Читать книгу The English Spy: An Original Work Characteristic, Satirical, And Humorous - C. M. Westmacott - Страница 23
ETON MONTEM.
ОглавлениеStand by, old Cant, while I admire
The young and gay, with souls of fire,
Unloose the cheerful heart.
Hence with thy puritanic zeal;
True virtue is to grant and feel—
A bliss thou'lt ne'er impart.
I love thee, Montem—love thee, by all the brightest recollections of my youth, for the inspiring pleasures which thy triennial pageant revives in my heart: joined with thy merry throng, I can forget the cares and disappointments of the world; and, tripping gaily with the light-hearted, youthful band, cast off the gloom of envy and of worldly pursuit, reassociating myself with the joyous scenes of my boyhood. Nay, more, I hold thee in higher veneration than ever did antiquarian worship the relics of virtu.
ENLARGE TO FULL SIZE
Destruction light upon the impious hand that would abridge thy ancient charter;—be all thy children, father Etona, doubly-armed to defend thy ancient honors;—let no modern Goth presume to violate thy sacred rights; but to the end of time may future generations retain the spirit of thy present race; and often as the happy period comes, new pleasures wait upon the Eton Montem.{1}
1 The ancient custom, celebrated at Eton every third year,
on Whit-Tuesday, and which bears the title of The Montem,
appears to have defied antiquarian research, as far as
relates to its original institution. It consiste of a
procession to a small tumulus on the southern side of the
Bath road, which has given the name of Salt-Hill to the
spot, now better known by the splendid inns that are
established there. The chief object of this celebration,
however, is to collect money for salt, according to the
language of the day, from all persons who assemble to see
the show, nor does it fail to be exacted from travellers on
the road, and even at the private residences within a
certain, but no inconsiderable, range of the spot. The
scholars appointed to collect the money are called salt- bearers; they are arrayed in fancy dresses, and are attended by others called scouts, of a similar, but less showy appearance. Tickets are given to such persons as have paid their contributions, to secure them from any further demand. This ceremony is always very numerously attended by Etonians, and has frequently been honored with the presence of his late Majesty, and the different branches of the Royal Family. The sum collected on the occasion has sometimes exceeded 800L., and is given to the senior scholar, who is called Captain of the School. This procession appears to be coeval with the foundation; and it is the opinion of Mr. Lysons, that it was a ceremonial of the Bairn, or Boy- Bishop. He states, that it originally took place on the 6th of December, the festival of St. Nicholas, the patron of children; being the day on which it was customary at Salisbury, and in other places where the ceremony was observed, to elect the Boy-Bishop from among the children belonging to the cathedral. This mock dignity lasted till Innocents' day; and, during the intermediate time, the boy performed various episcopal functions. If it happened that he died before the allotted period of this extraordinary mummery had expired, he was buried with all the ceremonials which were used at the funerals of prelates. In the voluminous collections relating to antiquities, bequeathed by Mr. Cole, who was himself of Eton and King's colleges, to the British Museum, is a note which
mentions that the ceremony of the Bairn or Boy-Bishop was to
be observed by charter, and that Geoffry Blythe, Bishop of
Lichfield, who died in 1530, bequeathed several ornaments
to those colleges, for the dress of the bairn-bishop. But on
what authority this industrious antiquary gives the
information, which, if correct, would put an end to all
doubt on the subject, does not appear. But, after all, why
may not this custom be supposed to have originated in a
procession to perform an annual mass at the altar of some
saint, to whom a small chapel might have been dedicated on
the mount called Salt-Hill; a ceremony very common in
Catholic countries, as such an altar is a frequent appendage
to their towns and populous villages? As for the selling of
salt, it may be considered as a natural accompaniment, when
its emblematical character, as to its use in the ceremonies
of the Roman Church, is contemplated. Till the time of
Doctor Barnard, the procession of the Montem was every two
years, and on the first or second Tuesday in February. It
consisted of something of a military array. The boys in the
remove, fourth, and inferior forms, marched in a long file
of two and two, with white poles in their hands, while the
sixth and fifth form boys walked on their flanks as
officers, and habited in all the variety of dress, each of
them having a boy of the inferior forms, smartly equipped,
attending on him as a footman. The second boy in the school
led the procession in a military dress, with a truncheon in
his hand, and bore for the day the title of Marshal: then
followed the Captain, supported by his Chaplain, the head
scholar of the fifth form, dressed in a suit of black, with
a large bushy wig, and a broad beaver decorated with a
twisted silk hatband and rose, the fashionable distinction
of the dignified clergy of that day. It was his office to
read certain Latin prayers on the mount at Salt-Hill The
third boy of the school brought up the rear as Lieutenant.
One of the higher classes, whose qualification was his
activity, was chosen Ensign, and carried the colours, which
were emblazoned with the college arms, and the motto, Pro mort el monte. This flag, before the procession left the college, he flourished in the school-yard with all the dexterity displayed at Astley's and places of similar exhibition. The same ceremony was repeated after prayers, on the mount. The regiment dined in the inns at Salt-Hill, and then returned to the college; and its dismission in the school-yard was announced by the universal drawing of all the swords. Those who bore the title of commissioned officers were exclusively on the foundation, and carried spontoons; the rest were considered as Serjeants and corporals, and a most curious assemblage of figures they exhibited. The two principal salt-bearers consisted of an oppidan and a colleger: the former was generally some nobleman, whose figure and personal connexions might advance the interests of the collections. They were dressed like running footmen, and carried, each of them, a silk bag to receive the contributions, in which was a small quantity of salt. During Doctor Barnard's mastership, the ceremony was made triennial, the time changed from February to Whit- Tuesday, and several of its absurdities retrenched. An ancient and savage custom of hunting a ram by the foundation scholars, on Saturday in the election week, was abolished in the earlier part of the last century. The curious twisted clubs with which these collegiate hunters were armed on the occasion are still to be seen in antiquarian collections.
What coronation, tournament, or courtly pageant, can outshine thy splendid innocence and delightful gaiety? what regal banquet yields half the pure enjoyment the sons of old Etona experience, when, after months of busy preparation, the happy morn arrives ushered in with the inspiring notes of "Auld lang syne" from the well-chosen band in the college breakfast-room? Then, too, the crowds of admiring spectators, the angel host of captivating beauties with their starry orbs of light, and luxuriant tresses, curling in playful elegance around a face beaming with divinity, or falling in admired negligence over bosoms of alabastrine whiteness and unspotted purity within! Grey-bearded wisdom and the peerless great, the stars of honor in the field and state, the pulpit and the bar, send forth their brightest ornaments to grace Etona's holiday. Oxford and Cambridge, too, lend their classic aid, and many a grateful son of Alma Mater returns to acknowledge his obligations to his early tutors and swell the number of the mirthful host. Here may be seen, concentrated in the quadrangle, the costume of every nation, in all the gay variety that fancy can devise: the Persian spangled robe, and the embroidered Greek vest; the graceful Spanish, and the picturesque Italian, the Roman toga and the tunic, and the rich old English suit. Pages in red frocks, and marshals in their satin doublets; white wands and splendid turbans, plumes, and velvet hats, all hastening with a ready zeal to obey the call of the muster-roll. The captain with his retinue retires to pay his court to the provost; while, in the doctor's study, may be seen, gathered around the dignitary, a few of those great names who honor Eton and owe their honor to her classic tutors. Twelve o'clock strikes, and the procession is now marshalled in the quadrangle in sight of the privileged circle, princes, dukes, peers, and doctors with their ladies. Here does the ensign first display his skill in public, and the Montem banner is flourished in horizontal revolutions about the head and waist with every grace of elegance and ease which the result of three months' practice and no little strength can accomplish.
Twelve o'clock strikes, and the procession moves forward to the playing fields on its route to Salt-Hill. Now look the venerable spires and antique towers of Eton like to some chieftain's baronial castle in the feudal times, and the proud captain represents the hero marching forth at the head of his parti-coloured vassals!
The gallant display of rank and fashion and beauty follow in their splendid equipages by slow progressive movement, like the delightful lingering, inch by inch approach to St. James's palace on a full court-day. The place itself is calculated to impress the mind with sentiments of veneration and of heart-moving reminiscences; seated in the bosom of one of the richest landscapes in the kingdom, where on the height majestic Windsor lifts its royal brow; calmly magnificent, over-looking, from his round tower, the surrounding country, and waving his kingly banner in the air: 'tis the high court of English chivalry, the birth-place, the residence, and the mausoleum of her kings, and "i' the olden time," the prison of her captured monarchs. "At once, the sovereign's and the muses' seat," rich beyond almost any other district in palaces, and fanes, and villas, in all the "pomp of patriarchal forests," and gently-swelling hills, and noble streams, and waving harvests; there Denham wrote, and Pope breathed the soft note of pastoral inspiration; and there too the immortal bard of Avon chose the scene in which to wind the snares of love around his fat-encumbered knight. Who can visit the spot without thinking of Datchet mead and the buck-basket of sweet Anne Page and Master Slender, and mine host of the Garter, and all the rest of that merry, intriguing crew? And now having reached the foot of the mount and old druidical barrow, the flag is again waved amid the cheers of the surrounding thousands who line its sides, and in their carriages environ its ancient base.{2} Now the salt-bearers and the pages bank their collections in one common stock, and the juvenile band partake of the captain's banquet, and drink success to his future prospects in Botham's port. Then, too, old Herbertus Stockhore—he must not be forgotten; I have already introduced him to your notice in p. 59, and my friend Bob Transit has illustrated the sketch with his portrait; yet here he demands notice in his official character, and perhaps I cannot do better than quote the humorous account given of him by the elegant pen of an old Etonian {3}
"Who is that buffoon that travesties the travesty? Who is that old cripple alighted from his donkey-cart, who dispenses doggrel and grimaces in all the glory of plush and printed calico?"
"That, my most noble cynic, is a prodigious personage. Shall birth-days and coronations be recorded in immortal odes, and Montem not have its minstrel 1 He, sir, is Herbertus Stockhore; who first called upon his muse in the good old days of Paul Whitehead—
