Similar Story Is Told of an Oxford Wag
In Addison’s Anecdotes, stating, that about the beginning of the eighteenth century, when it was more the fashion to drink ale at Oxford than at present, a humorous fellow of merry memory established an ale-house near the pound, and wrote over his door, “Ale sold by the pound!” As his ale was as good as his jokes, the Oxonians resorted to his house in great numbers, and sometimes stayed there beyond the college hours. This was made a matter of complaint to the Vice-Chancellor, who was desired to take away his license by one of the Proctors. Boniface was summoned to attend accordingly, and when he came into the Vice-Chancellor’s presence, he began hawking and spitting about the room. This the Vice-Chancellor observed, and asked what he meant by it? “Please your worship,” said he, “I came here on purpose to clear myself.” The Vice-Chancellor imagining that he actually weighed his ale, said, “They tell me you sell ale by the pound; is that true?” “No, an’ please your worship.” “How do you, then?” “Very well, I thank you, sir,” said the wag, “how do you do?” The Vice-Chancellor laughed and said, “Get away for a rogue; I’ll say no more to you.” The fellow went out, but in crossing the quod met the proctor who had laid the information against him. “Sir,” said he, addressing the Proctor, “the Vice-Chancellor wants to speak with you,” and they went to the Vice-Chancellor’s together. “Here he is, sir,” said Boniface, as they entered the presence. “Who?” inquired the Vice. “Why, sir,” he rejoined, “you sent me for a rogue, and I have brought you the greatest that I know of.” The result was, says the author of Terræ-Filius (who gives a somewhat different version of the anecdote,) that Boniface paid dear for his jokes: being not only deprived of his license, but committed to prison.
CAMBRIDGE FROLICS
SWEARING LIKE A COMMON SOLDIER?’
I recollect once being invited, with another Cantab, to bitch (as they say) with a scholar of Bene’t Coll. and arrived there at the hour named to find the door sported and our host out. We resolved, however, not to be floored by a quiz, and having gained admission to his rooms per the window, we put a bold face upon matters, went straight to the buttery, and ordered “coffee and muffins for two,” in his name. They came of course; and having feasted to our heart’s content, we finished our revenge by hunting up all the tallow we could lay hands on, which we cut up to increase the number, and therewith illuminated his rooms and beat a retreat as quick as possible. The College was soon in an uproar to learn the cause for such a display, and we had the pleasure of witnessing our wag’s chagrin thereat from a nook in the court. This anecdote reminds me of one told of himself and the late learned physician, Dr. Battie, by Dr. Morell. They were contemporary at Eton, and afterwards went to King’s College, Cambridge, together. Dr. Battie’s mother was his jackall wherever he went, and, says Dr. Morell, she kindly recommended me and other scholars to a chandler at 4s. 6d. per dozen. But the candles proved dear even at that rate, and we resolved to vent our disappointment upon her son. We, accordingly, got access to Battie’s room, locked him out, and all the candles we could find in his box we lighted and stuck up round the room! and, whilst I thrummed on the spinnet, the rest danced round me in their shirts. Upon Battie’s coming, and finding what we were at, he “fell to storming and swearing,” says the Doctor, “till the old Vice-Provost, Dr. Willymott, called out from above, ‘Who is ‘It is I,’ quoth Battle. ‘Visit me,’ quoth the Vice-Provost. Which, indeed, we were all obliged to do the next morning, with a distich, according to custom. Mine naturally turned upon, ‘So fiddled Orpheus, and so danced the brutes;’ which having explained to the Vice-Provost, he punished me and Sleech with a few lines from the Epsilon of Homer, and Battie with the whole third book of Milton, to get, as we say, by heart.” Another College scene, in which Battie played a part, when a scholar at King’s, is the following:—
CASE OF BLACK RASH,
Given on the authority of his old college chum, Ralph Thicknesse, who, like himself, became a Fellow. There was then at King’s College, says Ralph, a very good-tempered six-feet-high Parson, of the name of Harry Lofft, who was one of the College chanters, and the constant butt of all both at commons and in the parlour. Harry, says Ralph, dreaded so much the sight of a gun or a pair of pistols, that such of his friends as did not desire too much of his company kept fire-arms to keep him at arm’s length. Ralph was encouraged, by some of the Fellows, he says (juniors of course,) to make a serious joke out of Harry’s foible, and one day discharged a gun, loaded with powder, at our six-feet-high Parson, as he was striding his way to prayers. The powder was coarse and damp and did not all burn, so that a portion of it lodged in Harry’s face. The fright and a little inflammation put the poor chanter to bed, says Ralph. But he was not the only frightened party, for we were all much alarmed lest the report should reach the Vice-Chancellor’s ears, and the good-tempered Hal was prevailed with to be only ill. Battie and another, who were not of the shooting party (the only two fellow-students in physic,) were called to Hal’s assistance. They were not told the real state of the case, and finding his pulse high, his spirits low, and his face inflamed and sprinkled with red spots, after a serious consultation they prescribed. On retiring from the sick man’s room, they were forthwith examined on the state of the case by the impatient plotters of the wicked deed, to whose amusement both the disciples of Galen pronounced Hal’s case to be the black rash! This, adds Ralph, was a never-to-be-forgotten roast for Battie and Banks in Cambridge; and if we may add to this, that Battie, in after life, sent his wife to Bath for a dropsy, where she was shortly tapped of a fine boy, it may give us a little insight into the practice of physic, and induce us to say with the poet—
“Better to search in fields for wealth unbought,
Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.”
The same Ralph relates a humorous anecdote of