The Great Gaudy of the All-Souls’ Mallard
This feast is annually celebrated the 14th of January, by the Society of All-Souls, in piam memoriam of their founder, the famous Henry Chichele, Archbishop of Canterbury. It is a custom at All-Souls’ College (says Pointer, in his Oxoniensis Academia,) kept up on “their mallard-night every year, in remembrance of a huge mallard or drake, found (as tradition goes) imprisoned in a gutter or drain under ground, and grown to a vast bigness, at the digging for the foundation of the college.” This mallard had grown to a huge size, and was, it appears, of a great age; and to account for the longevity, he cites the Ornithology of Willughby, who observes, “that he was assured by a friend of his, a person of very good credit, that his father kept a goose known to be sixty years of age, and as yet sound and lusty, and like enough to have lived many years longer, had he not been forced to kill her, for her mischievousness, worrying and destroying the young geese and goslings.” “And my Lord Bacon,” he adds, “in his Natural History, says, the goose may pass among the long-livers, though his food be commonly grass and such kind of nourishment, especially the wild goose; wherefore this proverb grew among the Germans, Magis senex quam Anser nivalis—Older than a wild-goose.” He might also have instanced the English proverb, “As tough as a Michaelmas goose.” “If a goose be such a long-lived bird,” observes Mr. P., “why not a duck or a drake, since I reckon they may be both ranked in the same class, though of a different species, as to their size, as a rat and a mouse? And if so, this may help to give credit to our All-Souls’ mallard. However, this is certain, this mallard is the accidental occasion of a great gaudy once a-year, and great mirth, though the commemoration of their founder is the chief occasion; for on this occasion is always sung,” as extant in the Oxford Sausage, the following “merry old song:”—
THE ALL-SOULS’ MALLARD
Griffin, bustard, turkey, capon,
Let our hungry mortals gape on,
And on their bones their stomach fall hard,
But All-Souls’ men have their MALLARD.
Oh! by the blood of King Edward,
Oh! by the blood of King Edward,
It was a swapping, swapping, MALLARD.
The Romans once admired a gander
More than they did their chief commander,
Because he saved, if some don’t fool us,
The place that’s called from the Head of Tolus.
Oh! by the blood, &c.
The poets feign Jove turned a swan,
But let them prove it if they can;
As for our proof, ’tis not at all hard,
For it was a swapping, swapping MALLARD.
Oh! for the blood, &c.
Swapping he was from bill to eye,
Swapping he was from wing to thigh;
Swapping—his age and corporation
Out-swapped all the winged creation.
Oh! for the blood, &c.
Therefore let us sing and dance a galliard,
To the remembrance of the MALLARD;
And as the MALLARD dives in a pool,
Let us dabble, dive, and duck in a bowl.
Oh! by the blood of King Edward,
Oh! by the blood of King Edward,
It was a swapping, swapping MALLARD.
But whoever would possess themselves of the true history of the swapping mallard of All-Souls, must read the “Complete Vindication of the Mallard of All-Souls,” published in 1751, by Dr. Buckler, sub-warden, “a most incontrovertible proof of his wit,” who for that and other, his effusions, was usually styled, by way of eminence, says Chalmers, in his History of Oxford, “The Buckler of the Mallardians.” His Vindication, it is justly observed, is “one of the finest pieces of irony in our language.” Of course, he is highly indignant at the “injurious suggestions of Mr. Pointer (contained in the foregoing quotations,) who insinuates, that the huge mallard was no better than a goose-a-gander, “magis senex,” &c.; and after citing the very words of Mr. P., he breaks out, “Thus the mallard of All-Souls, whose REMEMBRANCE has, for these three centuries, been held in the highest veneration, is, by this forged hypothesis, degraded into a GOOSE, or, at least, ranked in the same class with that ridiculous animal, and the whole story on which the rites and ceremonies of the mallard depends, is represented as merely traditional; more than a hint is given of the mischievousness of the bird, whatever he be; and all is founded on a pretended longevity, in support of which fiction the great names of Lord Bacon and Mr. Willughby are called in, to make the vilifying insinuation pass the more plausibly upon the world.” “We live in an age (he adds,) when the most serious subjects are treated with an air of ridicule; I shall therefore set this important affair in its true light, and produce authorities “sufficient to convince the most obstinate incredulity; and first, I shall beg leave to transcribe a passage from Thomas Walsingham, (see Nicholson’s Historical Library,) a monk of St. Alban’s, and Regius Professor of History in that monastery, about the year 1440. This writer is well known among the historians for his Historia Brevis, written in Latin, and published both by Camden and Archbishop Parker. But the tract I am quoting is in English, and entitled, Of Wonderful and Surprising Eventys, and, as far as I can find, has never yet been printed. The eighth chapter of his fifth book begins thus:—
“‘Ryghte well worthie of Note is thilke famous Tale of the All-Soulen Mallarde, the whiche, because it bin acted in our Daies, and of a suretye vouched into me, I will in fewe Wordys relate.
“‘Whereas Henrye Chicele, the late renowned Arch-Bishope of Cantorburye, had minded to founden a Collidge in Oxenforde for the hele of his Soule and the Soules of all those who peryshed in the Warres in Fraunce, fighteing valiantlye under our most gracious Henrye the fifthe, moche was he distraughten concerning the Place he myghte choose for thilke Purpose. Him thynketh some whylest how he myghte place it withouten the eastern Parte of the Citie, both for the Pleasauntnesse of the Meadowes and the clere Streamys therebye runninge. Agen him thynketh odir whylest howe he mote builden it on the Northe Side for the heleful Ayre there coming from the fieldis. Now while he doubteth thereon he dreamt, and behold there appearyth unto him one of righte godelye Personage, saying and adviseing him as howe he myghte placen his Collidge in the Highe Strete of the Citie, nere unto the Chirche of our blessed Ladie the Virgine, and in Witnesse that it was sowthe and no vain and deceitful Phantasie, wolled him to laye the first Stone of the foundation at the corner which turnyth towards the Cattys-strete, where in delvinge he myghte of a Suretye finde a schwoppinge Mallarde imprison’d in the Sinke or Sewere, wele yfattened and almost ybosten. Sure Token of the Thrivaunce of his future Collidge.
“‘Moche doubteth he when he awoke on the nature of this Vision, whether he mote give hede thereto or not. Then advisyth he thereon with monie Docters and learned Clerkys, all sayd howe he oughte to maken Trial upon it. Then comyth he to Oxenforde, and on a Daye fix’d, after Masse seyde, proceedeth he in solemn wyse, with Spades and Pickaxes for the nonce provided, to the Place afore spoken of. But long they had not digged ere they herde, as it myghte seme, within the wam of the Erthe, horrid Strugglinges and Flutteringes, and anon violent Quaakinges of the distressyd Mallarde. Then Chicele lyfteth up his hondes and seyth Benedicite, &c. &c. Nowe when they broughte him forthe behold the Size of his Bodie was as that of a Bustarde or an Ostriche, and moche wonder was thereat, for the lyke had not been been scene in this Londe, ne in anie odir.’
“Here,” says the Doctor, “we have the matter of fact proved from an authentic record, wherein there is not one word said of the longevity of the mallard, upon a supposition of which Mr. Pointer has founded his whole libel. The mallard, ’tis true, has grown to a great size. But what then? Will not the richness and plenty of the diet he wallowed in very well account for this, without supposing any great number of years of imprisonment? The words of the historian, I am sure, rather discourage any such supposition. Sure token, says he, of the thrivance of his future college! which seems to me to intimate the great progress the mallard had made in fattening, in a short space of time. But be this as it will, there is not the least hint of a goose in the case. No: the impartial Walsingham had far higher notions of the mallard, and could form no comparison of him, without borrowing his idea from some of the most noble birds, the bustard and the ostridge.” Turning to our author’s comment on the last passage of Mr. Pointer, he adds, “However, this is certain, this mallard is the accidental occasion of a great gaudy once a year, and great mirth; for on this occasion is always sung a merry old song.”—“Rem tam seriam—tam negligenter,” exclaims the Doctor; “Would any one but this author have represented so august a ceremony as the Celebration of the Mallard by those vulgar circumstances of eating and drinking, and singing a merry old song? Doth he not know that the greatest states, even those of Rome and Carthage, had their infant foundations distinguished by incidents very much resembling those of the mallard, and that the commemoration of them was celebrated with hymns and processions, and made a part of their religious observances? Let me refresh his memory with a circumstance or two relating to the head of Tolus (will serve to elucidate the fourth line of the second verse of the merry old song) which was discovered at the foundation of the Capitol. The Romans held the remembrance of it in the greatest veneration, as will appear from the following quotation from Arnobius, in a fragment preserved by Lipsius:—‘Quo die (says he, speaking of the annual celebrity) congregati sacerdotes, et eorum ministri, totum Capitolinum collem circumibant, cantilenam quandam sacram de Toli cujusdam capite, dum molirentur fundamenta invento, recitantes deinde ad cœnam verè pontificiam se recipientes,’ &c. Part of this merry old song (as Mr. P. would call it) is preserved by Vossius, in his book De Sacris Cantilenis Veterum Romanorum. The chorus of it shows so much the simplicity of the ancient Roman poetry that I cannot forbear transcribing it for the benefit of my reader, as the book is too scarce to be in every one’s hand. It runs thus:
Toli caput venerandum!
Magnum caput et mirandum!
Toli caput resonamus.
I make no doubt but that every true critic will be highly pleased with it. For my own part, it gives me a particular pleasure to reflect on the resemblance there is between this precious relique of antiquity, and the chorus of the Mallard.
Oh, by the blood of King Edward,
It was a swapping, swapping Mallard!
The greatness of the subject, you see, is the Thing celebrated in both, and the manner of doing it is as nearly equal as the different geniuses of the two languages will permit. Let me hope, therefore, that Mr. P. when he exercises his thoughts again on this subject, will learn to think more highly of the mallard, than of a common gaudy, or merry making. For it will not be just to suppose that the gentlemen of All-Souls can have less regard for the memory of so noble a bird, found all alive, than the Romans had for the dead skull of the Lord knows whom.”