Highgate.] "SWEARING ON THE HORNS." 413 CHAPTER XXXII. HIGHGATE (continued). Many to the steep of Highgate hie; In whose dread name both men and maids are sworn, And consecrate the oath with draught and dance till morn." -Byron. Charles Knight-Sir John Wollaston-The Custom of "Swearing on the Horns"-Mr. Mark Boyd's Reminiscence of this Curious Ceremonial -A Poetical Version of the Proceedings-Old Taverns at Highgate-The "Angel Inn"-The Sunday Ordinary-A Touching Story-The Chapel and School of Highgate-Tomb of Coleridge, the Poet-Sir Roger Cholmeley, the Founder of the Grammar School-Southwood Lane-The Almshouses-Park House-St. Michael's Church-Tablet erected to Coleridge-Fitzroy House-Mrs. Caroline Chisholm-Dr. Sacheverel-Dorchester House-Coleridge's Residence-The Grove-Anecdote of Hogarth-Sir John Hawkins' House-A Proclamation in the Time of Henry VIII.-North Hill-The "Bull Inn." RETURNING once more to the main street of the village "this romantic rather than picturesque village," as Crabb Robinson calls it in his "Diary" -we resume our perambulation, starting from Arundel House, of which we have given an account in an earlier chapter.* A small house close by the site of Arundel House was for many years the residence of Mr. Charles Knight, whose name is well known in connection with popular literature. A little to the north of this house, but standing back from the high road, was the mansion of Sir John Wollaston, the founder of some almshouses in Southwood Lane, which we shall presently notice. Sir John Wollaston, we may here remark, was at one time Lord Mayor of London, and held several appointments of trust in the City. He died in the year 1658, and was buried in the old chapel of Highgate. Samuel Palmer, "ever hears of this hamlet without at once referring to it : 'It's a custom at Highgate, that all who go through, Must be sworn on the horns, sir; and so, sir, must you. Bring the horns, shut the door; now, sir, take off your hat, When you come here again, don't forget to mind that.' A few years ago it was usual all over the kingdom to ask, 'Have you been sworn at Highgate?' And if any person in conversation laid an emphasis more than usual on the demonstrative pronoun that, it was sure to elicit the inquiry. Some sixty years ago upwards of eighty stage-coaches would stop every day at the Red Lion' inn, and out of every five passengers three were sworn. So soon as the coach drew up at the inn-door most pressing invitations would be given to the company to alight, and after as many as possible could be collected in the parlour, the landlord would introduce the Highgate oath. A little artifice easily led to the detection of the uninitiated, and as soon as the fact was ascertained the horns were brought in. There were generally sufficient of the initiated to induce compliance with those who had not yet passed through the ordeal. The horns were fixed on a pole five feet in height, and placed upright on the ground before the person who was to be sworn. The neophyte was then required to take off his hat, which all present having also done, the landlord, in a bold voice, began the ceremony. It commenced by the landlord saying The main street of the village, although so near to London, has about it that appearance of quietude and sleepiness which one is accustomed to meet with in villages miles away from the busy metropolis; and like most other villages, the number of its public-houses, as compared with other places of business, is somewhat remarkable. In 1826 there were, in Highgate, no less than nineteen licensed taverns, of which Hone, in his "Every-day Book," gives the signs. In former times a curious old custom prevailed at these public-houses, which has been the means of giving a little gentle merriment to many generations of the citizens of London, but is now only remembered as a thing of the past. It was a sort of burlesque performance, presided over by mine host," in which the visitor, whoever he might be, was expected to take an oath, which was duly if you are travelling through this village of Highgate, and 66 administered to him, and was familiarly called "swearing on the horns." "No one," writes Mr. *See ante, p. 50г. 'Upstanding and uncovered: silence. Take notice what I now say to you, for that is the first word of the oath; mind that! You must acknowledge me to be your adopted father, I must acknowledge you to be my adopted son. If you do not call me father, you forfeit a bottle of wine; if I do not call you son, I forfeit the same. And now, my good son, you have no money in your pocket, go call for a bottle of wine at any house you may think proper to enter, and book it to your father's score. If you have any friends with you, you may treat them as well; but if you have money of your own, you must pay for it yourself; for you must not say you have no money when you have; neither must you convey 'I have now to acquaint you with your privileges your money out of your own pocket into that of your friend's as a freeman of Highgate. If at any time you are pocket, for I shall search them as well as you, and if I find that you or they have any money, you forfeit a bottle of going through the hamlet, and want to rest yourwine for trying to cheat and cozen your old father. You self, and you see a pig lying in a ditch, you are must not eat brown bread while you can get white, unless quite at liberty to kick her out and take her place; you like brown the best; nor must you drink small beer but if you see three lying together, you must only when you can get strong, unless you like small the best; kick out the middle one, and lie between the two; you must not kiss the maid while you can kiss the mistress, unless you like the maid best; but sooner than lose a good so God save the king!'" These last liberties, chance, you may kiss them both. And now, my good son, however, are, according to Mr. Larwood, a later I wish you a safe journey through Highgate and this life. I charge you, my good son, that if you know any in this company who have not taken this oath, you must cause them to take it, or make each of them forfeit a bottle of wine; for if you fail to do so, you will forfeit one yourself. So now, my son, God bless you; kiss the horns, or a pretty girl if you see one here, which you like best, and so be free of Highgate.' If a female were in the room, she was, of course, saluted; if not, the horns were to be kissed, but the option was not allowed formerly. The peculiarity of the oath was in the pronoun that, which generally resulted in victimising the strangers of some bottles of wine. So soon as the salutation was over, and the wine drank, the landlord, addressing himself to the newly-made son, said, addition to the oath, introduced by a facetious blacksmith, who at one time kept the "Coach and Horses." Mr. Mark Boyd describes at length, in his "Social Gleanings," the whole of the process to which it appears that he and his brother were subjected one fine Sunday half a century ago, and to which they submitted with all the less reluctance because they learnt that Lord Bryon and several other distinguished personages had been sworn there before them. He relates the initiatory steps of ordering a bottle of the Boniface's best port, and another of sherry, "which the landlord took care should be excellent in honour of so grave a ceremonial, and for which he did not omit to charge accordingly." He goes on to describe how "the landlord and his waiter then retired to prepare for the imposing ceremony, and in ten minutes a thundering knock at the door announced the approach of the officials. In marched, with all solemnity, the swearer-in, dressed in a black gown with bands, and wearing a mask and a wig; his clerk also in a black gown, carrying the horns fixed on a pole in one hand, and in the other a large book, from which the oath was to be read. The landlord then proclaimed, in a loud voice, Upstanding and uncovered. Take notice what now I say to you, &c.," and so proceeded to administer the oath verbatim, as above. "The custom," adds Mr. Boyd, "has now fallen into disuse; but at the 'Gate House Tavern,' some months ago (1875), whilst the waiter was administering to me an excellent luncheon, I mentioned that, were the landlord to revive the custom, many of the present generation would extremely enjoy the fun in which their ancestors had indulged, and none more than our 'American cousins.' 'Moreover,' said I to the waiter, 'where you now make five shillings you would pocket ten; and if your landlord provided as good port and sherry as formerly, he would sell two bottles for one."" In spite, however, of Mr. Boyd's specious argument, and even the example of Lord Byron, we believe that the landlord has not at present ventured on reviving this absurdity, even in this age of "revivals" of various kinds. In fact, if the truth must be told, he takes no interest in the historic past, and does not care to be questioned about the ceremony. The following is one version, among several, of an old initiation song which was used on these occasions in one of the Highgate inns, which either "kept a poet," or had a host who was fond of rhyming. We take it from Robert Bell's "Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England;" the author states that it was supplied to him by a very old man, who had been an ostler at Highgate. "The old man," adds Mr. Bell, "told him that it was not often used of late years, as 'there was no landlord that could sing, and gentlemen preferred the speech.' He also owned that the lines were not always alike, some saying them one way and some another, some making them long, while others cut them short: Enter Landlord, dressed in a black gown and bands, and wearing an antique-fashioned wig; followed by the Clerk of the Court, also in appropriate costume, and carrying the register book and the horns. Landlord. Do you wish to be sworn at Highgate ? The Landlord then says or sings as follows : Full to your old father turn, sir; [Here the Candidate places his right hand on the horn. You shall not spend with cheaters or cozens your life, And when you are wedded, be kind to your wife, [The Candidate says "I will," and kisses the And while you thus solemnly swear to be kind, [Clerk: "Kiss the horns again, sir." [Clerk: "Kiss the horns again, sir." [Clerk: "Kiss the horns again, sir." book; and if you can't write, then make your mark, and the Clerk of the Court will attest it. [Here one of the above requests is complied with. Landlord. You will now please to pay half-a-crown for court fees, and what you please to the Clerk. 66 The necessary ceremony being thus gone through, the business terminates by the Landlord saying "God bless the King (or Queen) and the Lord of the Manor," to which the Clerk responds, Amen, amen!" N.B. The court fees are always returned in wine, spirits, or porter, of which the Landlord and the Clerk are invited to partake. It will now be seen what is the meaning of the old proverb as applied to a knowing fellow :-"He has been sworn at Highgate." The words are applicable to a person who is well acquainted with good things, and who takes care to help himself to the best of all. Grose speaks of this whimsical ceremony at some length in his "Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue," published in 1785, and it is clear from what he says that even in his day the ceremony was very ancient. Hone's "Year Book" contains also a full account of the ceremony, as it was performed in the early part of the present century at the "Fox," or (as it was then styled) "The Fox under the Hill," an inn already mentioned by us. Hone does not throw much light on the origin of the practice, which, doubtless, is as old as the Reformation, and was originally intended as a parody on the admission of neophytes into religious guilds and confraternities by the clergy of the Catholic Church. Grose, being a shallow antiquary, apparently regarded it as a piece of comparatively modern tomfoolery, got up by some landlord "for the good of the house." A correspondent, however, subsequently points out the antiquity of the custom, and sends a copy of the initiation song, which varies, however, considerably from our version above. It may be added that Grose was in error on another score, as Mr. Robert Bell observes, when he supposed that the ceremony was confined to the lower orders; for both when he wrote, and in subsequent times, the oath, absurd as it is, has often been taken by persons of rank and education too. An inspection of the register-books, had any still existed, would doubtless have shown that those who have kissed the mystic horn at Highgate have belonged to all ranks of society, and that among them the scholars of Harrow have always been conspicuous-led on, no doubt, like so many sheep, by the example of their bellwether, Lord Byron. When, however, the stage-coaches ceased to pass through Highgate, the custom gradually declined, and appears to have been kept up at only three inns, respectively called "The Original House," the "Old Original House," and the "Real Old Original House." Mr. Bell, writing about the year 1860, says: "Two of the above houses have latterly ceased to hold courts, and the custom is now confined to the Fox under the Hill,' where the rite is celebrated with every attention to ancient forms, ceremonies, and costume, and for a fee which, in deference to modern notions of economy, is only one shilling." 417 comicality, according to the wit of the imposer of the oath, and the simplicity of the oath-taker; and, as might be expected, the ceremony was not a dry one. Scarcely ever did a stage-coach stop at a Highgate tavern in those days, without a few of the passengers being initiated amidst the laughter of the rest, the landlord usually acting as high priest on the occasion, while a waiter or an ostler would perform the duty of clerk, and sing out "Amen" at all the proper places. Although some ten or dozen pairs of horns are religiously kept in as many of the chief inns in Highgate, where they pass along with the house in the inventory from one landlord to his successor; yet, singularly enough, none of the register books in which the neophytes were wont to inscribe their names after taking the oath, are now known to exist. Their loss is much to be regretted, as in all probability, as we have above intimated, an inspection of them would have shown that many persons otherwise celebrated for wisdom made fools of themselves at least once in their lives. It appears, however, from an article in the Penny Magazine, published in 1832, that even then the ceremony had been abandoned by all respectable members of society. The origin of this singular custom is variously accounted for. One is that it was devised by a landlord who had lost his licence, and who used it to cover the sale of his liquors. Another, and more probable one, is, that "Highgate being the nearest spot to London where cattle rested on their way from the North to Smithfield for sale, many graziers put up at the 'Gate House' for the night. These men formed a kind of fraternity, and generally endeavoured to secure the inn for their exclusive accommodation on certain days. Finding, however, they had no power to exclude strangers, who, like themselves, were travelling on business, these men formed themselves into a sort of club, and made it imperative on all who wished to join them to take a certain oath, and bringing an ox to the door, compelled them either to kiss its horns, or to quit their company." The house of greatest dignity and largest accommodation was the "Gate House," so called from the original building having been connected with a gate which here crossed the road, and from which, as we have already stated, the name of the village is understood to have been derived. The old crier of Highgate is said still to keep a gown and wig ready to swear in any persons who may wish to go through the ceremony; for the swearer-in, whoever he might or may be, generally wore a black gown, mask, and wig, and had with him a person to act as clerk and bearer of the horns. Of course there was room for a luxuriance of to be seen a gigantic pair of mounted horns, the The old "Gate House Inn" still stands, though the droll ceremony which we have described has fallen into disuse for more than a quarter of a century. In the hall of the inn, however, are still |