1 A spread. A wine party of from thirty to one hundred and
twenty persons. The party who gives the spread generally
invites all the under-graduates he is acquainted with; a
dessert is ordered either from Jubber's, or Sadler's, for
the number invited, for which he is charged at per head.
reinforcement of black men, or heavy artillery from the college magazine, across the quadrangle, for the use of the dignitaries' table; when I, a poor solitary freshman, advanced with sentimental awe and fearful stride beneath the arched entrance of Brazen-nose. Where Eglantine's rooms were situated I had no means of knowing, his card supplying only the name of his college; to make some inquiry would be necessary, but of whom, not a creature but what appeared much too busily employed, as they ran to and fro laden with wine and viands, to answer the interrogatories of a stranger. I was on the point of retreating to obtain the requisite information from the waiter at the Mitre, when old Mark Supple made his appearance, with "Your servant, sir: I have been in search of you at your inn, by command of Mr. Eglantine, take notice—who with a large party of friends are waiting your company to a spread." "A large party, Mark?" said I, suspecting there was some secret drama in rehearsal, in which I was to play a principal part. "A very large party, sir, and a very extraordinary one too, take notice—such a collection as I never saw before within the walls of a college—living curiosities, take notice—all the comicals of Oxford brought together,{2} and this 2 This adventure, strange as it may appear, actually occurred a short time since, when Mr. J*****n of Brazen-nose invited the characters here named to an entertainment in the College. Sir Richard Steele, when on a visit to Edinburgh, indulged in a similar freak: he made a splendid feast, and whilst the servants were wondering for what great personages it was intended, he sent them into the streets, to collect all the eccentrics, beggars, and poor people, that chance might throw in their way, and invite them to his house. A pretty large party being mustered, they were well plied with whiskey-punch and wine; when, forgetting their cares, and free from all restraint, they gave loose to every peculiarity of their respective characters. When the entertainment was over, Sir Richard declared, that besides the pleasure of filling so many hungry bellies, and enjoying an hour of rich amusement, he had gleaned from them humour enough to form a good comedy, or at least a farce.
THE SPREAD, OR WINE PARTY AT BRAZEN-NOSE 223
is what Mr. Eglantine calls his museum of character, but which I should call a regiment of caricatures, take notice—but I heard him say, that he had invited them on purpose to surprise you; that he knew you was fond of eccentricity, and that he thought he had prepared a great treat. I only wish he may get rid of them as easily as he brought them there, for if the bull-dogs should gain scent of them there would be a pretty row, take notice." Mark's information, instead of producing the alarm he evidently anticipated, had completely dispelled all previous fears, and operated like the prologue to a rich comedy, from which I expected to derive considerable merriment: following, therefore, my conductor up one flight of stairs on the opposite side of the space from which I had entered, I found myself at the closed oak of my friend. "Mr. Eglantine is giving them a chaunt" said Mark, who had applied his ear to the key-hole of the door: "we must wait till the song is over, or you will be fined in a double bumper of bishop, for interrupting the stave, take notice." Curiosity prompted me to follow Mark's example, when I overheard Horace chanting part of an old satirical ballad on John Wilkes, to the tune of the Dragon of Wantley; commencing with—
And ballads I have heard rehearsed By harmonists itinerant, Who modern worthies celebrate, Yet scarcely make a dinner on't. Some of whom sprang from noble race, And some were in a pig-sty born, Dependent upon royal grace Or triple tree of Tyburn.
CHORUS. John Wilkes he was for Middlesex, They chose him knight of the shire: He made a fool of alderman Bull, And call'd parson Home a liar.
The moment silence was obtained, old Mark gave three distinct knocks at the door, when Horace himself appeared, and we were immediately admitted to the temple of the Muses; where, seated round a long table, appeared a variety of characters that would have rivalled (from description) the Beggars' Club in St. Giles's—the Covent-Garden Finish—or the once celebrated Peep o' day boys in Fleet-lane. At the upper end of the table were Tom Echo and Bob Transit, the first smoking his cigar, the second sketching the portraits of the motley group around him on the back of his address cards; at the lower end of the room, on each side of the chair from which Eglantine had just risen to welcome me, sat little Dick Gradus, looking as knowing as an Old Bailey counsel dissecting a burglary case, and the honourable Lillyman Lionise, the Eton exquisite, looking as delicate and frightened as if his whole system of ethics was likely to be revolutionized by this night's entertainment. To such a society a formal introduction was of course deemed essential; and this favour Horace undertook by recommending me to the particular notice of the crackademonians (as he was pleased to designate the elegant assemblage by whom we were then surrounded), in the following oration: "Most noble cracks, and worthy cousin trumps—permit me to introduce a brother of the togati, fresh as a new-blown rose, and innocent as the lilies of St. Clement's. Be unto him, as ye have been to all gownsmen from the beginning, ever ready to promote his wishes, whether for spree or sport, in term or out of term—against the Inquisition and their bull-dogs—the town raff and the bargees—well blunted or stiver cramped—against dun or don—nob or big wig—so may you never want a bumper of bishop: and thus do I commend him to your merry keeping." "Full charges, boys," said Echo, "fill up their glasses, Count Dennett{3}; 3 Count Dennett, hair-dresser at Corpus and Oriel Colleges, a very eccentric man, who has saved considerable property; celebrated for making bishops' wigs, playing at cribbage, and psalm-singing.
Here's Brother Blackmantle of Brazen-nose." "A speech, a speech!" vociferated all the party. "Yes, worthy brother cracks," replied I, "you shall have a speech, the very acme of oratory; a brief speech, composed by no less a personage than the great Lexicographer himself, and always used by him on such occasions at the club in Ivy-lane. Here's all your healths, and Esto perpétua." "Bravo!" said Eglantine;" the boy improves. Now a toast, a university lass—come, boys, The Doctor's Daughter; and then a song from Crotchet C—ss."{4}
BURTON ALE.
AN ANCIENT OXFORD DITTY.
Of all the belles who Christ Church bless,
None's like the doctor's daughter{5};
Who hates affected squeamishness
Almost as much as water.
Unlike your modern dames, afraid
Of Bacchus's caresses;
She far exceeds the stoutest maid
Of excellent queen Bess's.
Hers were the days, says she, good lack,
The days to drink and munch in;
When butts of Burton, tuns of sack,
Wash'd down an ox for luncheon.
Confound your nimpy-pimpy lass,
Who faints and fumes at liquor;
Give me the girl that takes her glass
Like Moses and the vicar.
4 Mr. C—ss, otherwise Crotchet C—ss, bachelor of music,
and organist of Christ Church College, St. John's College,
and St. Mary's Church. An excellent musician, and a jolly
companion: he published, some time since, a volume of
chants.
5 A once celebrated university toast, with whose
eccentricities we could fill a volume; but having received
an intimation that it would be unpleasant to the lady's
feelings, we gallantly forbear.
True emblem of immortal ale,
So famed in British lingo;
Stout, beady, and a little stale—
Long live the Burton stingo!