RECOLLECTIONS OF AN OLD ETONIAN.
The Lords Littleton—father and son, formed two opposite characters in their times. The former had a distinguished turn for pastoral poetry, and wrote some things at Eton with all the enthusiasm of early years, and yet with all the judgment of advanced life. The latter showed there, in some traits of disposition, what was to be expected from him; but he too loved the Muses, and cultivated them.
He there too displayed the strange contraries of being an ardent admirer of the virtues of classic times, while he was cheating at chuck and all-fours; and though he affected every species of irreligion, was, in fact, afraid of his own shadow.
The whole North Family have, in succession, adorned this school with their talents—which in the different branches were various, but all of mark and vivacity. To the younger part, Dampier was the tutor; who, having a little disagreement with Frank North on the hundred steps coming down from the terrace, at Windsor, they adjusted it, by Frank North's rolling his tutor very quickly down the whole of them. The tutor has since risen to some eminence in the church.
Lord Cholmondeley was early in life a boy of great parts, and they have continued so ever since, though not lively ones. Earl of Buckingham was a plain good scholar, but would have been better at any other school, for he was no poet, and verse is here one of the first requisites; besides, he had an impediment in his speech, which, in the hurry of repeating a lesson before a number of boys, was always increased. It was inculcated to him by his dame—that he must look upon himself as the reverse of a woman in every thing, and not hold—that whoever "deliberates is lost."
Lord Harrington was a boy of much natural spirit. In the great rebellion, under Forster, when all the boys threw their books into the Thames, and marched to Salt Hill, he was amongst the foremost. At that place each took an oath, or rather swore, he would be d———d if ever he returned to school again.
When, therefore, he came to London to the old Lord Harrington's, and sent up his name, his father would only speak to him at the door, insisting, at the same time, on his immediate return. "Sir," said the son, "consider I shall be d—d if I do!" "And I" answered the father, "will be d—d if you don't!"
"Yes, my lord," replied the son, "but you will be d—d together I do or no!"
The Storers. Anthony and Tom, for West Indians, were better scholars than usually fell to the share of those children of the sun, who were, in general, too gay to be great. The name of the elder stands to this day at the head of many good exercises; from which succeeding genius has stolen, and been praised for it.
Tom had an odd capability of running round a room on the edge of the wainscot, a strange power of holding by the foot: an art which, in lower life, might have been serviceable to him in the showing it. And Anthony, likewise, amongst better and more brilliant qualifications, had the reputation of being amongst the best dancers of the age. In a political line, perhaps, he did not dance attendance to much purpose.
Harry Conway, brother to the present Marquis of Hertford, though younger in point of learning, was older than his brother, Lord Beauchamp; but he was not so forward as to show this preeminence: a somewhat of modesty, a consciousness of being younger, always kept him back from displaying it. In fact, they were perfectly unlike two Irish boys—the Wades, who followed them, and who, because the younger was taller, used to fight about which was the eldest.
Pepys. A name well known for Barnard's commendation of it, and for his exercises in the Musæ Etonenses. He was amongst the best poets that Eton ever produced.
Kirkshaw, son to the late doctor, of Leeds, and since fellow of Trinity College. When his father would have taken him away, he made a singular request that he might stay a year longer, not wishing to be made a man so early.
Many satiric Latin poems bear his name at Eton, and he continued that turn afterwards at Cambridge. He was remarkable for a very large head; but it should likewise be added, there was a good deal in it.
On this head, his father used to hold forth in the country. He was, without a figure, the head of the school, and was afterwards in the caput at the university.
Wyndham, under Barnard, distinguished himself very early as a scholar, and for a logical acuteness, which does not often fall to the share of a boy. He was distinguished too both by land and by water; for while he was amongst the most informed of his time, in school hours, in the playing fields, on the water, with the celebrated boatman, my guinea piper at cricket, or in rowing, he was always the foremost. He used to boast, that he should in time be as good a boxer as his father was, though he used to add, that never could be exactly known, as he could not decently have a set-to with him.
Fawkener, the major, was captain of the school; and in those days was famed for the "suaviter in modo," and for a turn for gallantry with the Windsor milliners, which he pursued up the hundred steps, and over the terrace there. As this turn frequently made him overrun the hours of absence, on his return he was found out, and flogged the next morning; but this abated not his zeal in the cause of gallantry, as he held it to be, like Ovid, whom he was always reading, suffering in a fair cause.
Fawkener, Everard, minor, with the same turn for pleasure as his brother, but more open and ingenuous in his manner, more unreserved in his behaviour, then manifested, what he has since been, the bon vivant of every society, and was then as since, the admired companion in every party.
Prideaux was remarkable for being the gravest boy of his time, and for having the longest chin. Had he followed the ancient "Sapientem pascere Barbam," there would in fact have been no end of it. With this turn, however, his time was not quite thrown away, nor his gravity. In conjunction with Dampier, Langley, and Serjeant, who were styled the learned Cons, he composed a very long English poem, in the same metre as the Bath Guide, and of which it was then held a favour to get a copy. He had so much of advanced life about him, that the masters always looked upon him as a man; and this serious manner followed him through his pastimes. He was fond of billiards; but he was so long in making his stroke, that no boy could bear to play with him: when the game, therefore, went against him, like Fabius-Cunctando restituit rem; and they gave it up rather than beat him.
Hulse. Amongst the best tennis-players that Eton ever sent up to Windsor, where he always was. As a poet he distinguished himself greatly, by winning one of the medals given by Sir John Dalrymple. His exercise on this occasion was the subject of much praise to Doctor Forster, then master, and of much envy to his contemporaries in the sixth form, who said it was given to him because he was head boy.
These were his arts; besides which he had as many tricks as any boy ever had. He had nothing when præpositer, and of course ruling under boys, of dignity about him, or of what might enforce his authority. When he ought to have been angry, some monkey trick always came across him, and he would make a serious complaint against a little boy, in a hop, step, and a jump.
Montague. Having a great predecessor before him under the appellation of "Mad Montague" had always a consolatory comparison in this way in his favor. In truth, at times he wanted it, for he was what has been termed a genius: but he was likewise so in talent. He was an admirable poet, and had a neatness of expression seldom discoverable at such early years. In proof, may be brought a line from a Latin poem on Cricket:
"Clavigeri fallit verbera—virga cadit."
And another on scraping a man down at the Robin Hood:
"Radit arenosam pes inimicus humum."
The scratching of the foot on the sandy floor is admirable.
During a vacation, Lord Sandwich took him to Holland; and he sported on his return a Dutch-built coat for many weeks. The boys used to call him Mynheer Montague; but his common habit of oddity soon got the better of his coat.
He rose to be a young man of great promise, as to abilities; and died too immaturely for his fame.
Tickell, the elder. Manu magis quam capite should have been his motto. By natural instinct he loved fighting, and knew not what fear was. He went amongst his school-fellows by the name of Hannibal, and Old Tough. A brother school-fellow of his, no less a man than the Marquis of Buckingham, met, and recognised him again in Ireland, and with the most marked solicitude of friendship, did every thing but assist him, in obtaining a troop of dragoons, which he had much at heart.
Tickell, minor, should then have had the eulogy of how much elder art thou than thy years! In those early days his exercises, read publicly in school, gave the anticipation of what time and advancing years have brought forth. He was an admirable scholar, and a poet from nature; forcible, neat, and discriminating. The fame of his grandsire, the Tickell of Addison, was not hurt by the descent to him.
His sister, who was the beauty of Windsor castle, and the admiration of all, early excited a passion in a boy then at school, who afterwards married her. Of this sister he was very fond; but he was not less so of another female at Windsor, a regard since terminated in a better way with his present wife.
His pamphlet of Anticipation, it is said, placed him where he since was, under the auspices of Lord North; but his abilities were of better quality, and deserved a better situation for their employment.
Lord Plymouth, then Lord Windsor, had to boast some distinctions, which kept him aloof from the boys of his time. He was of that inordinate size that, like Falstaff, four square yards on even ground were so many miles to him; and the struggles which he underwent to raise himself when down might have been matter of instruction to a minority member. In the entrance to his Dame's gate much circumspection was necessary; for, like some good men out of power, he found it difficult to get in.
When in school, or otherwise, he was not undeserving of praise, either as to temper or scholarship; and whether out of the excellence of his Christianity, or that of good humour, he was not very adverse to good living; and he continued so ever after.
Lord Leicester had the reputation of good scholarship, and not undeservedly. In regard to poetry, however, he was sometimes apt to break the eighth commandment, and prove lie read more the Musee Etonenses than his prayer-book. Inheriting it from Lord Townshend, the father of caricaturists, he there pursued, with nearly equal ability, that turn for satiric drawing. The master, the tutors, slender Prior, and fat Roberts,—all felt in rotation the effects of his pencil.
There too, as well as since, he had a most venerable affection for heraldry, and the same love of collecting together old titles, and obsolete mottos. Once in the military, he had, it may be said, a turn for arms. In a zeal of this kind he once got over the natural mildness of his temper, and was heard to exclaim—"There are two griffins in my family that have been missing these three centuries, and by G-, I'll have iliem back again!"-This passion was afterwards improved into so perfect a knowledge, that in the creation of peers he was applied to, that every due ceremonial might be observed; and he never failed in his recollection on these antiquated subjects.
Tom Plummer gave then a specimen of that quickness and vivacity of parts for which he was afterwards famed. But not as a scholar, not as a poet, was he quick alone; he was quick too in the wrong ends of things, as well as the right, with a plausible account to follow it.
In fact, he was born for the law; clear, discriminating, judicious, alive, and with a noble impartiality to all sides of questions, and which none could defend better. This goes, however, only to the powers of his head; in those of the heart no one, and in the best and tenderest qualities of it, ever stood better. He was liked universally, and should be so; for no man was ever more meritorious for being good, as he who had all the abilities which sometimes make a man otherwise.
In the progress of life mind changes often, and body almost always. Both these rules, however, he lived to contradict; for his talents and his qualities retained their virtue; and when a boy he was as tall as when a man, and apparently the same.
Capel Loft. In the language of Eton the word gig comprehended all that was ridiculous, all that was to be laughed at, and plagued to death; and of all gigs that was, or ever will be, this gentleman, while a boy, was the greatest.
He was like nothing, "in the heavens above, or the waters under the earth;" and therefore he was surrounded by a mob of boys whenever he appeared. These days of popularity were not pleasant. Luckily, however, for himself, he found some refuge from persecution in his scholarship. This scholarship was much above the rate, and out of the manner of common boys.
As a poet, he possessed fluency and facility, but not the strongest imagination. As a classic, he was admirable; and his prose themes upon different subjects displayed an acquaintance with the Latin idiom and phraseology seldom acquired even by scholastic life, and the practice of later years. Beyond this, he read much of everything that appeared, knew every thing, and was acquainted with every better publication of the times.
Even then he studied law, politics, divinity; and could have written well upon those subjects.
These talents have served him since more effectually than they did then; more as man than boy:
For at school he was a kind of Gray Beard: he neither ran, played, jumped, swam, or fought, as other boys do. The descriptions of puerile years, so beautifully given by Gray, in his ode:
"Who, foremost, now delight to cleave,
With pliant arm, thy glassy wave?
The captive linnet which enthrall?
What idle progeny succeed,
To chase the rolling circle's speed,
Or urge the flying ball?"
All these would have been, and were, as non-descriptive of him as they would have been of the lord chancellor of England, with a dark brow and commanding mien, determining a cause of the first interest to this country. Added to this, in personal appearance he was most unfavored; and exemplified the Irish definition of an open countenance—a mouth from ear to ear.
Lord Hinchinbroke, from the earliest period of infancy, had all the marks of the Montagu family. He had a good head, and a red head, and a Roman nose, and a turn to the ars amatoria of Ovid, and all the writers who may have written on love. As it was in the beginning—may be said now.
Though in point of scholarship he was not in the very first line, the descendant of Lord Sandwich could not but have ability, and he had it; but this was so mixed with the wanderings of the heart, the vivacity of youthful imagination, and a turn to pleasure, that a steady pursuit of any one object of a literary turn could not be expected.
But it was his praise that he went far in a short time; sometimes too far; for Barnard had to exercise himself, and his red right arm, as the vengeful poet expresses it, very frequently on the latter end of his lordship's excursions.
In one of these excursions to Windsor, he had the good or ill fortune to engage in a little amorous amement with a young lady, the consequence of which was an application to Lucina for assistance. Of this doctor Barnard was informed, and though the remedy did not seem tending towards a cure, he was brought up immediately to be flogged.
He bore this better than his master, who cried out, after some few lashes—"Psha! what signifies my flogging him for being like his father? What's bred in the bone will never get out of the flesh."
Gibbs. Some men are overtaken by the law, and some few overtake it themselves. In this small, but happy number, may be placed the name in question; and a name of better promise, whether of man or boy, can scarcely be found any where.
At school he was on the foundation; and though amongst the Collegers, where the views of future life, and hope of better days, arising from their own industry, make learning a necessity, yet to that he added the better qualities of genius and talent.
As a classical scholar, he was admirable in both languages. As a poet, he was natural, ready, and yet distinguished. Amongst the best exercises of the time, his were to be reckoned, and are yet remembered with praise. For the medals given by Sir John Dalrymple for the best Latin poem, he was a candidate; but though his production was publicly read by doctor Forster, and well spoken of, he was obliged to give way to the superiority of another on that occasion.
Describing the winding of the Thames through its banks, it had this beautiful line:
"Rodit arundineas facili sinuamine ripas———"
Perfect as to the picture, and beautiful as to the flowing of the poetry.
He had the good fortune and the good temper to be liked by every body of his own age; and he was not enough found out of bounds, or trespassing against "sacred order," to be disliked by those of greater age who were set over him.
After passing through all the different forms at Eton, he was removed to Cambridge; where he distinguished himself not less than at school in trials for different literary honors.
There he became assistant tutor to Sir Peter Burrell, who then listened to his instructions, and has not since forgotten them.
As a tutor, he was somewhat young; but the suavity of his manners took away the comparison of equality; and his real knowledge rendered him capable of instructing those who might be even older than himself.
