Part 7

The bores heed I understande Is the thefte servyce in this lande, Take where ever it be fande, Servite cum cantico.

Be gladde lordes bothe more and lasse, For this hath ordeyned our stewarde, To chere you all this Christmasse, The bores heed with mustarde.

"This carol (says Warton,) with many alterations, is yet retained at Queen's College, Oxford," though "other ancient carols occur with Latin burthens or Latin intermixtures." But, "Being anxious to obtain a correct copy of this ballad," says Dr. Dibdin, in his AMES, "as I had myself heard it sung in the Hall of Queen's College, I wrote to the Rev. Mr. Dickinson, Tutor of the College, to favour me with an account of it: his answer, which may gratify the curious, is here subjoined.

"'_Queen's College, June 7th_, 1811.

"'DEAR SIR,--I have much pleasure in transmitting you a copy of the old _Boar's Head Song_, as it has been sung in our College-hall, every Christmas Day, within my remembrance. There are some barbarisms in it, which seem to betoken its antiquity. It is sung to the common chaunt of the prose version of the Psalms in cathedrals; at least, whenever I have attended the service at Magdalen or New College Chapels, I have heard the Boar's Head strain continually occurring in the Psalms.

"'The boar's head in hand bring I, Bedeck'd with bays and rosemary; And I pray you, my masters, be merry, Quot estis in convivio. _Caput apri defero_ _Reddens laudes Domino_.

"'The boar's head, as I understand, Is the rarest dish in all this land, Which thus bedeck'd with a gay garland, Let us servire Cantico. _Caput apri defero_ _Reddens laudes Domino_.

"'Our steward hath provided this In honour of the King of Bliss; Which on this day to be served is, In Regimensi Atrio. _Caput apri defero_ _Reddens laudes Domino_.'"

"The following," adds the Doctor, "is Hearne's minute account of it: (_Hist. Guil. Neubrig. vol. iii. p. 743:_) 'I will beg leave here,' says the pugnacious Oxford antiquary, 'to give an exact copy of the CHRISTMAS CAROL _upon the Boar's Head_, (which is an ancient dish, and was brought up by King Henry I. with trumpets, before his son, when his said son was crowned) as I have it in an old fragment, (for I usually preserve even fragments of old books) of the Christmas Carols printed by Wynkyn de Worde, (who as well as Richard Pynson, was servant to William Caxton, who was the first that printed English books, though not the first printer in England, as is commonly said,) printing being exercised at Oxford in 1468, if not sooner, which was several years before he printed anything at Westminster, by which it will be perceived how much the said carol is altered, as it is sung in some places even now, from what it was at first. It is the last thing, it seems, of the book (which I never yet saw entire,) and at the same time I think it proper also to add to the printer's conclusion, for this reason, at least, that such as write about our first printers, may have some notice of the date of this book, and the exact place where printed, provided they cannot be able to meet with it, as I believe they will find it pretty difficult to do, it being much laid aside, about the time that some of David's Psalms came to be used in its stead.'"

THIS CUSTOM

Is briefly noticed in Pointer's "_Oxoniensis Academia_," as "that of having a boar's head, or the figure of one in wood, brought up in the hall every year on Christmas Day, ushered in very solemnly with an old song, in memory of a noble exploit (as tradition goes,) by a scholar (a Tabardar) of this college, in killing a wild boar in Shotover Wood." That is, having wandered into the said wood, which was not far from Oxford, with a copy of Aristotle in his hand (for the Oxonians were of old logicians of the orthodox school in which an Alexander the Great was bred,) and if the latter, as a pupil who sat at the foot of Aristotle, conquered _a world_, no wonder our Tabardar, as a disciple being attacked by a wild boar, who came at him with extended jaws, intending to make but _a mouthful of him_, was enabled to conquer so rude a beast, which he _did_ by thrusting the Aristotle down the boar's throat, crying, in the concluding words of the 5th stanza of the following song--'GRÆCUM EST.' The animal of course fell prostrate at his feet, was carried in triumph to the college, and no doubt served up with _an 'old song,'_ as Mr. Pointer says, in memory of this "_noble exploit_." The witty _Dr. Buckler_, however, is not satisfied with this brief notice of Mr. Pointer's: but says, in his _never-to-be-forgotten_ exposé, or "Complete Vindication," of _The All-Souls' Mallard_ (of which anon,) "I am apt to fear, that it is a fixed principle in Mr. _Pointer_ to ridicule every _ceremony_ and _solemn institution_ that comes in his way, however venerable it may be for its antiquity and significance;" and after quoting Mr. Pointer's words, he adds, with his _unrivalled irony_, "now, notwithstanding this _bold hint_ to the contrary, it seemeth to me to be altogether unaccountable and incredible, that a polite and learned society should be so far depraved, in its taste, and so much in love with a _block-head_, as to eat it. But as I have never had the honour of dining at a _boar's head_, and there are many gentlemen more nearly concerned and better informed, as well as better qualified, in every respect, to refute this _calumny_ than I am, I shall avoid entering into a thorough discussion of this subject. I know it is given out by Mr. Pointer's enemies, that he hath been employed by some of the _young seceders_ from that college, to throw out a Story of the _Wooden-head_, in order to countenance the complaints of those gentlemen about _short commons_, and the great deficiency of _mutton_, _beef_, &c.; and, indeed, I must say, that nothing could have better answered their purpose, in this respect, than in proving, according to the _insinuation_, that the chief dish at one of their highest festivals, was nothing but a log of Wood _bedeck'd with bays and rosemary_; but surely this cannot be credited, after the _university_ has been informed by the _best authority_, and in the most _public_ Manner, that a _young Nobleman_, who lately completed his academical education at that house, was, during his whole residence, not only very _well satisfied_ but _extremely delighted_ with the college commons."

In the Oxford Sausage is the following

RYGHTE EXCELLENTE SONG IN HONOUR OF THE CELEBRATION OF THE BOAR'S HEAD, AT QUEEN'S COLLEGE, OXFORD.

_Tam Marti quam Mercurio._

I sing not of Rome or Grecian mad games. The Pythian, Olympic, and such like hard names; Your patience awhile, with submission, I beg, I strive but to honour the feast of Coll. Reg. Derry down, down, down, derry down.

No Thracian brawls at our rites e'er prevail, We temper our mirth with plain sober mild ALE; The tricks of Old Circe deter us from Wine: Though we honour a boar, we won't make ourselves Swine. Derry down, &c.

Great Milo was famous for slaying his Ox, Yet he proved but an ass _in cleaving of blocks_: But we had a hero for all things was fit, Our Motto displays both his Valour and Wit. Derry down, &c.

Stout Hercules labour'd, and look'd mighty big, When he slew the half-starved Erymanthian Pig; But we can relate such a stratagem taken, That the stoutest of Boars could not _save his own Bacon_. Derry down, &c.

So dreadful his bristle-back'd foe did appear, You'd have sworn he had got the wrong _Pig by the ear_, But instead of avoiding the mouth of the beast, He ramm'd in a volume, and cried--_Græcum est_. Derry down, &c.

In this gallant action such fortitude shown is, As proves him no coward, nor tender Adonis; No Armour but Logic; by which we may find, That Logic's the bulwark of body and mind. Derry down, &c.

Ye Squires that fear neither hills nor rough rocks, And think you're full wise when you out-wit a Fox; Enrich your poor brains, and expose them no more, Learn Greek, and seek glory from hunting the Boar. Derry down, &c.

* * * * *

CLEAVING THE BLOCK,

Is another custom that either _was_, or _is_, annually celebrated at Queen's College, Oxford, not _pro bono publico_, it seems, but pro bono _cook-o!_ and has a reference, probably, to the exploit in which Milo "proved but an ass," as observed in the second line of the third verse of the foregoing song. _On dit_, every Christmas, New Year's, or some other day, at that season of the year, _a block of wood_ is placed at the hall-door, where the _cook_ stands with his _cleaver_, which he delivers to each member of the College, as he passes out of the Hall, who endeavours, at _one_ stroke, to sever the block of wood; failing to do which, he throws down half-a-crown, in which sum he is _mulct_. This is done by every one in succession, should they, as is invariably the case, prove themselves asses in "cleaving of blocks." But should any one out-Milo Milo, he would be entitled to all the half-crowns previously forfeited: otherwise the whole _goes to the cook_.

* * * * *

THE MISFORTUNE OF BEING LITTLE.

Lord Byron has said, that a man is unfortunate whose name will admit of being _punned upon_. The lament might apply to all peculiarities of person and habit. Dr. Joseph Jowett, the late regius professor of civil law at Cambridge, though a learned man, an able lecturer, one that generously fostered talent in rising young men, and a _dilettante_ musician of a refined and accurate taste, was remarkable for some singularities, as smallness of stature, and for gardening upon a small scale. This gave the late Bishop Mansel or Porson (for it has been attributed to both, and both were capable of perpetrating it) an occasion to throw off

THE FOLLOWING LATIN EPIGRAM:

Exiguum hunc hortum Jowettulus iste Exiguus, vallo et muriit exiguo: Exiguo hoc horto forsan Jowettulus iste Exiguus mentem prodidit exiguum.

IN ENGLISH, AS MUCH AS TO SAY:

A _little_ garden _little_ Jowett had, And fenced it with a _little_ palisade: Because this garden made a _little_ talk, He changed it to a _little_ gravel walk: And if you'ld know the taste of _little_ Jowett, This _little_ garden doth a _little_ show it.

* * * * *

BISHOPS BLOMFIELD AND MONK,

Who had the honour to edit his _Adversaria_, can both, it is said, bear witness to the fact, that Porson was unlike many pedants who make a display of their brilliant parts to surprise rather than enlighten; he was liberal in the extreme, and truly amiable in communicating his knowledge to young men of talent and industry, and would tell them all they wanted to know in a plain and direct manner, without any attempt to display his superiority. All, however, agree that the time for profiting by Porson's learning was _inter bibendum_, for then, as Chaucer says of the Sompnour--

"When he well dronkin had with wine, Then would he speak ne word but Latine."

More than one distinguished judge of his merits

PRONOUNCED HIM THE GREATEST SCHOLAR IN EUROPE,

And he never appeared so sore, says one who knew him well, as when a _Wakefield_ or a _Hermann_ offered to set him right, or hold their tapers to light him on his way. Their doing so gave him occasion to compare them to _four-footed animals, guided only by instinct_; and in future, he said, he "would take care they should not reach what he wrote with their paws, though they stood on their hind legs." I may here very appropriately repeat the fact, that

PORSON WAS A GREAT MASTER OF IAMBIC MEASURE,

As he has shown in his preface to the second edition of his Hecuba. The German critic, Hermann, however, whom he makes to say, in his notes on the Medea, "We Germans understand quantity better than the English," accuses him of being more dictatorial than explanatory in his metrical decisions. Upon this the professor fired the following epigram at the German:--

[Greek: Nêi des esnte metrôn ô Teutones, ouch ho men, hos d' ou, Pantes plên 'Ermannos, ho d' 'Ermannos sphodra Teutôn.]

The Germans in Greek, Are sadly to seek; Not five in five score, But ninety-five more; All, save only Hermann, And Hermann's a German.

PORSON AND WAKEFIELD

Had but little regard for each other, and when the latter published his _Hecuba_, Porson said--

"What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should publish her?"

At another time, being teased for his opinion of a modern Latin poem, his reply was,--"There is a great deal in it from _Horace_, and a great deal from _Virgil_: but nothing _Horatian_ and nothing _Virgilian_."

Dr. Parr once asked the professor, "what he thought of the origin of evil?" "_I see no good in it_," was his answer.

The same pugnacious divine told him one day, that "with all his learning, he did not think him well versed in metaphysics." "Sir," said Porson, "I suppose you mean _your_ metaphysics."

It is not generally known that during the time he was employed in deciphering the famed Rosetta stone, in the collection of the British Museum, which is _black_,

HE OBTAINED THE SOUBRIQUET OF JUDGE BLACKSTONE.

And it is here worthy of remark, that it was to another celebrated Cantab, Porson's contemporary, Dr. Edward Daniel Clarke, the traveller, that we are indebted for that relique of antiquity. He happened to be in Egypt at the time the negociation for the evacuation of that country by the remnant of Bonaparte's army was progressing between Lord Hutchinson and the French General, Menou. Knowing the French were in possession of the famed Rosetta stone, amongst other reliques, Clarke's sagacity induced him to point out to Lord Hutchinson the importance of possessing it. The consequence was, he was named as one of the parties to negociate with Menou for the surrender of that and their other Egyptian monuments and valuable reliques which the _sçavans_ attached to the French army had sedulously collected; and notwithstanding every impediment and even insult were heaped upon, and thrown in Clarke's way, his perseverance was proof against it all. Indeed,

DR. EDWARD DANIEL CLARKE,

Whose name and writings are now justly celebrated throughout the civilized world, was from his very childhood (says his biographer, contemporary, and friend, the learned Principal of King's College, London,) an enthusiast in whatever he undertook, and always possessed, in a very high degree, the power of interesting the minds of others towards any objects that occupied his own. This was remarkably illustrated by his manufacture of

A BALLOON, WITH WHICH HE AMUSED THE UNIVERSITY,

In the third year of his residence, when not more than eighteen, probably the only instance of a member of either university constructing one. It "was magnificent in size, and splendid in its decorations, and was constructed and manoeuvred, from first to last, entirely by himself. It was the contrivance of many anxious thoughts, and the labour of many weeks, to bring it to what he wished; and when, at last, it was completed to his satisfaction, and had been suspended for some days in the college hall, of which it occupied the whole height, he announced a time for its ascension. There was nothing at that period very new in balloons, or very curious in the species he had adopted; but by some means he had contrived to disseminate, not only within his own college, but throughout the whole university, a prodigious curiosity respecting the fate of this experiment; and a vast concourse of persons assembled, both within and without the college walls; and the balloon having been brought to its station, the grass-plot within the cloisters of Jesus' College, was happily launched by himself, amidst the applause of all ranks and degrees of gownsmen, the whole scene succeeding to his wish; nor is it very easy to forget the delight which flashed from _his_ eye, and the triumphant wave of _his_ cap, when the machine, with its little freight (a kitten,) having cleared the college battlements, was seen floating in full security over the towers of the great gate, followed in its course by several persons on horseback, who had undertaken to recover it; and all went home delighted with an exhibition upon which nobody would have ventured, in such a place, but himself. But to gratify and amuse others was ever the source of the greatest satisfaction to him." This was one of those early displays of that spirit of enterprise which was so gloriously developed in his subsequent wanderings through the dreary regions of the north, over the classic shores of mouldering Greece, of Egypt, and of Palestine, the scenes of which, and their effects upon his vivid imagination and sanguine spirit, he has so admirably depicted in his writings. This eminent traveller used to say, that the old proverb,

"WITH TOO MANY IRONS IN THE FIRE SOME MUST BURN,"

"Was a lie." Use poker, tongs, shovel, and all,--only keep them all stirring, was his creed. Few had the capacity of keeping them so effectually stirring as he had. Nature seemed to have moulded him, head and heart, to be in a degree a contradiction to the wise saws of experience.

* * * * *

THREE BLUE BEANS IN A BLADDER.

Dr. Bentley said of our celebrated Cambridge Professor, Joshua Barnes, that "he knew about as much Greek as an Athenian blacksmith," but he was certainly no ordinary scholar, and few have excelled him in his tact at throwing of "trifles light as air" in that language, of which his following version of _three blue beans in a bladder_ is a sample:

[Greek: Treis kyamoi eni kystidi kyaneêphi.]

Equal to this is the following spondaic on

THE THREE UNIVERSITY BEDELS,

By Kit Smart, who well deserved, though Dr. Johnson denied him, a place in his British Poets. He possessed great wit and sprightliness of conversation, which would readily flow off in extemporaneous verse, says Dyer, and the three university bedels all happening to be fat men, he thus immortalized them:

"Pinguia tergeminorum abdomina Bedellorum."

(Three bedels sound, with paunches fat and round.)

* * * * *

NO SCHOLAR IN EUROPE UNDERSTOOD THEM BETTER.

It is recorded of another Cambridge Clarke, the Rev. John, who was successively head-master of the grammar schools of Skipton, Beverley, and Wakefield in Yorkshire, and obtained the honourable epithet of "_The good school-master_"--that when he presented himself to our great critic, Dr. Richard Bentley, at Trinity College, Cambridge, for admission, the Doctor proceeded to examine him, as is usual, and placed before him a page of the Greek text, with the Scholia, for the purpose. "He explained the whole," says his memorialist, Dr. Zouch, "with the utmost perspicuity, elegance, and ease. Dr. Bentley immediately presented him with a valuable edition of the Comedies of Aristophanes, telling him, in language peculiar to himself, that no scholar in Europe understood them better, _one person only excepted_." Dyer has the following

BENTLEIAN ANECDOTE

In his Supplement, but supposes it cannot be charged upon the Doctor, "the greatest Greek scholar of his age." He is said to have set a scholar a copy of Greek verses, by way of _imposition_, for some offence against college discipline. Having completed his verses, he brought them to the Doctor, who had not proceeded far in examining them before he was struck with a passage, which he pronounced _bad_ Greek. "Yet, sir," said the scholar, with submission, "I thought I had followed good authority," and taking a Pindar out of his pocket, he pointed to a similar expression. The Doctor was satisfied, but, continuing to read on, he soon found another passage, which he said was certainly bad Greek. The young man took his Pindar out of his pocket again, and showed another passage, which he had followed as his authority. The Doctor was a little nettled, but he proceeded to the end of the verses, when he observed another passage at the close, which he affirmed was not classical. "Yet Pindar," rejoined the young man, "was my authority even here," and he pointed out the place which he had closely imitated. "Get along, sir," exclaimed the Doctor, rising from his chair in a passion, "Pindar was very bold, and you are very impudent."

* * * * *

THE GREAT GAUDY OF THE ALL-SOULS' MALLARD.

This feast is annually celebrated the 14th of January, by the Society of All-Souls, _in piam memoriam_ of their founder, the famous Henry Chichele, Archbishop of Canterbury. It is a custom at All-Souls' College (says Pointer, in his OXONIENSIS ACADEMIA,) kept up on "their mallard-night every year, in remembrance of a huge mallard or drake, found (as tradition goes) imprisoned in a gutter or drain under ground, and grown to a vast bigness, at the digging for the foundation of the college." This mallard had grown to a huge size, and was, it appears, of a great age; and to account for the longevity, he cites the Ornithology of Willughby, who observes, "that he was assured by a friend of his, a person of very good credit, that his father kept a goose known to be sixty years of age, and as yet sound and lusty, and like enough to have lived many years longer, had he not been forced to kill her, for her mischievousness, worrying and destroying the young geese and goslings." "And my Lord Bacon," he adds, "in his Natural History, says, the goose may pass among the long-livers, though his food be commonly grass and such kind of nourishment, especially the wild goose; wherefore this proverb grew among the Germans, _Magis senex quam Anser nivalis--Older than a wild-goose_." He might also have instanced the English proverb, "As tough as a Michaelmas goose." "If a goose be such a long-lived bird," observes Mr. P., "why not a duck or a drake, since I reckon they may be both ranked in the same class, though of a different species, as to their size, as a rat and a mouse? And if so, this may help to give credit to our All-Souls' mallard. However, this is certain, this mallard is the accidental occasion of a great gaudy once a-year, and great mirth, though the commemoration of their founder is the chief occasion; for on this occasion is always sung," as extant in the Oxford Sausage, the following "merry old song:"--

THE ALL-SOULS' MALLARD.

Griffin, bustard, turkey, capon, Let our hungry mortals gape on, And on their bones their stomach fall hard, But All-Souls' men have their MALLARD. Oh! by the blood of King Edward, Oh! by the blood of King Edward, It was a swapping, swapping, MALLARD.

The _Romans_ once admired a _gander_ More than they did their chief commander, Because he saved, if some don't fool us, The place that's called from the _Head of Tolus_. Oh! by the blood, &c.

The poets feign _Jove_ turned a swan, But let them prove it if they can; As for our proof, 'tis not at all hard, For it was a swapping, swapping MALLARD. Oh! for the blood, &c.

Swapping he was from bill to eye, Swapping he was from wing to thigh; Swapping--his age and corporation Out-swapped all the winged creation. Oh! for the blood, &c.

Therefore let us sing and dance a galliard, To the remembrance of the MALLARD; And as the MALLARD dives in a pool, Let us dabble, dive, and duck in a bowl. Oh! by the blood of King Edward, Oh! by the blood of King Edward, It was a swapping, swapping MALLARD.