Читать книгу The English Spy: An Original Work Characteristic, Satirical, And Humorous - C. M. Westmacott - Страница 18

May misery never press thee hard,

Ne'er may disease thy steps attend:

Listen, ye gents; rude Boreas hold your tongue!

The pomp advances, and my lyre is strung.

First comes Marshal Thackeray,

Dress'd out in crack array;

Ar'nt he a whacker, eh?

His way he picks,

Follow'd by six,

Like a hen by her chicks:

Enough! he's gone.

As this martial Marshall

Is to music partial,

The bandsmen march all

His heels upon.

He who hits the balls such thumps,

King of cricket-bats and stumps—

Barnard comes;

Sound the drums—

Silence! he's past.

Eight fair pages,

Of different ages,

Follow fast.

Next comes the Serjeant-Major,

Who, like an old stager,

Without need of bridle

Walks steadily; the same

Dolphin Major by name,

Major Dolphin by title.

Next struts Serjeant Brown,

Very gay you must own;

With gallant Mr. Hughes,

In well-polish'd shoes;

Then Sampson, who tramps on,

Strong as his namesake.

Then comes Webb, who don't dread

To die for his fame's sake.

Next shall I sing

Of Serjeant King,

And Horace Walpole,

Holding a tall pole,

Who follows King and Antrobus,

Though he's "pulchrior ambobus."

Be all thy wants by those supply'd,

Whom charity ne'er fail'd to move{5}:

5 This eccentric creature has for many years subsisted

entirely upon the bounty of the Etonians, and the

inhabitants of Windsor and Eton, who never fail to

administer to his wants, and liberally supply him with many

little comforts in return for his harmless pleasantries.

Then to Salthill speed on,

While the troops they lead on;

Both Mr. Beadon,

And Serjeant Mitford,

Who's ready to fi't for't.

Then Mr. Carter follows a'ter;

And Denman,

Worth ten men,

Like a Knight of the Garter;

And Cumberbatch,

Without a match,

Tell me, who can be smarter?

Then Colonel Hand,

Monstrous grand,

Closes the band.

Pass on, you nameless crowd,

Pass on. The Ensign proud

Comes near. Let all that can see

Behold the Ensign Dansey;

See with what elegance he

Waves the flag—to please the fancy.

Pass on, gay crowd; Le Mann, the big,

Bright with gold as a guinea-pig,

The big, the stout, the fierce Le Mann,

Walks like a valiant gentleman.

But take care of your pockets,

Here's Salt-bearer Platt,

With a bag in his hand,

And a plume in his hat;

A handsomer youth, sure small-clothes ne'er put on,

Though very near rival'd by elegant Sutton.

Thus then has pass'd this grand procession,

In most magnificent progression.

Farewell you gay and happy throng!

Etona's motto, crest, and pride,

Is feeling, courage, friendship, love.

Farewell my Muse! farewell my song'

Farewell Salthill! farewell brave Captain;

As ever uniform was clapt in;

Since Fortune's kind, pray do not mock her;

Your humble poet,

HERBERT STOCKHORE.

Herbert Stockhore was originally a bricklayer, and now resides at a little house which he has built for himself, and called Mount Pleasant, in a lane leading from Windsor to the Meadows. He has a wife and daughter, honest, industrious people, who reside with him, and are by no means displeased at the visit of a stranger to their eccentric relative. Some idea of the old man's amusing qualifications may be conceived from the following description, to which I have added the account he gives of his heraldic bearings. It must be recollected that the Etonians encourage these whims in the poor old man, and never lose an opportunity of impressing Stockhore with a belief in the magnificent powers of his genius.—After we had heard him recite several of his unconnected extempore rhapsodies, we were to be indulged with the Montem ode; this the old man insisted should be spoken in his gala dress; nor could all the entreaties of his wife and daughter, joined to those of myself and friend (fearful of appearing obtrusive), dissuade old Herbert from his design. He appeared quite frantic with joy when the dame brought forth from an upper apartment these insignia of his laureateship; the careful manner in which they were folded up and kept clean gave us to understand that the good woman herself set some store by them. The wife and daughter now proceeded to robe the laureate bard: the first garment which was placed over his shoulders, and came below his waist, was a species of tunic made out of patches of bed-furniture, trimmed in the most fantastic manner with fragments of worsted fringe of all colors. Over this he wore an old military jacket, of a very ancient date in respect to costume, and trimmed like the robe with fringe of every variety. A pair of loose trowsers of the same materials as the tunic were also displayed; but the fashion of the poet's head-dress exceeded all the rest for whimsicality: round an old soldier's cap a sheet of pasteboard was bent to a spiral form, rising about fourteen inches, and covered with some pieces of chintz bed-furniture of a very rich pattern; in five separate circles, was disposed as many different colors of fringes; some worsted twisted, to resemble feathers, was suspended from the side; and the whole had the most grotesque appearance, more nearly resembling the papal crown in similitude than any thing else I can conceive.

Poor harmless soul, thy merry stave

Shall live when nobler poets bend;

The poor old fellow seemed elated to a degree. We had sent for a little ale for him, but were informed he was not accustomed to drink much of any strong liquor. After a glass, Herbert recited with great gesture and action, but in a very imperfect manner, the Montem ode; and then for a few minutes seemed quite exhausted. During this exhibition my friend Transit was engaged in sketching his portrait, a circumstance that appeared to give great pleasure to the wife and daughter, who earnestly requested, if it was published, to be favored with a copy. We had now become quite familiar with the old man, and went with him to view his Montem car and Arabian pony, as he called them, in a stable adjoining the house. On our return, my friend Transit observed that his cart required painting, and should be decorated with some appropriate emblem. Herbert appeared to understand the idea, and immediately proceeded to give us a history of his heraldic bearings, or, as he said, what his coat of arms should be, which, he assured us, the gentlemen of Eton had subscribed for, and were having prepared at the Heralds' College in London, on purpose for him to display next Montem. "My grand-father," said Stockhore, "was a hatter, therefore I am entitled to the beaver in the first quarter of my shield. My grandfather by my mother's side was a farmer, therefore I should have the wheat-sheaf on the other part. My own father was a pipe-maker, and that gives me a noble ornament, the cross pipes and glasses, the emblems of good fellowship. Now my wife's father was a tailor, and that yields me a goose: those are the bearings of the four quarters of my shield. Now, sir, I am a poet—ay, the poet laureate of Montem; and that gives me a right to the winged horse for my crest. There's a coat of arms for you," said poor Herbert; "why, it would beat every thing but the king's; ay, and his too, if it wasn't for the lion and crown." The attention we paid to this whim pleased the poor creature mightily; he was all animation and delight. But the day was fast declining: so, after making the poor people a trifling present for the trouble we had given them, my friend Transit and myself took our farewell of poor Herbert, not, I confess, without regret; for I think the reader will perceive by this brief sketch thero is great character and amusement in his harmless whims. I have been thus particular in my description of him, because he is always at Montem time an object of much curiosity; and to every Etonian of the last thirty years, his peculiarities must have frequently afforded amusement.

And when Atropos to the grave

Thy silvery locks of gray shall send,

Etona's sons shall sing thy fame,

Ad Montem still thy verse resound, Still live an ever cherish'd name, As long as salt{2} and sock abound. 2 Salt is the name given to the money collected at Montem.