Brief Lives, Vol. 2

Ralph Kettell (1563-1643).

[56]Ralph Kettle, D.D., praeses Coll. Trin. Oxon., was borne at <King's Langley> in Hertfordshire.

The lady Elizabeth Pope brought him in to be a scholar of the house at eleaven yeares of age[G] (as I have heard Dr. Ralph Bathurst say).

I have heard Dr. Whistler[57] say that he wrote good Latin, and Dr. Ralph Bathurst (whose grandmother, ... Villers, he maried), that he scolded the best in Latin of any one that ever he knew. He was of an admirable healthy constitution.

He dyed a yeare + after I came to the Colledge, and he was then a good deale above 80 (quaere aetatem), and he had then a fresh ruddy complexion. He was a very tall well growne man. His gowne and surplice and hood being on, he had a terrible gigantique aspect, with his sharp gray eies. The ordinary gowne he wore was a russet cloath gowne.

He was, they say, white[58] very soon; he had a very venerable presence, and was an excellent governour. One of his maximes of governing was to keepe-downe the juvenilis impetus[VI.]. He was chosen President anno Domini <1598/9> the second after the foundation of the College.

He was a right Church of England man, and every Tuesday, in terme time, in the morning, the undergraduates (I have forgott if baccalaurs) were to come into the chapell and heare him expound on the 36 Articles[59] of the Church of England. I remember he was wont to talke much of the rood-loft, and of the wafers: he remembred those times. On these dayes, if any one had committed a fault, he should be sure to heare of it in the chapell before his fellow collegiates.

<On[60] these days, he would be sure to> have at him that had a white cap on; for he concluded him to have been drunke, and his head to ake. Sir[61] John Denham had borrowed money of Mr. Whistler, the recorder[62], and, after a great while, the recorder askt him for it again. Mr. Denham laught at it, and told him he never intended that. The recorder acquainted the President, who, at a lecture in the chapell, rattled him, and told him, 'Thy father,' (judge[63]) 'haz hanged many an honester man.' In my time, Mr. Anthony Ettrick and some others frighted a poor young freshman of Magd. Hall with conjuring, which when the old Dr. heard of: on the next Tuesday, sayd he, 'Mr. Ettrick'—who is a very little man—'will conjure up a jackanapes to be his great-grand-father.'

He sawe how the factious in religion in those dayes drew, and he kept himselfe unconcerned. W. Laud, archbishop of Canterbury, sent him one time a servant of his with venison, which the old Dr. with much earnestnes refused, and sayd that he was an old man, and his stomach weake, and he had not eaten of such meate in a long time, and by no meanes would accept of it; but the servant was as much pressing it on him on the other side, and told the President that he durst not carry it back[64] againe. Well, seing there was no avoyding it, the President asked the servant seriously, if the archbishop of Canterbury intended to putt in any scholars or fellowes[65] into his College?

Mr. ... ... one of the fellowes (in Mr. Francis Potter's time) was wont to say, that Dr. Kettel's braine was like a hasty-pudding, where there was memorie, judgement, and phancy all stirred together. He had all these faculties in great measure, but they were all just so jumbled together. If you had to doe with him, taking him for a foole, you would have found in him great subtilty and reach: è contra, if you treated with him as a wise man, you would have mistaken him for a foole. A neighbour of mine (Mr. La<urence> St. Low[H]) told me he heard him preach once in St. Marie's Church, at Oxon. He began thus: 'being my turne to preach in this place, I went into my study to prepare my selfe for my sermon, and I tooke downe a booke that had blew strings, and look't in it,[66]and 'twas sweet Saint Bernard. I chanced to read such a part of it, on such a subject, which haz made me to choose this text——.' I know not whether this was the only time or no that he used this following way of conclusion:—'But now I see it is time for me to shutt up my booke, for I see the doctors' men come-in wiping of their beardes from the ale-house.'—(He could from the pulpit plainly see them, and 'twas their custome in sermon to go there, and about the end of sermon to returne to wayte on their masters).

He had two wives, if not three, but no child (quaere). His second wife was a Villiers, or rather (I thinke) the widowe of ... Villers, esq., who had two beautifull daughters, co-heires. The eldest, whom severall of good estate[67] would gladly have wedded, he would needs dispose of himselfe, and he thought nobody so fitt a husband for this angelique creature as one Mr. Bathurst, of the College, a second brother, and of about 300 li. per annum, but an indifferent scholar, red fac'd, not at all handsome.

But the Doctor's fashion was to goe up and down the college, and peepe in at the key-holes to see whether the boyes did follow their books or no. He seldome found Bathurst minding of his booke, but mending of his old doublet or breeches. He was very thrifty and penurious, and upon this reason he caried away this curious creature. But she was very happy in her issue; all her children were ingeniose and prosperous[68] in the world, and most of them beautifull.

About ... (neer 70 yeares since, I suppose,) one Mr. Isham (elder brother to Sir Justinian Isham), a gentleman-commoner of this howse, dyed of the small pox. He was a very fine gentleman, and very well beloved by all the colledge, and severall of the fellowes would have preacht his funerall sermon, but Dr. Kettle would not permitt it, but would doe it himselfe; which the fellowes were sorry for, for they knew he would make a ridiculous piece of worke of it. But preach the Dr. did: takes a text and preaches on it a little while; and then takes another text, for the satisfaction of the young gentleman's mother; and anon he takes another text, for the satisfaction of the young gentleman's grandmother. When he came to the panegyrique, sayd he, 'He was the finest, swet[69] young gentleman; it did doe my heart good to see him walke along the quadrangle. Wee have an old proverbe that Hungry dogges will eate dirty puddings; but I must needes say for this young gentleman, that he always loved[VII.] sweet'—he spake it with a squeaking voice—'things,'—and there was an end.

He observed that the howses that had the smallest beer had most drunkards, for it forced them to goe into the town to comfort their stomachs; wherfore Dr. Kettle alwayes had in his College excellent beer, not better to be had in Oxon; so that we could not goe to any other place but for the worse, and we had the fewest drunkards of any howse in Oxford.

He was constantly at lectures and exercises in the hall to observe them, and brought along with him his hower-glasse; and one time, being offended at the boyes, he threatned them, that if they would not doe their exercise better he 'would bring an hower-glass two howers long.'

He was irreconcileable to long haire; called them hairy scalpes, and as for periwigges (which were then very rarely worne) he beleeved[71] them to be the scalpes of men cutt off after they were hang'd, and so tanned and dressed for use. When he observed the scolars' haire longer then ordinary (especially if they were scholars of the howse), he would bring a paire of cizers in his muffe (which he commonly wore), and woe be to them that sate on the outside of the table[I]. I remember he cutt Mr. Radford's[72] haire with the knife that chipps the bread on the buttery-hatch, and then he sang (this is in the old play—Henry VIII<'s time>—of Grammar[73] Gurton's needle)

'Mr.[J] Lydall,' sayd he, 'how doe you decline tondeo? Tondeo, tondes, tonedi?'

One time walking by the table where the Logick lecture was read, where the reader was telling the boyes that a syllogisme might be true quoad formam, but not quoad materiam; said the President (who would putt-in sometimes), 'There was a fox had spyed a crowe upon a tree, and he had a great mind to have him[74], and so getts under the tree in a hope, and layes out his tayle crooked like a horne, thinking the crowe might come and peck at it, and then he would seise him. Now come we' (this[75] was his word), 'I say the foxe's tayle is a horne: is this a true proposition or no?' (to one of the boyes). 'Yes,' sayd he (the Dr. expected he should have sayd No; for it putt him out of his designe); 'Why then,' said he, 'take him and toot him'; and away he went.

He dragg'd with one (i.e. right[76]) foot a little, by which he gave warning (like the rattlesnake) of his comeing. Will. Egerton (Major-Generall Egerton's younger brother), a good witt and mimick, would goe so like him, that sometime he would make the whole chapell rise up, imagining he had been entring in.

As they were reading of inscribing and circumscribing figures, sayd he,'I will shew you how to inscribe a triangle in a quadrangle. Bring a pig into the quadrangle, and I will sett the colledge dog at him, and he will take the pig by the eare; then come I and take the dog by the tayle, and the hog by the tayle, and so there you have a triangle in a quadrangle; quod erat faciendum.'

He preach't every Sunday at his parsonage at Garsington (about 5 miles off). He rode on his bay gelding, with his boy Ralph before him, with a leg of mutton (commonly) and some colledge bread. He did not care for the countrey revells, because they tended to debauchery. Sayd he, at Garsington revell, 'Here is Hey for Garsington! and Hey for Cuddesdon! and Hey Hockly! but here's nobody cries, Hey for God Almighty!'

Upon Trinity Sunday (our festival day) he would commonly preach at the Colledge, whither a number of the scholars of other howses would come, to laugh at him. In his prayer (where he was of course to remember Sir Thomas Pope, our founder, and the lady Elizabeth his wife, deceasd), he would many times make a willfull mistake, and say, 'Sir Thomas Pope our Confounder[77],' but then presently recall himselfe.

He was a person of great charity. In his college, where he observed diligent boyes that he ghessed had but a slender exhibition from their friends, he would many times putt money in at their windowes; that his right hand did not know what his left did.[78]Servitors that wrote good hands he would sett on worke to transcribe for him and reward them generosely, and give them good advise. Mris. Howe, of Grendon, sent him a present of hippocris, and some fine cheese-cakes, by a plain countrey fellow, her servant. The Dr. tastes the wine:—'What,' sayd he, 'didst thou take this drinke[79] out of a ditch?' and when he saw the cheese-cakes:—'What have we here, crinkum, crankum?' The poor fellow stared on him, and wondered at such a rough reception of such a handsome present; but he shortly made him amends with a good dinner and halfe-a-crowne. The parsonage of Garsington (which belongs to the college) is worth ... per annum, and this good old Doctor, when one of his parish[80], that was an honest industrious man, happened by any accident to be in decay and lowe in the world, would let his parsonage to him for a yeare, two, or three, fourty pounds a yeare under value.

In his younger yeares he had been chaplain to <Thomas> Bilson, bishop of Winton.

In August, 1642, the lord viscount Say and Seale came (by order of the Parliament) to visit the colleges, to see what of new Popery they could discover in the chapells. In our chapell, on the backside of the skreen, had been two altars (of painting well enough for those times, and the colours were admirably fresh and lively). That on the right hand as you enter the chapell was dedicated to St. Katharine, that on the left was of the taking our Saviour off from the crosse. My lord Say sawe that this was donne of old time, and Dr. Kettle told his lordship 'Truly, my Lord, we regard them no more then a dirty dish-clout'; so they remained untoucht, till Harris's time[81], and then were coloured over with green. The windowes of the chapell were good Gothique painting, in every columne a figure;—e.g. St. Cuthbert, St. Leonard, St. Oswald. I have forgott the rest. 'Tis pitty they should be lost. I have a note of all the scutcheons in glasse about the house. 'Twas pitty Dr. Bathurst tooke the old painted glasse out of the library. Anciently, in the chapell, was a little organ over the dore of the skreen. The pipes were, in my time, in the bursery.

[82]Memorandum:—till Oxford was surrendred we sang the reading psalmes on Sundayes, holy-dayes, and holy-day eves; and one of the scholars of the house sang the ghospell for the day in the hall, at the latter end of dinner, and concluded, Sic desinit Evangelium secundum beatum Johannem (or etc.): tu autem, Domine, miserere nostri.

He <Kettle> sang a shrill high treble; but there was one (J. Hoskyns[K]) who had a higher, and would play the wag with the Dr. to make him straine his voice up to his.

[83]Memorandum:—there was in my time a rich pall[84] to lay on a coffin, of crimson velvet, with a large plaine crosse on it of white silke or sattin.

[85]'Tis probable this venerable Dr. might have lived some yeares longer, and finisht his century, had not those civill warres come on: which much grieved him, that was wont to be absolute in the colledge, to be affronted and disrespected by rude soldiers. I remember, being at the Rhetorique lecture in the hall, a foot-soldier came in and[86] brake his hower-glasse. The Dr. indeed was just stept out, but Jack Dowch[L] pointed at it. Our grove was the Daphne for the ladies and their gallants to walke in, and many times my lady Isabella Thynne[VIII.] would make her entrey with a theorbo or lute played before her. I have heard her play on it in the grove myselfe, which she did rarely; for which Mr. Edmund Waller hath in his Poems for ever made her famous. One may say of her as Tacitus sayd of Agrippina, Cuncta alia illi adfuere, praeter animum honestum. She was most beautifull, most humble, charitable, etc. but she could not subdue one thing. I remember one time this lady and fine Mris. Fenshawe[IX.] (her great and intimate friend, who lay at our college), would have a frolick to make a visitt to the President. The old Dr. quickly perceived that they came to abuse him; he addresses his discourse to Mris. Fenshawe, saying, 'Madam, your husband[M] and father I bred up here, and I knew your grandfather; I know you to be a gentlewoman, I will not say you are a whore; but gett you gonne for a very woman.' The dissolutenesse of the times, as I have sayd, grieving the good old Doctor, his dayes were shortned, and dyed <July> anno Domini 1643, and was buried at Garsington: quaere his epitaph.

Seneca's scholar Nero found fault with his style, saying 'twas arena sine calce: now Dr. Kettle was wont to say that 'Seneca writes, as a boare does pisse,' scilicet, by jirkes.

I cannot forget a story that Robert Skinner, lord bishop of Oxford, haz told us:—one Slymaker[N], a fellow of this College long since, a fellow of great impudence, and little learning—the fashion was in those dayes to goe, every Satterday night (I thinke), to Joseph Barnes' shop, the bookeseller (opposite to the west end of St. Mary's), where the newes was brought from London, etc.—this impudent clowne would alwayes be hearkning to people's whisperings and overlooking their letters, that he was much taken notice of. Sir Isaac Wake, who was a very witty man, was resolved he would putt a trick upon him, and understood that such a Sunday Slymaker was to preach at St. Mary's. So Sir Isaac, the Saterday before, reades a very formall lettre to some person of quality, that cardinal Baronius was turned Protestant, and was marching with an army of 40,000 men against the Pope. Slymaker hearkned with greedy eares, and the next day in his prayer before his sermon[O], beseeched God[87]'of his infinite mercy and goodnesse to give a blessing to the army of cardinall Baronius, who was turnd Protestant, and now marching with an army of forty thousand men,' and so runnes on: he had a Stentorian voice, and thunderd it out. The auditors all stared and were amazed: ... Abbot (afterwards bishop of Sarum[88]) was then Vice-cancellor, and when Slymaker came out of the pulpit, sends for him, and asked his name: 'Slymaker,' sayd he; 'No,' sayd the Vice-canc., ''tis Lyemaker.'

Dr. Kettle, when he scolded at the idle young boies of his colledge, he used these names, viz. Turds, Tarrarags (these were the worst sort, rude rakells), Rascal-Jacks, Blindcinques, Scobberlotchers (these did no hurt, were sober, but went idleing about the grove with their hands in their pocketts, and telling the number of the trees there, or so).

[89]To make you merry I'le tell you a story that Dr. Henry Birket[90] told us tother day at his cosen <Thomas> Mariet's, scilicet that about 1638 or 1640 when he was of Trinity College, Dr. Kettle, preaching as he was wont to doe on Trinity Sunday, told 'em that they should keepe their bodies chast and holy: 'but,' said he, 'you fellows of the College here eate good commons and drinke good double-beer ... and that will gett-out.' How would the good old Dr. have raunted and beat-up his kettle-drum, if he should have seen such luxury in the College as there is now! Tempora mutantur.