you how I get on up here,
and what sort of a place Oxford is. Of course, I don't know much
about it yet, having only been up some weeks, but you shall have
my first impressions.
"Well, first and foremost it's an awfully idle place; at any rate
for us freshmen. Fancy now. I am in twelve lectures a week of an
hour each--Greek Testament, first book of Herodotus, second
AEneid, and first book of Euclid! There's a treat! Two hours a
day; all over by twelve, or one at latest, and no extra work at
all, in the shape of copies of verses, themes, or other
exercises.
"I think sometimes I'm back in the lower fifth; for we don't get
through more than we used to do there; and if you were to hear
the men construe, it would make your hair stand on end. Where on
earth can they have come from? Unless they blunder on purpose, as
I often think. Of course, I never look at a lecture before I go
in, I know it all nearly by heart, so it would be sheer waste of
time. I hope I shall take to reading something or other by
myself; but you know I never was much of a hand at sapping, and,
for the present, the light work suits me well enough, for there's
plenty to see and learn about in this place.
"We keep very gentlemanly hours. Chapel every morning at eight,
and evening at seven. You must attend once a day, and twice on
Sundays--at least, that's the rule of our college--and be in
gates by twelve o'clock at night. Besides which, if you're a
decently steady fellow, you ought to dine in hall perhaps four
days a week. Hall is at five o'clock. And now you have the sum
total. All the rest of your time you may just do what you like
with.
"So much for our work and hours. Now for the place. Well, it's a
grand old place, certainly; and I dare say, if a fellow goes
straight in it, and gets creditably through his three years, he
may end by loving it as much as we do the old school-house and
quadrangle at Rugby. Our college is a fair specimen: a venerable
old front of crumbling stone fronting the street, into which two
or three other colleges look also. Over the gateway is a large
room, where the college examinations go on, when there are any;
and, as you enter, you pass the porters lodge, where resides our
janitor, a bustling little man, with a pot belly, whose business
it is to put down the time at which the men come in at night, and
to keep all discommonsed tradesmen, stray dogs, and bad
characters generally, out of the college.
"The large quadrangle into which you come first, is bigger than
ours at Rugby, and a much more solemn and sleepy sort of a place,
with its gables and old mullioned windows. One side is occupied
by the hall and chapel; the principal's house takes up half
another side; and the rest is divided into staircases, on each of
which are six or eight sets of rooms, inhabited by us
undergraduates, and here and there a tutor or fellow dropped down
amongst us (in the first-floor rooms, of course), not exactly to
keep order, but to act as a sort of ballast. This quadrangle is
the show part of the college, and is generally respectable and
quiet, which is a good deal more than can be said for the inner
quadrangle, which you get at through a passage leading out of the
other. The rooms ain't half so large or good in the inner quad;
and here's where all we freshmen live, besides a lot of the older
undergraduates who don't care to change their rooms. Only one
tutor has rooms here; and I should think, if he's a reading man,
it won't be long before he clears out; for all sorts of high
jinks go on on the grass-plot, and the row on the staircases is
often as bad, and not half so respectable, as it used to be in
the middle passage in the last week of the half-year.
"My rooms are what they call garrets, right up in the roof, with
a commanding view of the college tiles and chimney pots, and of
houses at the back. No end of cats, both college Toms and
strangers, haunt the neighbourhood, and I am rapidly learning
cat-talking from them; but I'm not going to stand it--I don't
want to know cat-talk. The college Toms are protected by the
statutes, I believe; but I'm going to buy an air-gun for the
benefit of the strangers. My rooms are pleasant enough, at the
top of the kitchen staircase, and separated from all mankind by a
great, iron-clamped, outer door, my oak, which I sport when I go
out or want to be quiet; sitting room eighteen by twelve, bedroom
twelve by eight, and a little cupboard for the scout.
"Ah, Geordie, the scout is an institution! Fancy me waited upon
and valeted by a stout party in black of quiet, gentlemanly
manners, like the benevolent father in a comedy. He takes the
deepest interest in all my possessions and proceedings, and is
evidently used to good society, to judge by the amount of
crockery and glass, wines, liquors, and grocery, which he thinks
indispensable for my due establishment. He has also been good
enough to recommend to me many tradesmen who are ready to supply
these articles in any quantities; each of whom has been here
already a dozen times, cap in hand, and vowing that it is quite
immaterial when I pay--which is very kind of them; but, with the
highest respect for friend Perkins (my scout) and his obliging
friends, I shall make some enquiries before "letting in" with any
of them. He waits on me in hall, where we go in full fig of cap
and gown at five, and get very good dinners, and cheap enough. It
is rather a fine old room, with a good, arched, black oak ceiling
and high panelling, hung round with pictures of old swells,
bishops and lords chiefly, who have endowed the college in some
way, or at least have fed here in times gone by, and for whom,
_"caeterisque benefactoribus nostris,"_ we daily give thanks in a
long Latin grace, which one of the undergraduates (I think it
must be) goes and rattles out at the end of the high table, and
then comes down again from the dais to his own place. No one
feeds at the high table except the dons and the
gentlemen-commoners, who are undergraduates in velvet caps and
silk gowns. Why they wear these instead of cloth and serge I
haven't yet made out, I believe it is because they pay double
fees; but they seem uncommonly wretched up at the high table, and
I should think would sooner pay double to come to the other end
of the hall.
"The chapel is a quaint little place, about the size of the
chancel of Lutterworth Church. It just holds us all comfortably.
The attendance is regular enough, but I don't think the men care
about it a bit in general. Several I can see bring in Euclids,
and other lecture books, and the service is gone through at a
great pace. I couldn't think at first why some of the men seemed
so uncomfortable and stiff about the legs at morning service, but
I find that they are the hunting set, and come in with pea-coats
over their pinks, and trousers over their leather breeches and
top-boots; which accounts for it. There are a few others who seem
very devout, and bow a good deal, and turn towards the altar at
different parts of the service. These are of the Oxford
High-church school, I believe; but I shall soon find out more
about them. On the whole I feel less at home at present, I am
sorry to say, in the chapel, than anywhere else.
"I was very near forgetting a great institution of the college,
which is the buttery-hatch, just opposite the hall-door. Here
abides the fat old butler (all the servants at St. Ambrose's are
portly), and serves out limited bread, butter, and cheese, and
unlimited beer brewed by himself, for an hour in the morning, at
noon, and again at supper-time. Your scout always fetches you a
pint or so on each occasion in case you should want it, and if
you don't, it falls to him; but I can't say that my fellow gets
much, for I am naturally a thirsty soul, and cannot often resist
the malt myself, coming up as it does, fresh and cool, in one of
the silver tankards, of which we seem to have an endless supply.
"I spent a day or two in the first week, before I got shaken down
into my place here, in going round and seeing the other colleges,
and finding out what great men had been at each (one got a taste
for that sort of work from the Doctor, and I'd nothing else to
do). Well, I never was more interested; fancy ferreting out
Wycliffe, the Black Prince, our friend Sir Walter Raleigh, Pym,
Hampden, Laud, Ireton, Butler, and Addison, in one afternoon. I
walked about two inches taller in my trencher cap after it.
Perhaps I may be going to make dear friends with some fellow who
will change the history of England. Why shouldn't I? There must
have been freshmen once who were chums of Wycliffe of Queen's, or
Raleigh of Oriel. I mooned up and down the High-street, staring
at all the young faces in caps, and wondering which of them would
turn out great generals, or statesmen, or poets. Some of them
will, of course, for there must be a dozen at least, I should
think, in every generation of undergraduates, who will have a
good deal to say to the ruling and guiding of the British nation
before they die.
"But, after all, the river is the feature of Oxford, to my mind;
a glorious stream, not five minutes' walk from the colleges,
broad enough in most places for three boats to row abreast. I
expect I will take to boating furiously: I have been down the
river three or four times already with some other freshmen, and
it is glorious exercise; that I can see, though we bungle and cut
crabs desperately at present.
"Here's a long yarn I'm spinning for you; and I dare say after
all you'll say it tells you nothing, and you'd rather have twenty
lines about the men, and what they're thinking about and the
meaning, and the inner life of the place, and all that. Patience,
patience! I don't know anything about it myself yet, and have had
only time to look at the shell, which is a very handsome and
stately affair; you shall have the kernel, if I ever get at it,
in due time.
"And now write me a long letter directly, and tell me about the
Doctor, and who are in the Sixth, and how the house goes on, and
what sort of an eleven there'll be, and what you are doing and
thinking about. Come up here try for a scholarship; I'll take you
in and show you the lions. Remember me to old friends.--Ever your
affectionately,
T. B."