Read Ebook: Oxford Days; or How Ross Got His Degree by Weatherly F E Frederic Edward

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Ebook has 456 lines and 40842 words, and 10 pages

Frank departed, and, making friends with the Porter, told him all that had passed.

"Ah! you're all right, sir," said George; and George's statement proved true.

In about three-quarters of an hour the Master and Fellows came out of the hall and dispersed to their respective rooms, and presently George appeared with a piece of blue paper, which he nailed on the gate. Five names--Frank's second, and Monkton's absent.

"Those gentlemen that mean to reside this term," said George, "are to call on the Dean between five and six this evening, and bring their fees. Those that don't are to leave Oxford at once, and notice will be sent to them in the Long Vacation before next term begins."

Frank meant to reside, and was one of the first to call on the Dean. That gentleman received him courteously; told him he had done very fairly in the examination; hoped he would read hard and be steady; asked him his name, age, father's name, residence, and profession, and various other particulars, all of which he entered in a book; received his caution-money , and told him to ask the Porter the staircase and number of the rooms allotted to him.

"Be here," he added, as Frank was leaving, "at a quarter to ten to-morrow morning, that I may take you before the Vice-Chancellor."

"Yours are No. 5, sir, three-pair right."

Frank stared.

"No. 5 over the doorway, sir," he then explained, pointing across the quadrangle to a doorway, over which Frank discerned the wished-for number; "three flights o' stairs; the rooms on the right hand. No. 5, three-pair right--that's how we call it. You'll find your scout there. You're too late for dinner. The hall-bell went twenty minutes ago."

Three years later, when pressed by duns and threatened with proceedings in the Vice-Chancellor's Court, Frank remembered these gentle disclaimers of any wish for payment.

What with talking to his scout and unpacking, nine o'clock soon arrived: the hour when the kitchen and buttery were opened for supper. William suggested that his master would like some supper, and in a short time supper was brought.

"I shan't eat all that," expostulated Frank, when he saw the plateful of meat and lumps of bread and butter.

"Only one 'commons,' sir," replied William.

Frank said nothing, but saw distinctly that the standard called "one commons," for which his father would have to pay daily through his three or four years, was based on the principle that "what is ordered for one should be enough for two." However, he enjoyed his supper; and so did the scout, who carried home his share, with similar portions from the other six rooms on the staircase to which it was his duty to attend.

The following morning, duly attired in cap and gown, with white tie and black coat at William's suggestion, Frank betook himself to the Dean's rooms. There he met the four other Freshmen who had "passed" with him, was asked if he had his fee ready, and then conducted in a sheepish, silent procession, headed by the Dean, to the Vice-Chancellor. There were several groups of Freshmen standing with their respective Deans, Vice-Principals, or other college officials. Then they were all told to write their names in a book in Latin--a novel though not difficult feat, which Frank, with the assistance of his Dean, accomplished.

"Ross, Franciscus, filius Armigeri, ? collegio S. Pauli."

"Term. Pasch. "Oxoniae, die Ap. 27mo, Anno Domini 187--.

"Quo die comparuit coram me Franciscus Ross, ? Coll. S. Pauli, Arm. Fil. et admonitus est de observandis statutis hujus Universitatis et in matriculam Universitatis relatus est.

He was now fully matriculated, and amenable to all the details of University discipline. At six o'clock he dined in Hall--his first dinner--not without the usual blunder of seating himself at a table appropriated to undergraduates at least two years his seniors; and at eight went to chapel--the hour being changed on first nights in term from half-past five to eight, to enable men from distant homes to put in an appearance. The chapel was very much crowded, Paul's having considerably outgrown its accommodation; but it was only on first nights that the inconvenience was felt, for as it was not necessary to attend service more than four times in the week, all the men were never there together.

Coming out, he met several old school-fellows, and the senior of them carried them all off to his lodgings in Holywell Street, where over wine and pipes they sat chatting till past ten o'clock; Frank, for the most part, listening without saying much, for he was but a Freshman, and this his first pipe.

When he got back to Paul's he found the gates locked; but as he had read "Verdant Green" very carefully, he did not think it necessary to apologize to George for giving him the trouble of opening. He knew that "knocking in" before eleven o'clock only meant twopence in his weekly "battels."

That night, when he got into bed, though he did not feel quite a "man," he felt conscious of having undergone some considerable change since he left home on Tuesday morning.

AN OXFORD SUNDAY.

On Sunday morning he woke to the words that, without the slightest variation in time or tone of delivery, called him daily for the three years that he resided in college--"Half-past seven, sir! Do you breakfast in?"

This was the scout's gentle hint that chapel service was within half an hour, and his form of inquiry whether his young master intended breakfasting in his own rooms or was going elsewhere for the meal.

Frank, when he fully realized the meaning, answered "Yes," and with a freshman's energy jumped out of bed, and was dressed before the chapel bell began to ring. Hurrying down-stairs, in fear of being late, he was stopped by William, with the suggestion that there was "no call to go yet, till the bell began to swear!"

This elegant expression, Frank learnt, is applied to the quickened and louder ringing of the bell for the five minutes immediately preceding service. He found, not many days after, that it was quite possible, by the aid of an Ulster, and postponement of ablutions, to get to chapel in time if he slept till the "swearing" began.

From him Frank learnt that he would have to read the first lesson in chapel for six consecutive days in his turn; but that, being a freshman, his turn would not come for some time yet.

On returning to his rooms he found his breakfast laid, the kettle simmering, and letters lying on the table; one from home; the rest, the circulars that flatter the freshman's dignity, and coax him into becoming a customer.

The foundation breakfast consists of bread, butter, and milk, and in some colleges two eggs. These articles are brought by the scouts from the buttery, and entered by the buttery-clerk to the respective undergraduates. The bread, butter, and milk are distributed in "commons," the rate charged being above that of tradesmen outside college, and the quantity being, in the case of most men, certainly too much for one meal. The remains belong to the scout.

Fish, poultry, meat , are supplied from the kitchen. For some items the charges are reasonable, for others exorbitant. Naturally, therefore, it is in "kitchen-orders" that the careful student can economize, if only he can stand against the Oxford custom, fostered by the scouts, of ordering too much. For at least three days in the week the two customary eggs, with bread and butter, are surely enough for breakfast, a kitchen-order being thereby avoided. The too common habit, however, is to discard the eggs , and eat meat. It is quite conceivable that, after one breakfast on one staircase where eight men live, the scout may put into his basket sixteen eggs.

Tea, coffee, chocolate, cocoa, sugar, and so on, are in some colleges procurable from the Common-room-stores, an establishment resembling an Italian warehouse and wine-and-spirit-vault combined. Custom, if not college regulations, will compel the undergraduate to deal with the Common-room-man.

At Paul's there is no such establishment, but William very kindly supplied the deficiency by ordering in, from one of the nearest--and dearest--grocers, a good stock of tea , coffee, candles, matches, scented soap, biscuits, jam, marmalade, till Frank was quite bewildered at the thought of the room necessary for storing these delicacies. However, they did not last long.

One of the most iniquitous and yet plausible practices is that pursued at some colleges--Paul's among the number--of compelling undergraduates to deal at certain shops.

Anything in the way of paper, paint, or furniture, has to be procured at one of the shops attached to the college. These are invariably the dearest, charging for their goods 25 and 30 per cent. more than the many other establishments which struggle against these monopolies.

The reason given by the college authorities for this system is that they are obliged to exercise some principle of selection of the workmen allowed within the college walls, indiscriminate admission being open to risk. The reason is plausible enough, but it is based entirely on the supposition that the workmen employed by expensive firms alone are honest. Further, what risk could there be in the conveyance of a piece of furniture to the college gates, when its removal to the rooms of the purchaser would be the work of the college servants?

The only method of avoiding the tyranny of the system is to employ one of the railway carriers. The college porter, on the presumption that the article has come by rail from the undergraduate's home, is obliged to admit it.

Anything like opposition to the regulation appears at present to be useless. One daring undergraduate at Paul's, who ventured to remonstrate with his college dean , was met with this characteristic answer:--"It is our system. If you don't like it, the college gates are open. You can remove your name from the college books. We won't detain you."--an answer perfectly admissible from the proprietor of any establishment, but insolent and unwarrantable from one who, after all, is but an administrator in a corporate institution.

And so it would be possible to go on and enumerate many instances in which not only custom among his companions, but college regulations compel the undergraduate to be extravagant and wasteful. Homes are crippled, younger brothers and sisters deprived of the education which is their due, and the much-vaunted University extension limited by the very administration of the bodies that ought, and do profess, to foster it. Questions of domestic economy are ignored by the various commissions, though they lie at the very root of University extension. Let additional Scholarships be founded to enable more students to come to the University; let additional teaching power be endowed with professorships, lectureships, and readerships, by all means; but let perquisites be pruned down; let the enormous profits of catering cooks and butlers be decreased; let room-rent be lowered; let "servants' dues" pay the servants, and not need to be supplemented by charges which never appear in the college accounts; let trade be free in the town; let every man buy where he pleases; that is the way to extend the benefits of University education--that is the way to enable those to profit by it who are at present debarred--that is the way to enable families, which now struggle to send one son to the University, to send two for an equivalent outlay. There can be no doubt of the unnecessary waste and extravagance in the domestic economy of the colleges when it is remembered that though collegiate life, based as it is on communistic principles, ought to be cheaper than any other form of student life, as a matter of fact it is considerably more expensive.

To return to Frank's breakfast. He found some difficulty in boiling his eggs and making his tea. But he concealed his ignorance and ate the eggs, and drank his tea like dish-water.

About a quarter to ten some one banged at his door, and entered with the bang. The visitor was Crawford, of Brasenose, an old school-fellow of Frank's, who had gone up about three years previously.

"Hullo, young man! not finished breakfast yet!"

His cheery greeting was delightful to Frank, who felt he had in him a true friend.

A man about three years senior to a freshman--what a power, for good or evil, he has! His seniority inspires reverence and commands imitation. Luckily, Crawford was a thoroughly sterling fellow. He had come to Oxford in earnest. When he worked he worked; when he played he played. There was the same vigour in his work as in his "stroke" on the river or "rush" at football. He kept chapels regularly; he said, because morning-chapel gave him a long day. There was a more earnest reason concealed behind this; but he had a horror of the dangers of cant. He knew what lectures were worth attending, and attended them. He ridiculed and cut the worthless. He knew who were the best "coaches," and said so. He abused the charlatans. In all matters of social etiquette he was an old-fashioned Conservative; for example, he always wore a black coat and tall hat on Sundays, and roundly abused those who loafed in light suits; and he never carried an umbrella or wore gloves when attired in cap and gown--a rather silly custom, perhaps; but its observance in the face of innovations marks the man.

After a little chat on school matters, Crawford told Frank he was going to the University sermon; and without any compunction told him--not asked him--to accompany him.

Frank, nothing loth, took his cap and gown, and they went together.

St. Mary's does double duty: as a parish church and as the University church; and here the University sermons are preached at 10.30 a.m. and 2 p.m. on each Sunday in full term, except those of the Dean of Christ-Church, or the Fellows of New College, Magdalen, and Merton, which are or may be preached in the cathedral and in the chapels of those colleges respectively.

The nave--the part appropriated to the University--was crowded when Frank and his companion entered, for the preacher was a popular one. In the gallery, facing that by the west window assigned to undergraduates, the University organist, Mr. Taylor, was already seated at the organ, with six or eight chorister boys round him. One of these hung a board, with the number of the selected hymn, over the gallery, and then the voluntary commenced.

At 10.30 precisely the procession entered at the north door: the vice-chancellor, preceded by his mace-bearers, the esquire bedels and marshals, and followed by the heads of houses, the preacher, and the proctors. Then the whole congregation rose and, led by the choristers, sang the hymn appointed. Afterwards came the quaint "bidding prayer," still used in most cathedrals, but made especially quaint in a University city by the long lists of founders and benefactors; and then the sermon. At a quarter to twelve all was over, and Frank was sitting in the window of Crawford's rooms in Brasenose; and as he looked out on the sunny Radcliffe Square, with St. Mary's graceful spire, the black frowning "schools," and the pepper-box towers of All Souls, he heard with reverent admiration that these were Bishop Heber's rooms, that here he must have sat, and here he must have written that famous Newdigate prize-poem, "Palestine," by which he will always be remembered.

Over the chimney looking-glass hung a gilded face, with an enormous nose, the emblem of the college. The pictures on the panelled walls Frank soon became more intimately acquainted with, for he found copies in most of his friends' rooms. There were "The Huguenots," "The Black Brunswicker," Landseer's "Challenge," "Retreat," and "Monarch of the Glen," of course, and many others of a more recent date. Three or four pairs of boxing-gloves lay in one corner, dumb-bells in another. Against the wall, in racks, pipes of various descriptions, from the short briar-root to the china bowl of the German student , racket-bats, and an oar, fondly cherished, that had helped to bring victory to the Brasenose "four" a few years back at Henley.

At one o'clock Crawford's scout appeared, and almost at the same moment three invited friends, strangers to Frank. At Oxford luncheon or breakfast parties, etiquette does not require that the guests should arrive late. The lunch was as follows:--

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